Chapter 32
/Prof! PA-ROF! PROF, come on wake up! I'm dying here!/
Severus squeezed his eyes shut and curled one arm protectively around his throbbing head. "If you don't shut up I'll speed up the process for you," Severus growled.
/I could be cowed or offended, but how productive would that shit be, right? You're only being shitty because you are suffering as much as I am...SO, reason dictates that you get the fuck up and get us some sort of anti-hangover potion so we can feel better, please...Um...You do have anti-hangover potions right,/ Nightshade asked almost desperately.
"OR we could simply go back to sleep and hope we never wake or that we eventually wake feeling better," Severus suggested, not moving.
Nightshade hesitated for a long moment then asked, /So are you saying that anti hangover potions don't exist or that you don't have any made up?/
"I'm saying I never need them so of course I have none made up," Severus answered, putting a bloody end to Nightshade's hope of instant hangover relief. "Just go back to sleep," Severus told the owl in an exasperated tone.
/Dude, don't you think if I could do that I would have and not bothered waking you up?/
"Well try harder," Severus said, planning to return to sleep himself because being awake was quite painful at present. Unfortunately that didn't happen. Instead he lay in bed feeling utterly miserable for an hour before he gave up on sleep. When he sat up, pain jackknifed through his head and he groaned.
/Yep. Been feeling that for an hour and a fucking half,/ Nightshade commented unsympathetically.
Severus staggered across the room and filled two cups with water. "Perhaps if we hydrate. I do have potions for a headache. I'll just get those."
He and Nightshade drank their water then he gave them both a spoon from his large bottle of pain killer elixir. They'd slept through breakfast. By the time they were in any condition to leave Severus's chambers it was time for lunch. As the Christmas holiday wasn't over yet there was only a smattering of people in the Great Hall. Ignoring the few students scattered at their house tables, Severus slumped into his seat at the staff table.
"Are you unwell, Severus," Albus asked and Severus cringed.
The headmaster wore a Christmas sweater so bright it nearly hurt his eyes. "Don't feel good," he mumbled.
"Madam Pomfrey is still here as you know. Why don't you stop by the hospital wing after you eat," Albus suggested, giving Severus a look of open concern.
Nightshade tentatively tore a peace of roast from the hunk on Severus's plate. /I hope food doesn't make me puke,/ the owl thought shakily.
/You and me both,/ Severus agreed, eyeing the plate dubiously. He knew food should settle his stomach, but he hated throwing up so hoped it worked. "It's just a bit of a hangover," Severus assured the headmaster, poking at a wedge of roasted potato with his fork before slowly putting it into his mouth. "I accidentally ended up at a Christmas party last night."
"Well!" Albus gave a surprised smile. "Did you have a nice time, then? You don't get out nearly enough, you know."
He didn't get out enough because people...But as he'd told Albus this more than once before, he didn't bother to waste his few resources by doing so again. Today it was all he could do to sit nearly upright, after all. Instead he just shrugged. "It was fine."
He offered no more on the situation and though he could see that Albus was curious, he didn't press for more information. Minerva came in then and Severus turned pointedly to his food, not wanting the transfigurations professor hearing his personal business. Of course he didn't want most people hearing his personal business. He and Nightshade got through the meal without throwing up and both man and owl felt mildly better for getting some food into them. As he headed back down to the dungeons, Severus finally felt well enough to allow his mind to play over the events of the past night. Seeing Heather and Raislen was oddly surreal, but just as oddly, normal as well. Nearly as if the three of them hadn't missed a beat from the old days at Hogwarts when Heather and Raislen called him kid and defended him from the Gryffindor Gang of Gits. Those days were gone, though, and more importantly, ruined. Heather and Raislen turning their backs on him had done that...So last night, though almost fun, had been pointless, he concluded to himself as he reentered his chambers.
Nightshade wanted to say that Heather and Raislen had hated ending the friendship, but felt they had no choice. He wanted to say that he and Mags disagreed with their choice nonetheless. Prof knew all that though, and still wasn't receptive to working out his feelings on the matter at present so Nightshade opted to leave that fun little shitstorm to Mag to handle whenever. Instead he opted to speak for himself rather than attempting to speak for anyone else. /Um Prof? I just wanted you to know that I'm always your friend and shit, okay?/
Severus paused in mid stride on his way across the room, uncertain why those words struck him so deeply today. He placed a hand lightly on Nightshade's back. The gesture reminded him suddenly of the way he'd touched Mag's hair the previous night, mainly to keep her steady as he feared she'd topple onto the floor. He'd certainly been drunk, for he'd forgotten that until just now. He opened his mouth, then realized he had no idea what he planned to say so shut it again. Instead he walked the rest of the way over to his armchair and sank into it. He began to scratch Nightshade's neck, right behind his head where the owl liked to be scratched. It was then, just when both were beginning to relax, that the dark mark on Severus's arm flared to life.
/Really? Today,/ Nightshade demanded, looking skyward as if grumbling to the gods, which he probably was. /I feel like shit, and I gotta deal with lizard brain to-fucking-day?/
"I can leave you here if you like," Severus offered distractedly, for he was actually having similar thoughts himself. He was just getting over his headache, and a weakened physical state wasn't particularly desirable for keeping up strong mental shields against the likes of Voldemort.
/Fuck that,/ Nightshade replied firmly. /We do this together./
Again Severus had no words to express the disconcerting feelings Nightshade's reply engendered so he lightly touched the owl's back instead, as he had done earlier. "Well, as you would say, lets get this shit done," Severus said, standing and heading for the wardrobe where his Death Eater robe and mask were hidden away.
Nightshade made that rough coughing sound in the back of his throat, his version of a laugh, as he rocked back and forth on Severus's shoulder. /You're learning, Prof! I'm proud of you./
"If only I could decide if that was a good thing," Severus said dryly.
They didn't speak again as they left the dungeon and headed through the castle and over the grounds. Each was focused inward, readying his mind for what was to come in their own way. When Severus apparated, Nightshade blinked in surprise to find Christmas decorations in his face of all fucking things. That he was not expecting.
/If Lizard Brain is dressed as fucking Santa I may not be able to handle it,/ he warned.
The decorations nearly covered the front door of the manor they stood facing. Severus lifted the ornate knocker and a defeated looking elf opened the door in a matter of seconds. It bowed low and ushered him inside, leading them to a sitting room full of Death Eaters. Thank the gods Lizard Brain was not dressed as Santa. Knowing he'd messed up last time, Nightshade kept his task in the forefront of his mind. To plunder the brains of all the fucktards here for anything useful. It was more difficult than he liked due to the fact Lizard Brain still freaked him the fuck out. Voldemort had a cold, inhuman energy coming off him in waves and the god damn snake at his side seemed to have two...awareness inside of it? He didn't dare fuck with it too much. Still noticing that, vague as the observation was, may be somewhat useful.
Severus remained still and quiet after exchanging a few random greetings as he was expected to do. Malfoy manor was practically oozing Christmas spirit, and the smell of sugar cookies was heavy in the air. He would bet Narcissa's twelve days of holiday festivities had just been interrupted. That was amusing, or would've been was the situation not so dangerous. The Dark Lord only asked him one direct question, which was fortunate as his headache was threatening to return.
"Know you the whereabouts of the boy at present, Severus," he hissed.
"I do not, Lord. Perhaps he is with the Weasleys, but I do not know this for a fact. I have received no information on the matter." There was always the balance of truth with not handing the boy over. The Dark Lord knew when one was lying, so he always made sure to speak the truth to an extent. Severus would happily hand Potter over to him, glad for him to die the same death of his parents, because he was a worthless prat just as they were. Still somehow, Potter held the means to kill Voldemort that no one else did...And for Tobias Snape, to avenge his father, Severus would even defend the life of the prat child of his prat childhood enemy if that was how it had to be. The meeting was over soon enough, and Severus apparated them back to the edge of Hogwarts grounds.
/I'm so fucking glad Mamma Malfoy didn't pass around fucking sugar cookies. I really don't think I could've handled that shit,/ Nightshade proclaimed.
Severus smiled. /Did you see anything interesting,/ he asked.
/Oh it was all interesting,/ Nightshade responded, thoughts coming slowly. In a way, he had to ponder through the implications of what he'd seen himself as he spoke. Hopefully Prof knew more and could shed some light on the vast amounts of weird. /So it's like the snake has two energies in it./
/Energies,/ Severus questioned.
/Conciousnesses...awarenesses,/ Nightshade struggled to explain. /Also half his Death Eaters seem scared shitless of him like they'd really rather not be there while the others are like overly fucking devoted in the weirdest of ways. I expected them to all be apeshit crazy but it's more strange than that somehow. It's like...like you know how you think I'm cool right?/
Severus's thin lips twitched slightly in amusement. /Yes./
/Okay like up that by a thousand or a million thousand or something. Like if you thought I said something funny, instead of you smiling a little you'd be like Nightshade is the funniest coolest most awesome motherfucking god damn owl in the world ever and I want to think about Nightshade and how awesome he is all the time and I'm just so awesome because he's my owl and he talks to me and I really like it a fucking god damn lot when he thinks I'm awesome or when I please him with yummy turkey./
Severus laughed. /Are you actually in the mood for turkey?/
/Fuck no. My belly's still being all weird!/
All amusement aside, Severus fell silent, considering Nightshade's words. There were many layers of complexity there, he knew. Nagini having two energies...the divided reactions of Voldemort's followers, the devotion that didn't seem quite natural... /I knew that some did not want to follow him, but not in the inner circle so much, to be honest./
/Yeah,/ Nightshade agreed. /You'd think he'd only want people close to him that he likes and trusts./
/Unless,/ Severus said thoughtfully. /Unless he can trust them without liking them, because he knows they have no choice but to do exactly what he wants./
/Which is even more fucked up,/ Nightshade observed unnecessarily. /And you know what else is fucked up, Prof? We're probably too hungover to want any brandy this time so we gotta roll with the creepy aftermath sober!/