A Potions Master's Perspective – Part 4

"That toad!" Severus fumed, "High Inquisitor indeed! Who does she think she is? No, don't answer that." Severus raised a hand to stop the Headmaster from saying anything.

The Headmaster merely chuckled.

"Think this is funny, do you?" Severus sneered. He drew himself to his full height and glared at the Headmaster sitting behind his desk. "Perhaps you won't find it as amusing when she takes over that chair you sit in," Severus paused, "Albus!"

"Calm down Severus. Yes, you are right, she will soon take over as the Headmistress." Albus twinkled at the gob-smacked Potions' Master, " I have to discuss certain matters with you now."

Severus' jaw clenched, a vein in his temple throbbed, and it looked like he had several unpleasant things to say, at the tip of his tongue.

Albus heard the window panes shake.

Severus never heard the twittering and tinkling of Albus' prized collection of seemingly useless things, as they rattled and panicked within their cabinets.

Albus' blue eyes lost their twinkle, and Fawkes trilled a worried note.

"Severus…"

The cup of tea Severus had been glaring at, shattered, and tea spilled over the table and dripped onto the carpet and parchment on the table.

Albus seemed to grow in stature and glow. Magical energy swirled around him in wisps of blue and white.

"Severus!" He boomed.

That seemed to snap the younger wizard out of his consuming anger, he looked a bit fearful as he looked at the Headmaster, frowning at him from where he stood, a few feet away.

Severus still felt the tickle of magical energy, even if Albus had calmed down himself. Shining blue eyes seemed to sap all the rage out of him, and Severus slumped into an armchair that had helpfully moved right behind him, nudging the back of his knees.

He held his head in his hands and muttered something under his breath. The teacup was whole again, no tea stained the carpet, nor parchment. Nothing seemed out of place. He could feel the burning gaze of the Headmaster at the top of his bowed head, and he sighed. It was very rare that he lost control like this.

He was being nudged by something warm, and he turned his head slightly to see a steaming cup of Earl Grey floating by his side. He snorted softly, and raised his head. Albus always thought tea solved everything.

Severus was tempted to believe him.

He took the cup of tea and wrapped his long, potions' stained fingers around it. The warmth seeping into his fingers helped a little, and he inhaled the crisp smell. It must have had something in it, for Severus felt better. Just.

He stared into the block liquid, as if held answers to his questions. Perhaps he should check the tea leaves…

He shook such irrational thoughts out of his mind before he grew a weakness for incense and cooking sherry. Tea leaves indeed.

Albus waited patiently for the younger man to regain his composure.

"She," Severus halted, as if speaking was a difficulty, "she poured salt in open wounds, Albus. The Defense position. Of that she spoke. Rubbing it in my face. 'Unsuccessful'," he snorted, " that's what she said I was. Not for lack of trying, or ability, I am quite sure," he spat out the words, casting a dark look at the Headmaster.

"Now now, Severus," Albus said in a placating tone, "you know it is not your qualifications that are found in any way or form lacking; quite the contrary; you are most qualified among all the people I know, for teaching that class. I also hope you do not think I trust you any less. I trust you with my life, you know that well."

Severus said nothing, but sipped on his tea, with a distinctly stony face. Albus shook his head in disapproval, but continued, "You are very well aware of the reasons I cannot give you the position, regardless of how much I want to." Snape only nodded in response, a slight action that would have been missed if Albus were not staring at him.

"I'm sorry, Severus."

"Do not apologize, Albus," Severus hissed with such vehemence, it surprised the other man. "It was not my intention," he said more gently.

He set the teacup on the table, sat back in the chair and crossed his legs. Resting his elbows on the arm rests, he steepled his fingers in front of his face. His hair curtained his face as he looked at the gnarled hands of his friend and mentor. When he looked up at the headmaster, Severus seemed every bit of the arrogant, cold, intimidating man he was known to be, sitting regally in the chair.

It didn't fool Albus one bit.

He only laughed and all the tension seemed to leave Severus' body, though he sat stiff and looked slightly bored.

"We were to discuss certain matters, Headmaster," Severus drawled, and raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Ah, yes," Albus stroked his beard, "How goes remedial potions?"

"As dismal as ever. Potter seems every bit as disinclined to learning, as was his father. Seems to enjoy getting the essence of the dungeon floor on his knees and arse," Severus smirked.

"Give the young man some time, he might even surprise you, I daresay."

"Only you can have hope for the hopeless, Albus. A two headed basilisk may yet be born."

The Headmaster sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "As much as you pretend to detest the boy, we both know otherwise."

"Who says it is pretence?"

The look Albus leveled at Severus only mad the other man turn away.

"Don't Albus."

Albus only shook his head sadly and changed the topic. No point arguing with a determined Snape.

"When Dolores takes over as Headmistress in my absence," Severus looked at the headmaster sharply, but Albus only ploughed on, " I will need you to pay extra heed to Harry's well being."

"Of course, Headmaster. Anything else?" sarcasm dripped from the words, "Perhaps I should help with the re-decoration of this office? Plastered pink and cat-friendly?"

"Severus! Your sense of humor is unrivaled, for those who understand it."

"Why thank you Albus. If I live through this, perhaps I will start my own traveling show; 'Severus' Snarky Snippets' or some such ghastly thing. My shining personality can only help."

Albus couldn't hold it back anymore. He cracked up and laughed till tears streamed down his aged face. Severus waited till the Headmaster calmed down enough from imagining a performing Snape, he shuddered slightly at the embarrassing and possibly ridiculously clad image of himself. Knowing Albus, there was probably a lot of purple, gold, and other equally nauseating colors. He winced.

But he also couldn't stop a smile, small but genuine, from curling his lips. It had been a while since Albus had relaxed enough to actually enjoy a joke, let alone laugh heartily.

Ever since the Dark Lord had raised his snake-like head, the lines on Albus face had deepened, and only Minerva, other than himself, were privy to exactly how tired Albus really was. He felt the self-ridicule was worth it this time.

It was the least he could do to make things a little lighter, for the man who had welcomed him with open arms when the whole world had shunned him. Yes, there were many times he felt like throttling the old man himself, but his faults were inconsequential, compared to the vast forgiving nature Albus had.

Shame welled within him, and Severus stared at his hands, resting on his crossed knees. He didn't deserve the trust and friendship.

He certainly didn't deserve the forgiveness.

Maybe his face reflected his emotions, maybe his eyes showed the flare of self loathing, or maybe Albus simply knew him that well; Severus was startled out his thoughts by a soft tough on his head. He closed his eyes and shamefully took comfort from the only person he trusted completely.

(To be continued)