Severus lifted his head from the Pensieve, blinking at this. That hadn't been what Dumbledore had said, had it?
'Are you all right?' Cheiron asked.
'Are you sure these memories are reliable?' Severus asked. 'I think in one or two places they may have been warped from swilling around in the sentimental depths of Potter's brain.'
'It's possible,' Cheiron admitted. 'He gave me this set only the day after you passed your memories on to him, so I wouldn't have thought there was much time for them to be distorted by time, but he could have misremembered details. What in particular were you wondering about?'
'Well, when I asked Dumbledore if he didn't care about my soul being corrupted by killing him, I'd have thought his response would be more along the lines of, "So what? You're going to hell anyway; you've been irredeemably evil from the age of eleven, or you would never have been Sorted into Slytherin."'
'Do you think that is what he believed? That all Slytherins were worthless?'
Severus considered. 'Well – no,' he admitted. 'If he truly believed that, he wouldn't have worried about Draco. Unless everything he said was a lie, and he just wanted the Dark Lord to regard me as Dumbledore's vanquisher and the possessor of the Elder Wand so that the Dark Lord would kill me to possess it.'
'Do you think that's the best explanation, then?'
'No. If that was all he had wanted, he could easily have let Draco die in trying to kill him, then have me kill him myself. I think he did want to spare Draco if possible. Maybe because he's pretty and blond and a pure-blood?'
'Do you think that was the real reason, then?'
'No. Whatever else Dumbledore was, he wasn't racist. I don't know any other heads of magical schools – not in my world, anyway – who would have been comfortable employing a ghost, a werewolf, a half-giant and a centaur as teachers – I'm sorry, but that's how it was in wizarding culture,' he added apologetically to Cheiron, who nodded understandingly, 'or who would have appointed a half-goblin as Head of House. And if blood purity meant much to him, he could have destroyed most of Voldemort's support just by revealing him to be a half-blood. And if he only favoured good-looking people, he would never have let Sirius Black get away with… you know.'
'So what do you think was the reason, then?'
'It could have been that he didn't think I was corruptible that way,' Severus admitted slowly. 'That he was worried about the effect on Draco of murdering him, but not about the effect on me of euthanasing him at his own request when I knew he was dying anyway, because he knew that I wasn't the sort of person who was likely to become addicted to killing. Unlike some people,' he added, with a glance up towards his housemates' bedrooms.
'No. If you were the type, you'd have had ample opportunity, after all,' Cheiron agreed. 'So, do you think that was the reason?'
'No. He regarded me as the scum of the earth. Always.'
'He didn't treat you with any kindness or consideration, from what I've seen,' Cheiron agreed.
'He regarded me as expendable. But then,' Severus added, thinking it over, 'he regarded everyone as expendable. Himself most of all. He needed Harry Potter and me to survive until we were close to defeating the Dark Lord. He didn't need to survive that long himself. So he didn't. And he didn't need Draco to survive at all, but just – hoped he would. Did Draco survive?' he added. Since he'd come here, he hadn't thought that he was allowed to ask any questions about what had happened after his death, but now they were a possibility.
'Yes, he's fine,' said Cheiron. 'And as for Albus Dumbledore – there were reasons he was harsh on you, and they were reasons to do with him, not you,' said Cheiron. 'I don't suppose you read that muckraking biography that came out after his death?'
'Oh, in the middle of convincing the Dark Lord of my loyalty while trying to limit the harm to pupils in a school in the grip of Death Eaters who were forcing them to torture each other, and slipping out on little errands to bring help to Harry Potter without letting him glimpse me, of course I'd have ample time to relax over a trashy biography written by a tabloid journalist who would only coincidentally let any genuine information slip in if she couldn't think of something more sensational to make up!'
Cheiron laughed. 'Exactly. Well, let's just say that it was true that he had a distinctly murky past, even if the biography didn't get the details right. And personally, I wonder if he was projecting a lot of his own feelings of guilt and anger at himself onto you, without thinking rationally about whether you deserved it.'
'Personally, I doubt that Albus Dumbledore was capable of feeling remorse over anything,' Severus retorted. 'Remorse was what he thought other people should feel, not him!'
'Perhaps,' said Cheiron. 'You've known him longer than I have, after all.'
This didn't sound like agreement, to Severus. Probably what Cheiron meant was, 'I think you're being hysterical and unreasonable, so I'm going to refuse to discuss the subject.' Severus's suspicions were confirmed when Cheiron went on to say, 'Do you think it's helpful to go on discussing Albus now?'
'Yes. I need to know whether the memory is true or whether it's been modified.' Not that Potter, with his refusal to master Occlumency (and it was refusal, not inability – Severus had been able to feel the boy's raw, chaotic power in their training sessions) could have modified a memory deliberately, but probably he would have been all too willing to delude himself rather than think badly of his mentor. But then, wouldn't Potter have been more likely to add in insults than take them out, as long as they were addressed to his least favourite teacher? The old man's infuriatingly calm, measured tones did sound like the way he always spoke.
'No, it is real, isn't it?' he went on. 'What Dumbledore meant was "Your euthanasing me isn't the same as someone's murdering me and I'm sure it isn't going to corrupt you," but I heard it as, "I don't care about you," because he mostly didn't.'
'That sounds fairly accurate,' said Cheiron.
'But he thought I was contemptible. He said so.'
'When people say something harsh like that to you, do they always go on believing it, for all time, whatever they see of you after that?'
'Of course. Why should they change their minds, when they've decided to hate me?'
'And if they ever say anything complimentary, like Albus saying you were a brave man – and even if you didn't think it was a compliment to suggest that you should have been in Gryffindor, you know that he intended it as one – do you think they mean the compliments as well as the insults?'
'No. People only ever flatter me when they want something from me.'
'And if they say it when you aren't there to hear? If I showed you a memory of Harry Potter, after your death, telling someone that you were the bravest man he ever knew, would you think he was sincere?'
'No.'
'Do you think there's a problem here?' Cheiron asked.
'You mean that I have a problem in feeling happy because I don't delude myself that anyone likes me, or you have a problem because you can't manipulate me?'
'Neither, really. I meant a logical problem. You know how conspiracy theorists like Xenophilius Lovegood only ever pay attention to data that supports their theories, and dismiss anything that contradicts it as just evidence that the conspiracy goes deeper than they thought?'
'You think I'm being paranoid and irrational.' Just like Dumbledore ignoring his complaints about Harry Potter's behaviour. Just like Lily when they were teenagers, refusing to believe him when he tried to warn her that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Nobody ever listened to him.
'I think that it's hard to be wholly dispassionate about someone who has hurt you,' Cheiron replied. 'I think that people are complex beings and have a tendency to stereotype other people as either wholly good or wholly evil. I think that it can be very easy to know that you yourself have learned and changed and developed over the years, but to think of other people as static. I think that Albus Dumbledore wasn't a nice person and wasn't the mentor you needed or deserved, and I wish you had had good friends whom you could rely on.'
'People like me don't have friends. I've learned that, at any rate.'
'Do you have anyone here you consider a friend? You don't have to answer that right now, if you don't want to?' Cheiron added, seeing Severus's furious expression. 'But it might be worth thinking about.'
'Maybe.'
'Would you like me to stay any longer, or would you rather I went?'
'Leave me alone.'
'If you'd prefer that. I'll be round tomorrow afternoon to see how things are going.'
'I'll start work on the Pensieve modification tonight. I need to make up batches of Calming Draught and Draught of Peace for tomorrow, which will take up several hours. And I suppose it's time I checked that Darth Vader hasn't fallen out of his crib,' he sneered.
'You're being very helpful. Thank you for all that you're doing. Only – apart from checking that Anakin is okay, would you be able to hold off on work for an hour or so after I've gone? Even if you don't have any friends you can call, would you at least be able to make yourself a cup of tea and sit back and relax for a while? This has been quite an intense session, after all.'
'If you insist.'
'It's not an order. But try and see if it helps.'
After Cheiron was gone, and Severus had checked up on Vader (sleeping peacefully, didn't need a pad change, and Severus levitated him for long enough to move him into a different position to make sure he didn't get pressure sores), he made himself tea and toast, and sat down to think about what Cheiron had said about friends. Did he have any friends here? There were quite a few acquaintances whom he could invite round for a game of chess and who wouldn't scream if he told them there was an injured Dark Lord convalescing in the spare room, but – friends? His relationship with Joy Hardbroom consisted of swapping potions recipes and bitching about their students. His relationship with Aizawa Shouta consisted of bitching about their students and about overwork (Aizawa, who was a teacher by day and superhero by night, sometimes borrowed the spare room for a nap, just for the novelty of sleeping in an actual bed rather than in his sleeping bag in a classroom – still, he could borrow Severus's room while Severus was busy downstairs). Rincewind mostly came to the Rock to get some peace and quiet for a change (which both Severus and Konstantine fully sympathised with – anyone who had worked at Hogwarts or lived with Miles Vorkosigan appreciated the value of a quiet life), and it wasn't fair to expect him to be comfortable about the proximity of an ultra-powerful evil wizard.
Esme Weatherwax wasn't frightened of anything, and she was the person to go to if you had a problem – provided it was a problem like, 'One of the first-years has been possessed by a demon and is running around turning people into frogs,' or, 'Vampires are mind-controlling virtually all the staff at Hogwarts, and the only ones who are immune apart from me are Hagrid, Trelawney, and a house-elf called Winky, and only because they're so drunk that the vampires can't find their consciousness.' If he went to her with a problem like, 'My housemate would rather spend time with a Sith Lord than with me and I feel lonely and miserable,' she'd just think he was pathetic. Weatherwax lived alone in a cottage in the forest, kept goats and bees, and had never married and seemingly never wanted to. There had been one wizard boy who had been sweet on her when they were teenagers, but the relationship had never really got started, and she insisted that she had no regrets.
Vaarsuvius, irritating as they were, understood sorrow and regret over bad life decisions, considering the way they had become estranged from their partner and children after making a demonic pact involving genocide in an attempt to protect their family. But that was the problem: Vaarsuvius was probably as likely to sympathise with Darth Vader as with Severus. Severus needed someone who was on his side.
Once, he would have talked to Cheiron about this. In the first few weeks when he had arrived on the Rock, he had stayed with Cheiron, and poured out his heart to him about everything – no Pensieve was required, when all his thoughts and feelings had been so raw and out in the open. And, yes, he had even allowed Cheiron to hold him then, sometimes, and he had felt safe and accepted.
It hadn't been long before he had remembered that feeling safe was the most dangerous thing he could do. Yes, Cheiron had seemed genuinely to love him and care about him – but how long could that last? He had moved out and got his own place, and agreed to brew whatever potions the various healers on the Rock needed, in exchange for accommodation and food. If he could establish himself as useful, he wouldn't be made to leave, but didn't need to get emotionally close to anyone. Cheiron came to visit him from time to time, and asked how things were going, and if Severus was in the mood, he might talk to him, and Cheiron seemed to listen. But still – it wasn't safe to get close.
But then there had been Konstantine. Cheiron had come to talk to Severus about the healing potions Konstantine would need, and about how Severus felt about having him as a neighbour, and Severus had been curious to know more. They'd looked at some of Miles Vorkosigan's memories of him in the Pensieve, and – well, it hadn't been like falling in love sexually or romantically, but there had been the same jolt of 'This is someone like me!' recognition as when he had first seen Lily Evans. He had watched the older man watch anxiously as his teenage charge readied himself for the fitness test for the Imperial Academy, futilely trying to warn the boy to be careful and not do anything stupid like, say, jumping off a wall when you suffer from brittle-bone disease, and then, when the inevitable happened, stoically scanning the extent of his injuries, giving him whatever Muggle first-aid could do, and calling an ambulance, with the air of someone who has been in this situation countless times before. The parallels had been all too clear to Severus, both from his experiences of trying to be a good mentor to Draco and of trying to stop Harry Potter from getting killed. This was someone he felt for. It wasn't just that when Konstantine had actually turned up on the Rock, freshly dead and exhausted with pain from that accursed hex that had been cast on him so long ago, Severus had felt sorry for him. It was that, in spite of what the memories had shown him of the darker side of Konstantine's character, he knew that this was someone he liked and respected and wanted to be friends with.
And if you looked at it like that – it wasn't surprising that Konstantine should feel the same way about Darth Vader that Severus felt about Konstantine, was it? Really, Severus thought, he might have known it: that what would put a strain on their friendship was not Konstantine's barely-controlled impulses towards lethal violence, but his impulses towards compassion and protectiveness. So, he would make new friends, and grow away from Severus, just as Lily had.
Well, no, that was unfair. He wouldn't. Konstantine didn't connect with many people, but when he did, he didn't stop loving them. Ever. Not even if it was someone he had met nearly twenty years ago and who hated and feared him and wanted revenge on him. Certainly not if it was someone he was actually friends with.
And – people accused Konstantine of being paranoid, but he had much more reliable instincts than Severus had ever had for knowing when someone was trustworthy and could be a real friend. And he trusted Severus.
Maybe this would work out somehow, after all.
Author's note: In the last chapter, I lampshaded the way that we are never told Mulciber and Avery's first names, even though they are apparently Severus's closest friends in Slytherin (in contrast to Lily, who at this point thoroughly dislikes James Potter, referring to him by his full name). In this chapter, I wanted to refer to Miss Hardbroom, whose first name is never mentioned in the WorstWitch books, but who has been given different first names in various adaptations. I decided to go with the version in which her first name is Joy, because I like the irony of this for such a grouchy character (as with Joy Merryweather in Drop The Dead Donkey).
