Have not died! Have two chapters... I've really been neglecting this story, I am so awful.
The Pureblood Prince
Chapter 49
Drinks with Dumbledore
Eileen probably slept for two hours in total that night, on top of frequent waking every twenty minutes or so. At one stage, she would have guessed around two or three in the morning, she had decided that she could not lie staring up at the ceiling of Hagrid's hut any longer – nor listen to his continuous, deep, loud sleep-breathing from the couch – and got herself up from the bed.
It had been many, many years since she had entered the doors of the castle that loomed in the damp, dark distance beyond the cabin. Only the outline of its towers and walls came into view sporadically as the moon jumped and skirted over the black clouds overhead. Eileen stood on the wet ground, wearing nothing but her nightdress, feeling the ice-cold dew of the grass upon the soles of her feet, wishing she could muster up enough courage to just have a look around the castle once more… just conceal herself by sticking to the walls like a spider and popping her head in her old classrooms just for a few moments at a time…
Before she knew it, she was halfway up the hill and closer to the castle than ever, though she did not remember walking. She felt her feet carry her swiftly toward the large oaken doors, and suddenly she was pulling it open as silently as she could and entering the great Entrance Hall where she had first done so as a pale, trembling eleven year-old.
How much trouble she would have gotten into for trespassing into Hogwarts she had no idea; while Eileen had a clue what the punishment would be for a student wandering the corridors at night, the punishment for an adult who had no reason to be there evaded her entirely. Nevertheless, she found herself quite alone, cold and shivering, in an empty classroom on the ground floor.
She didn't want today to progress any further. She wished time would stop and never continue so that she never had to find out the cold truth. Perhaps she could sit here forever, perhaps she could become a ghost and haunt these corridors and hallways and become oblivious to the world: it sounded like bliss.
With her head upon her folded arms, Eileen did not hear the distant door creak open – and it was a long while before she registered the voice speaking calmly behind her.
"Good to see you back. Though you really should have taken a coat with you, all the way over from Hagrid's: you look frozen."
Dumbledore spoke so fondly that she felt no reason to jump out of her chair. She merely raised her head and turned to look at him, he was smiling at her, dressed head to toe in his nightclothes and holding two steaming mugs of what looked like hot chocolate.
"I felt a tad too greedy tonight and asked for two," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight that seeped through the arch window. "Would you care to relieve me of one?"
Eileen shook her head slowly. Dumbledore sighed sadly and moved gently toward her.
"I may not know much about how you're feeling, Mrs. Snape," he started, setting both of the mugs upon the table between them and taking a seat opposite her. "But I know hot chocolate certainly wouldn't make you feel any worse than you do now."
"Don't call me that," Eileen whispered into the darkness, her eyes glazed over, unable to express anything through them anymore. "I don't want anyone to call me that anymore. I want nothing to do with that name."
"And what of the house of Prince?"
"I want nothing to do with either name."
The Headmaster gave a sad smile, but nodded, one of his fingers tracing the edge of one of the mugs before he took a long sip.
"That is, of course, understandable."
Whether it was his lack of clarification, or merely the irritatingly vague way he had always spoken to her from day dot she did not know, but suddenly hot, emotion was spilling out of her – rivalling the steam swirling from the mugs in front of them.
"Why didn't you help him?" she asked bitterly, looking at him in the eye for the first time. "He went to school with such high hopes when he was eleven – both of us were ecstatic over him leaving because he was so utterly miserable with Tobias and me."
Dumbledore's eyes were trained on hers, he was at least giving off the impression that she was receiving all the attention in the world now.
"That's not exactly difficult to conclude," Eileen added. "He watched his own father pummel his mother simply for having a 'bad day at work' as he used to say… his mother, who could technically have destroyed his father with a single hand gesture but she never did. He watched her take it his entire life, right up until he left home no more than a few months ago. So you'll forgive me in falsely hoping that this school would have provided him with some feeling of refuge – of safety."
She made a bitter, incredulous noise.
"I may have failed him infinitely more than you did, but you still failed him."
Dumbledore mused on her words for a while, occasionally nodding, occasionally resting his chin upon his fingers, eventually he heaved a great sigh and his voice was filled with sadness.
"I think a lot of people failed your son, Eileen - and I am truly sorry for that…" was his simple and yet poignant reply.
Eileen nodded in agreement.
"Yes," she said. "And now… now I don't know what I'm going to find today."
Dumbledore bowed his head lower and looked at her over the top of his crescent-shaped glasses.
"You only need to do one thing, and one thing only," he instructed as if she were his Transfiguration student again. "… tell him that you love him, and you will love him no matter what he's done, what choices he's made."
"What choices has he made? What's he done?" Eileen asked suddenly, as if Dumbledore knew something that she did not.
Dumbledore merely shrugged.
"I do not pretend to know - but does it matter?" he asked simply. Eileen leaned back in her chair now… did it matter? No. No, she supposed it did not.
"He doesn't think I love him" Eileen answered simply. "It will be nothing but another empty gesture to him; I can't say I blame his reasoning, flawed as it may be."
"Then you must make him believe it this time," replied Dumbledore. "Make him believe it. Do something beyond words. Everything hangs upon it."
Eileen frowned in his general direction. It might have been important for her to ensure that her own flesh and blood did not continue on the path of believing his own mother didn't care for him, but for everything to hang upon it? That seemed a tad rich and melodramatic for her liking. Then again, it was Albus Dumbledore. They had never seen eye-to-eye.
"I do not wish to be intrusive," continued Dumbledore, with clear indication that what followed was going to be intrusive "but where do you plan to go after this? I am assuming you no longer wish to see your husband."
"I'll think of something" Eileen replied simply, with a tetchy tone in her voice – a clear warning for him not to probe any further into her private affairs.
"You have your family - that's something."
She couldn't staunch her bitter laugh this time.
"Six of one, half a dozen of the other…"
She was rather hating the way the Headmaster was looking at her now; even in the dim light of early morning, she could see that it resembled something of great pity, and it was slowly amplifying her anger at an increasingly speedy level. Eileen could not escape the feeling that he was studying every bruise on her face, every line, every inch of terrible history…
"I wish you all the luck and healing in the world, Eileen, I do" he whispered empathetically before offering her the last mug of hot chocolate one more time, which she again shook away. "If there's anything I can do…"
Eileen shook her head again. She was not sure that she could accept Dumbledore's help in good faith any more, it came too late for her son, and she wanted no part in it.
It had suddenly become a lot colder, and she could not stop herself shivering aggressively.
"Would you like me to show you to a spare chamber for the rest of the morning?" Dumbledore asked, his voice morphing back into its usual cheery, helpful demeanor. "That way you can at least get some sleep - "
"No, I'll go back to -" Eileen stopped herself, thinking it best she didn't mention Rubeus too much. He had been so kind to her and did not want to repay him with knowing looks and comments from Dumbledore whenever their paths crossed at school. "… I'll go back." She ended.
He nodded and smiled.
"Very well. I suppose I shall just have to suffer through the second one of these!" he patted her on her bony arm kindly, gathered up the mugs and left her to her thoughts once more. But it was not long until Eileen was hastily shuffling back to her bed, determined to get there before daybreak and away from the many prying eyes behind the windows of the castle.
Severus must have read the letter at least a dozen more time that morning as he paced his bedroom… not that he should have called it his bedroom… the bedroom on loan to him from Narcissa and Lucius more like; a bedroom he was slowly beginning to feel that he was outstaying his welcome in. It wasn't so much that the newlyweds minded having him there, he was an expert at keeping to himself and remaining firmly out of anyone's way without a single notice, it was more that he himself was beginning to feel rather of out place. This manor, Malfoy Manor, was certainly not a place he could feel at home in; but then where would he feel at home? Spinner's End, certainly not. Hogwarts had ended up being another severe disappoint to him too.
His black eyes glanced over the sent address on the letter… so Mrs. Prince had important news, did she? Was it to offer him a permanent residence at her own manor? He wasn't quite sure he liked that idea, either.
He had intended to slip away that morning, once again unseen by the occupants of the household, but as soon as he crossed the entrance hall toward the door he heard Lucius's voice call behind him.
"Where to, Severus?"
Severus halted by the door and turned back to his friend.
"I have a few errands to run. I didn't want to intrude on your breakfast." He answered the far fresher-looking blonde man.
"Oh, no," Lucius waved it away "The elf has made enough for ten, I'd wager. No wonder we go through necessities like air; the dumb little thing has the most atrocious sense of proportion." He cast a cantankerous look toward the kitchen.
"You are more than welcome to stay for breakfast," he continued, gesturing toward the next room.
"Thank you," said Severus, inclining his head ever so slightly. "But I really must be going. Incidentally…" he pushed gently, lowering his voice so substantially that Lucius instinctively moved closer to him in order to hear. "… I really must insist that while I am living under this roof, both Narcissa and yourself are compensated somehow. Your hospitality has been deeply appreciated, but -"
Lucius reacted with a sudden bewildered laugh. "Don't be ridiculous! We have no need for your money, Severus!"
He seemingly unconsciously gestured all around them and Severus could feel heat rising in his cheeks. It was embarrassing enough that he felt compelled to offer something, let alone be made to feel a fool about his piteous assets. Lucius's reaction settled it – gracious as though he and Narcissa had been, it was time to move on.
"I'll see you this evening for the meeting," Severus nodded a farewell and turned away toward the door, eager to hide his very likely bright red face from anyone's gaze. He strolled out to the courtyard, the letter still stowed in one of his deep pockets, and Apparated away.