A.N.: Warnings: will be slash later (maybe semi-graphic, maybe not at all). If you're not comfortable with the idea, by all means leave. Anyway, I've finally gotten back into fanfiction out of a desperate effort to cure the boredom of Mr. Felix's AP History class, and so long as I get some reviews (hint hint, wink wink) I will be continuing this for quite some time, I hope. *Bonus points to any reviewer who correctly translates & identifies the allusion in the title*
Disclaimer: If I were J.K Rowling I would have a lot more money, creativity, and fans, to name a few.
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Meaning no disrespect, sir, Severus intoned (but the word was dripping with sardonicism, his voice, laden with disrespect) do you honestly expect me to go and plead with a dysfunction lycanthrope in an asylum in some godforsaken part of Wales so that he would just please come and... Severus exhaled loudly and fixed Albus with his favourite glare, the one which terrified the burliest of seven years but only made Albus' eyebrow quirk a centimeter upwards.
Carry on. Albus was speaking softly, the tone not menacing but hardly comforting either.
...and -- you could hear the quote marks around the following words team teach the Defense class with me? Severus' face refused to be expressive -- it always refused -- but his eyes were flashing, and his voice had, if such a thing were even possible, become more sardonic. I'm shooting myself in the foot,' Severus found himself thinking vaguely to himself, in both feet.' The realization did nothing to stop him.
A momentary silence; then Albus leveled his eyes with Severus'. Yes, Severus, precisely. That's quite what I expect. His voice was only becoming calmer, almost lighter, as though in response to the flashing in Severus' onyx eyes.
For a moment Severus was unable to respond. There was something physical in the despise he felt towards that calmness you could never wipe from Albus' voice, so real, so unlike Severus' own affectations of calm detachment. He shook his head briskly, found that doing so did little to resettle him, and opened his mouth at last: Albus, honestly -- he aspirated the h for emphasis -- you remember three years ago. Bloody hell, you remember nine years ago. Taking on a man in... He could not hold back a trace of the sneer which customarily graced his pale lips, and cursed himself. ...in Mr. Lupin's unfortunate condition simply isn't wise, whether he leaves and I take his place during his monthly -- the sneer Severus had been holding back overflowed onto his face and into his voice -- leaves of absence or not. Parents, members of the ministry, the international...well, it's just isn't prudent, Albus.
Severus, I daresay I need not tell you that there are a fair few people who, were they familiar with your peculiar circumstances, would think my judgment in employing yourself rather questionable, to say the least. Severus could swear he could see a trace of a familiar sneer on Albus' own lips, and he glared back, hissing silently,'Then why do you tell me, if you really daresay you need not.
Severus opened his mouth, making as to respond, and then shut it again, unable to come up with an adequately biting response. He gave up.
You know that I...Albus, you know that...
I know that you, and I also know that Lupin.
Gods, Albus... But his lips sealed shut. All right, even that aside, you know that...that... Severus' lungs exploded at last. Gods, Albus, the man hasn't been well since Black's death... Severus' voice, usually so curt, trailed off unnaturally as though he were trying to both speak and not speak the last two words.
Am I to presume that you have been perfectly well, and then Albus added, a bit louder, after Black's death?
Severus flinched involuntarily -- almost imperceptibly, thought Albus -- but spoke bracingly all the same. You don't see me acting like a madman because of Black, do you? You don't see me catatonic because of Black, do you? Or psychotic, because of Black? I'm just the same cold, icy Severus, aren't I? Aren't I?
So it seems. Albus was sighing the deep, sad sigh that always made Severus want to scream. Yes, Severus, you seem just the same man. And that is just what worries me. The only thing, Severus reflected, that he might hate more than that one sigh was the caring, didactic tone which Albus took on with children and, occasionally, Severus. The one he was taking on now. Albus was shaking his head, Severus vaguely perceived. Hasn't it occurred to you that I might have your interests as well as Remus' at hand? Albus watched as Severus' visage endured an infinite series of changes -- disgust and confusion featured prominently among them -- and he sighed heavily.
Goddamn you, Albus, you and your sighs. Severus rubbed his temples.
Well then, and Albus' voice suddenly became unnaturally brisk. Well then. It's time I go along. I trust you'll go and see Remus about this now?
It looked as though the action cost him all the endurance he possessed, but Severus mutely nodded his assent, unable to do anything else to the request of the only man he knew who kept an absurd yet somehow touching blind faith in Severus' capacity for good. And as he left the office in Albus' wake, Severus reluctantly found that while his head was wandering uncertainly -- almost drunkenly -- going nowhere in particular, his feet were leading him, quite deliberately, towards the ward where Remus lay.
