The Sugar Quill
Author: Ninian Echo  Story: Reparo: Post Snape's Worst Memory  Chapter: Default
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Post snapes worst memory

Reparo:

 Post Snape’s Worst Memory

 

As soon as the last of Potter’s cloak tail disappeared through the door frame Severus seized an arbitrary glass jar from behind his desk and hurtled it with extreme force against the opposite stone wall where Potter had been just moments before.

 

Severus stooped over his desk, gripping the wood mercilessly, and grinding his jaw so violently he was likely to wake the birds in The Owlry. The jar contents were slowly oozing themselves to the floor from their point of impact.

 

A soft crunch of glass was heard on the threshold. Severus didn’t care what they said about apparition on Hogwarts grounds, the man in the doorway was an extreme exception to the rule.

 

“Redecorating Severus?” Came a calm weathered voice. Dumbledore gingerly stepped over the mess noting “Ahh, rat brains, an excellent choice- exhibit a highly desirable squelching sound upon impact.”

 

Severus straightened, and rearranged his stony, unaffected, features to their usual disdainful mold.

 

“Headmaster, how may I be of service?” Severus asked knowing full well that the Headmaster had arrived with no such agenda. Still he hoped to convey that no other agenda would be honoured tonight. He had no patience to be admonished by the Headmaster as a misbehaved child. No desire to hear of the man he ought to attempt being. No will to let go of a lifetime of wrongs administered by others.

 

“Service, Severus?” Dumbledore peered at him benignly. “Is that what our relationship has come to? A relationship of hastily administered errands to a pageboy?” he sighed softly. “Severus, it is I who have come to be of service to you.” Severus’ jaw locked, he didn’t want the Headmaster to be of service to him, he didn’t want anyone to be of service to him, he just wanted to be alone in his dungeon with no need of the outside world…the way he had wanted to be for too many years now.

 

The Headmaster continued to survey him with maddening placidness. Severus soon felt the need to pick Dumbledore up himself and throw him unceremoniously across the room. Dumbledore seemed to have the staring power of a jungle cat however and neither moved nor blinked for several minutes.

 

“Tea?” He offered after many moments as if there had been no gap in the conversation; as if he had invited Severus up to his office on a bright Sunday afternoon instead of being party to a brain-strewn dungeon with a mute host.

 

Severus finally slumped in his chair, “Whatever you wish Headmaster” said Snape resigned to let Dumbledore have his way with him so he could go back to brooding in his manner of choice sooner rather than later.

Dumbledore deftly conjured a tray of biscuits and a sterling tea set. He helped himself to a few biscuits and an extra clump of sugar motioning for Severus to help himself. Severus vaguely wondered of the skill of a wizard such as Dumbledore who had the ability to bend so many a person to his will without so much as a word.

 

“Headmaster, there really is no need—“ Severus attempted in vain.

 

“No need? You don’t take your tea with cream?”

 

“No need for you to be wasting your time, I’m sure you have more important things to do.” Severus said pursing his lips.

 

“Ah, that is where you’re wrong Severus, there is nothing more important, or more decidedly valuable I could be doing than exactly this, at this very moment.” Dumbledore assured him, dunking a biscuit into his tea.

 

“Headmaster the boy is unteachable,” Severus cut to the chase, never being one for preamble and hoping the directness of topic would lead to a quicker visit. Dumbledore dunked another biscuit in his tea waiting for it to soften sufficiently before consuming it. Severus sighed, “He has much of the same arrogance his father possessed. He makes little or no effort, and expects me to congratulate him for being merely the ‘boy-who-lived’”

 

Merely the boy who lived…” Dumbledore trailed off quietly to himself. Severus’ jaw flexed but he said nothing.

 

“It seems to me,” Dumbledore now spoke “that living is quite a difficult thing to do Severus, and a nearly impossible thing to do right. Unfortunately we must feel, ceaselessly, if we are subject to living. We must be left to sort through constant turmoil and pain. We are prey to the inevitable, and oftentimes inexcusable, wrongs that will be committed against us without our ability or knowledge to prevent them from happening. Yes indeed. It seems to me, that continuing to feel after a life of such circumstances and to continue to live despite the pain and wrong others have caused us, is in fact a great feat indeed…one I unfortunately can’t dismiss as quickly as some.”

 

Dumbledore stood up at this and silently moved towards the door. When he got there he paused and tilted his head ever so slightly back towards a still Severus. In quiet tones he added, “I have watched many a dark-haired boy turn themselves into mighty men over the lengthy course of my career. All of whom have been talented beyond measure, all of them with their own sets of challenges to overcome, all of whom I care very deeply for…I would appreciate it, Severus, if you could remember that whilst in my company, and not slight the men I have grown to care for so much.” With that Dumbledore turned and proceeded down the hallway, fishing a Sherbert Lemon out of his pocket as he went.

 

Severus long sat in silence in the dank confines of his dungeon chamber. An uncertain amount of time later his eyes fell upon the splattered contents of the broken jar.

“Reparo,” he muttered. The ruins reunited in midair, reforming the seamless glass from its broken shards.

 

 

 

A/N: Whenever I start writing a story, I never really know where it’s going to go, the characters usually speak for themselves and give the piece life. This is one of those many occasions. What I really liked about writing this is that Dumbledore is referring to Harry, James, Severus, Sirius, and even Tom Riddle in his description of his dark headed boys. Past memories have to be laid to rest in the past where they belong on all of their accounts. We can’t be bitter or fickle about the future, we have to move on and grow despite our past mistakes, incomprehensible circumstances, or hard feelings.

 

Disclaimer: Clearly I am nowhere near brilliant enough to invent characters like Dumbledore, or a place like Hogwarts. So incase you thought this world belonged to me suffice to say you were suffering from temporary insanity.

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