anya_elizabeth (anya_elizabeth) wrote in 100quills, @ 2009-01-18 16:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | severus 100.4 (anya_elizabeth) |
anya_elizabeth: Immortalised (Severus Snape, G)
Title: Immortalised
Author: anya_elizabeth
Rating: G
Prompt Set: 100.4
Prompt: 036. Immortal.
Word Count: 431
Summary: Snape's unveiling.
Warnings: 100% DH-compliant :(
Notes: I am mildly fascinated by the logistics of magical paintings; this is sort of my theory. First 100quills fic!
"How does it feel to be immortalised on canvas, Headmaster?"
Paint-and-varnish Snape glared.
"Like nothing much, I'm a painting," he growled.
"I've always wondered that," said Harry, leaning against the desk to survey his installation. "Are you really Snape? Do you know everything he knows? Because then the idea of portraits becomes sort of... sinister."
"You didn't think to ask these sorts of things before commissioning me?"
"You sound like Snape," said Harry, smiling faintly.
"I am what the creators of the piece want me to be," said the painting. "What the painter and the spellcaster knew and felt about me. I appear to be a cantankerous bastard, so obviously I was well-liked."
"I appear to be a batty old man, m'boy," said Dumbledore's portrait, smiling. "I'm sure it's just the error of the artist."
"I did the spells," said Potter quietly, glancing at Dumbledore's painted face and smiling. "And you're not just a cantankerous bastard."
"I know," said the painting, equally quietly. "You've done a good job. I am... deep."
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, you are. But you're not really Snape."
"As far as I exist at all, I'm the Snape you knew, Potter," said the portrait, raising an eyebrow.
"But I didn't know him at all," said Harry. He stared at his hands.
"What were you expecting, boy? A resurrection?" snapped the painting. "I am not real. I am animated oil paint, governed entirely by external expectation. Art is always a subjective experience, and that counts especially so for me."
Harry looked thoughtfully up at the frame. He'd spent a lot of time with the artist, trying to get Snape's features perfect. The effect was startling; the hooked nose, the thin mouth twisted in a sneer, and his eyes – they had that dark, fathomless look, the one that, on real Snape, never failed to send shivers down Harry's spine.
"I think I understand," said Harry. "It's just like talking to myself, and pretending to answer back as you."
"Exactly," said painted-Snape. Harry swallowed.
"I knew that," said Harry. "Of course I did, because you can only know what I know. But that didn't stop me –"
"Hoping," said Snape. "Wishing. I'm sorry, Potter, but I'm gone. This painting exist only to prove that I will not be forgotten."
Harry looked up at the painting and smiled.
"I'm still glad to see you, even if I'm not," he said. "You deserve to be here."
Harry swallowed hard, and turned to go.
"Potter," called the painting, and Harry turned.
"Thank you," said the portrait.
Harry Potter left the Headmistress's study, and out into the world.