Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting
Part III : Conflict
Chapter Twenty Six : Running on Empty
20 June 2003
Severus woke alone, late, the depression in the bed next to him cold. He rolled onto his back, staring at the canopy above, disappointed but not surprised. 'All we get now are dribs and drabs. I should have said something.'
He rolled out of bed, sitting on the side, the ever-present headache waiting sullenly behind his eyes. Reaching into the drawer of his night table, he pulled out a potion and downed a small dose. He found himself grateful it was not one of the more habit-forming analgesics and wondered if its efficacy was reduced by the number of times he'd been forced to use it in the last few months. 'I don't remember seeing anything about it, but my concentration lately has not been what it used to be, either.'
The pain down to a dull ache, he went about his morning ablutions deciding, as he fastened his robes, to try and eat something before he went to work on the castle. The clock said he had about thirty minutes before he was due to report to the north side of the castle with Flitwick and the Mason, Evans, to work on the addition to the Ravenclaw House, which had grown exponentially over the last three years. The work was mundane and tiring; he and Flitwick built and levitated huge stone blocks while Evans fixed them in place, warding them as he went. Two to three hours of uninterrupted work was about all any of them had the energy to accomplish; the magic needed was constant and wearing.
He was the last to arrive in the Great Hall for breakfast and the only one at the staff table except Trelawney; they studiously ignored each other. Neither Albus nor Harry were in evidence and he thought back to Harry's words last night about working with Dumbledore until well after he'd left on his walk. As he poured syrup over his waffles, he couldn't shake the feeling Harry had been telling the truth, but since he could not bring himself to ask Dumbledore, the feeling did not help him any. Regardless of where he'd been, he'd not been with him.
He forced himself to eat some of the breakfast, the waffles tasting like yesterday's potions' ingredients. His appetite was as low as his confidence. After a few bites, he gave it up as a lost cause. He rose from the table and went to his morning's work. It was going to be a long summer.
Severus was standing in front of the empty wardrobe, his heart in his toes. He quickly strode to the dresser Harry always used and opened every drawer futilely hoping to find one thing, anything left behind that would give him hope Harry was ever coming back. And he found nothing to ease his loss. He walked into the sitting room and saw the tiny gaps between the little trinkets on the shelves, the tables, the walls--the ordinary things that had been Harry's to adorn their home. He went to Harry's study. Everything was missing, except the desk. All the books, the knick-knacks, the pictures, even the chair--all of it gone. The room rang hollow.
Then he saw it. In the middle of the desk top sat an envelope.
With trembling hands, Severus picked up the fine creamy stock and held it against his chest a moment, his heart pounding, before he broke the seal and pulled the single sheet of foolscap out of the envelope. He hesitated, knowing that if he read it, it would be real, it would be final--he would know, one way or another, whether Harry was ever coming back.
He sighed with a heavy heart. Knowing he could not delay any longer, he lowered his eyes to the parchment and read:
Dear Severus:
I am so sorry, but I cannot stay any more and hurt you this way. I have found another--
"Severus! Damn it, Severus! Pay attention! I can't hold it alone. SEVERUS!"
Flitwick's desperate yelling finally broke through Snape's fanciful daydreaming. Aghast, he saw the wall shimmering in front of him. A block of stone twice the size of the diminutive professor was hovering a few scant inches over his head ready to fall any second. 'Dear gods,' he thought, raising his wand from where it had fallen useless by his side. He resumed the spell and the stone sailed effortlessly to the proper place.
Mike Evans, his eyes huge at the near miss, quickly set the stone into the others they'd done so far. With a click, it bonded and he let out a sigh of relief. "You're nutters," he mumbled, sitting down on another block ready to set.
"Filius, I--" he started to say but Flitwick interrupted him, eyeing the Mason. "Not now, Severus."
Flitwick continued, "I think we've done enough for the day, Evans. Same time on Monday?" At Mike's nod, Flitwick took Snape by the arm almost dragging him away. If it weren't so serious, it would have been comical to see the tiny, portly Charms Professor, who barely came to Snape's thighs, pulling the taller, almost gaunt, Potions Master in his wake.
When they'd reached the edge of the lake, Flitwick abruptly sat down on the grass, pulling Snape down with him. He flopped next to him gracelessly with a whoosh of exhaled air on impact.
Looking out at the lake, Severus could see that Flitwick was struggling with his thoughts. He was such an open book and it was obvious his temper won temporarily over his normal good nature when he nodded to himself in decision and finally said, "I have known you since you were a student, Severus. Over 30 years, to be more precise, and in all that time I have NEVER seen you like this."
Waving his hands at the clothes hanging loose on Severus' lean frame, he took a deep breath and went on before Snape could interrupt him, "You're not eating, your eyes are black holes in your head, you're obviously having headaches, and your concentration, recently, is worse than a Third Year's on a Hogsmeade weekend." He harumphed in exasperation at Snape's quiet attention and then chuckled. "Normally, I believe in letting others deal with their own problems and although we may get along with few confrontations, Merlin knows, no one would ever mistake us for best friends." His small smile of inner amusement took the sting out of his words.
His face was kind as he turned to look Snape in the eye, but no less intense than before when he continued, "But this morning changed things, Severus. Talk to me." When he got no response, he sighed. "Now, Severus. If you're going to get me killed, I have at least earned the right to know why."
Severus nodded; it was probably the longest speech he'd ever heard from Flitwick, but he was right. "I'm sorry, Filius. I can't even promise it won't happen again, although I will try."
"Don't tell me you're sorry--I could see that!" Flitwick's irritation broke through again. "And don't tell me 'you'll try' to concentrate. You couldn't do it if my life depended on it. All I want, right now, is an explanation." Severus turned his head away from the sudden compassion in his colleague's face. He could feel Flitwick's steady regard and shifted uncomfortably when he heard Flitwick say quietly, "Why? What is so wrong? Why are you sleeping badly? Why are you destroying yourself? And none of your artful prevarication, either. I saw bits and pieces of my life a few minutes ago. I deserve the full truth."
"It's not you, Filius, it's me." Snape stopped as Flitwick harumphed and continued before he could further harangue him. "It's all me. And," he took a deep breath, "Potter."
Flitwick didn't look surprised. He rolled his hand in front of him, raising his brows, indicating, 'Go on'.
Severus sighed. "Harry and I have been having some--problems. Last night was the first time I've seen him in a few days. We're not--close--anymore."
Severus could see a few irate thoughts flick through Flitwick's face before he schooled his features into a smooth mask; Snape couldn't explain how he knew they were not directed at him, though. Out loud Flitwick said gently, "I am assuming you don't know why or where he's gone or you would not be in such bad shape." He chuckled lightly. "I've never seen you at a loss when you had direct action to take."
"I don't know what to do, Filius," he said equally quiet, quickly suppressing the anguish he felt before it reached his eyes.
The look of sympathy Flitwick gave him said he knew just how much the statement had cost the Potions Master. "Severus, it's obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that you care deeply for Harry." He held up a hand as Snape opened his mouth to protest. "No, don't get all bristly with me. The way you two look at each other is positively nauseating at times; I admit to my envy. However, I am mystified. I have never seen you give up on something you truly want; you normally pursue things with the tenacity of a starving Ridgeback after a fresh meal. Why the sudden change? Are you not as enamoured of him as you once were?" He shook his head ruefully. "Never mind--dumb question."
Severus debated and decided. Flitwick was mostly harmless and not prone to gossip. "No, I lo--care for him, but I was stupid. I never told him; I guess I always thought he knew." He hung his head, looking at the grass next to him. "Now, I'm afraid it's too late," he whispered. "If I tell him now, he'll just think I'm saying it to get him back. And he'd be partially right. He's not a 'thing' I can actively pursue; he's a person. And if he no longer wants me, then how can I stop him? From leaving?"
Flitwick harumphed and eyed his friend indulgently. "Severus, you might not believe me, but things are not as bad as they seem. I've heard him at the staff table--heard how he speaks about you. He obviously--" he cleared his throat, "--cares for you, too. He's just young, and young men do thoughtful things in a thoughtless manner. You, being the advanced age you are and never having really been young, probably don't remember that." He smiled.
Severus smiled back just a little. 'Who knew Flitwick, of all people, would know the right things to say. Although, I admit, he is often 'overlooked'. No, Severus, you will NOT snicker.'
"Filius, I owe you more than an apology. I owe you my thanks. While I won't go so far as to say, 'I feel better', I do feel less badly."
Flitwick shook his head, snorting, "That's the nicest thing you've never said to me, Severus." He laughed outright, his eyes merry. "You're welcome," he shook a finger at Snape, his eyes mischievous, "but this still doesn't make us best friends."
Snape pulled back his head to stare at him, his black humour firmly in place. "Good gad, I hope not."
Right after his talk with Flitwick, Severus attacked his lunch with a little more gusto, even if he still didn't eat but half of it. Dobby made a note and reported back to Dumbledore as requested. Albus was not happy and given the talk he'd just had with Flitwick, who was worried, he knew he had to talk with Harry as soon as possible. It was a good thing they were meeting later this evening. It would save him the trouble of summoning him.
His afternoon period of the day being his own, Severus restrained the urge to rip the wrapper off the package just delivered by a black Express Owl. The package was heavier than he'd expected and thicker too. He used the scroll opener to break the seal on the promised plain brown wrapper and pulled the paper off to reveal a nicely bound, green leather book with gold leaf. The title was small and discreet: "Answers for the Discriminating Male" Mystified, he opened the front cover where the title was more properly displayed; he heaved a sigh of relief. It was the right book.
He sat down in his chair by the unlit fireplace, his feet on the pouffe and opened the book to the Introduction. It was fairly dry but at least explained why the cover was the way it was. 'I suppose some men might be embarrassed to have the title on the front, although I can't imagine why.' He read farther. 'Oh, that makes sense. No rug rats here, and I hadn't thought about women buying it, either.'
He'd been so engrossed in his overview he missed the sibilant scratching of scales on the floor. He continued reading. A pointy black and white head poked over the top of the pouffe, slowly rising until the body could follow. Severus was so involved with the Introduction, he didn't notice the reptile invasion. Evidently the book came complete with special notes and cut-away sections for the more difficult techniques requiring special 'interior' methods. His curiosity peaked, he decided to skip the rest of the Introduction as it was quickly descending into drivel about 'sharing with your partner' and other revolting romantic notions.
About this time he could feel Horatio's rather substantial weight on his legs travelling up his torso until his inquisitive bright eyes were about six inches from his own. Horatio turned his head to look at the page and drew back hissing, his head hitting Severus in the face as he tried to get away from the garish moving pictures. "Sensible fellow, Horatio. They are pretty lurid." He placed his hand on the back of the snake's head to calm him down and keep him from breaking his nose which seemed to work. He wouldn't exactly call it petting, one did not pet snakes, but it was close enough.
While Horatio continued his trek up Severus' chest to settle as his new choker, he quickly scanned the Table of Contents; it was divided into two parts--'General Topics', and 'Techniques'. A couple of the items caught his eye and he quickly turned to see what they were about. 'My,' he thought looking at the Wizarding Sketches in the book, 'I'm not sure that's physically possible; it certainly looks uncomfortable.' After flipping through the pages with their myriad of flashing pictures, he quickly decided he needed to be more methodical about this whole thing and a little less cosy. What he'd seen so far was promising, if a bit overwhelming.
Horatio seemed to agree. His head stretched out from Severus' shoulder, looking at the pictures. He slued his body around to face Severus and flicked his tongue, hitting Severus' nose. Severus shook his head and decided they needed to move.
Holding Horatio firmly so he wouldn't fall off, Severus got out of the chair and went to his desk where he pulled out a fine tipped quill and his favorite red ink. 'Hmmm. Last bottle. Need to pick up some this weekend if I'm to finish critiquing that paper Hermione asked me to look over.' He hesitated about the parchment, but a quick glance showed him the margins in the pages were ample for short notes and questions to look up later if need be. He cleared the rest of the desk and set to work, feeling like an under-grad cramming for a test in a class he'd been ignoring all year.
The farther into it he got, the less exciting it was. The dry, factual text made it easier to concentrate and after about the third chapter, he was numb to any stimulation the pictures could have brought. And there was a plethora of pictures. Many were basic things he already knew--'Don't use your teeth unless you either shield them or are very sure of your lover'--and he moved quickly through them.
Others were so strange he had to stop and really study the moving pictures before he could figure out what it was one was supposed to do; these were the ones most likely to have cut-away sections, which he found mostly hilarious. A few of them were quite disgusting in a fascinating kind of way, especially the ones about "Animagus and Oral Sex." He shuddered, 'A squid?'
Page after page, the level of the red ink dropped in the bottle as he added notes all over the margins. A couple of the techniques especially confounded him; it didn't matter whether he turned the book upside down and downwards, leaf facing the floor, or sideways--'Absolutely anatomically impossible for anyone other than a contortionist.' Just looking at them made his bones ache.
Several hours later he finished, the ink almost gone; it had been many years since he'd had to take such extensive notes. His bum was sore from the hard chair, his fingers stiff, and he had a headache from all the moving pictures. But it had been worth it. The book had been as helpful as he could have wished; there were a couple of things he wouldn't mind trying tonight, assuming Harry was at home and willing.
He slumped in the seat defeated. 'Who am I fooling? Even if he does come home, like last night, he still won't be interested.' He looked at the clock and noticed it was already dinner time. He decided to take a shower and then go to the Great Hall for dinner.
He gently unwound Horatio who, for all he knew, had been asleep. He certainly had been no bother. The snake easily moved off and Severus carried him over to his bed by the fireplace. The snake coiled and resumed his motionless state.
Most of the school was empty, as was the Great Hall. Severus toyed with his food in silence sitting next to Dumbledore who seemed a bit pre-occupied.
"I'm sorry, Severus, what did you just say?" he asked, turning to look at his colleague and friend.
"I said nothing, Albus." He gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. "You know, I have potions to take away those little voices. You've only to ask."
"Oh, pish!" he exclaimed and then looking closely at him, his eyes sharpening behind his half-moon spectacles, said, "However, you don't look so well yourself, my boy. What's troubling you?"
Severus wished he could confide in Dumbledore, but the subject was just too personal. "Nothing, Albus, everything is just fine." He supposed his inability to look him in the eye as he said it earned him the Headmaster's next statement.
"Poppycock!" Dumbledore studied him a moment and put his hand on Severus' lying next to him on the table top. It took some effort not to pull it away; he could see the amusement in Albus' eyes at his fortitude. "You worry too much, my dear boy. Things are not always as they appear; I daresay a good night's sleep will put it all to rights."
'As I thought--the man misses nothing. I don't know why I bother not telling him.' Out loud he said, "Thank you, Albus, once again for your ambiguous reassurances. I feel better already."
"Testy, testy. Somebody missed their nap." He hid his smile behind his napkin.
"With all due respect, sir: sod off!" he exclaimed quietly. 'Gods, that felt good.'
Dumbledore chuckled. "Feel better now?" His face got serious. "Really, Severus, you look like you could use a good night's sleep. There is a reason you make all those batches of Dreamless Sleeping Potion for the school. Use it." The suggestion was more an order.
"Yes, Mum," Severus said with a small smile.
Albus chuckled, and with a fond glance at his protégé, went back to his meal.
Severus finished playing with his meal in silence, and after a good night to Dumbledore, left the Great Hall to go straight back to his quarters.
He looked long and hard at the bottle of potion he pulled from a shelf in the bed chamber while walking back to his study. While not Dreamless Sleeping Potion, it was similar and would let him sleep lightly without the grogginess in the morning. He sat down at his desk, put the potion to the side and resumed his perusal of the book, adding a few more desultory notes here and there.
Well after he'd started, he was exhausted. The pages swam before his eyes, he flipped the book closed, the quill fell from his hand unnoticed, and his heavy eyes finally closed as he fell deeply asleep sitting upright at the desk. Not long afterward, he folded, his head cradled on his arms, still fast asleep.
TBC