Chapter 7
I knew someone was in my quarters, I never leave any lights on, nor is the fire lit. "Dumbledore," I whispered; he's the only person who could get past my wards.
"Severus, are you going to let yourself in?" he was amused, he was far too easily amused. As I opened the door, I glared at him; he was sat at my writing desk he'd even started my last bottle firewhisky. He would pay for that later.
"You're drinking my whisky, why?"
"Because it's the only thing worth drinking in this place," he shrugged, I was beginning to think the headmaster had a problem – but only with my firewhisky.
"Right; give me that bottle," I went to take it from him; despite his age his reflexes where surprisingly good.
"No," Albus' tone was far too childish, he was definitely drunk. But what could I do with a drunk Albus Dumbledore? Well I could take him to the Hogs Head – Aberforth would get a laugh out of it.
"Albus, sleep," I raised my wand at him as he fell asleep, carefully I levitated him onto my bed; catching the bottle as it fell from his grasp – there was barely enough left for me to drown my sorrows in. Apparently the man had more worries than I knew of, but that was to be expected, who would confide in me. "What am I going to do with you?" I sighed, as he moaned in his sleep; rolling over he looked like an overgrown cocoon. Even in my overheated room, he was shivering. I left him in my bed as I went to my private office, where most of my liquor was hidden; only the house-elves knew about it and I had them convinced that they would die very painfully if they ever mentioned it. Summoning a chair I fell into it behind my desk, I had thrown my cloak over a table that had my potion supplies on. As soon as my head hit the desk I was getting drowsy, I undid the three top buttons on my shirt; just to be comfortable. Subconsciously, I began fiddling with the wedding ring I kept on a simple chain around my neck; it was a plain but proud ring – the only reminder I had of my old life, the one before I had lost all rationality.