Severus Snape is tired of the lies. (fortiscadere) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-05-26 09:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-05] may, agnes o'hare, severus snape |
RP Log: Severus Snape & Agnes O'Hare
Who: Severus Snape & Agnes O'Hare
Where: Hog's Head, Hosgmeade
When: Monday, 26 May 1979, afternoon
What: Not yelling at each other :o
Status: Complete
Rating: G
Agnes had taken quite nicely to her job as 'bar wench' - or, if she were to indulge in her more feminist sensibilities: 'server' - and though the natives seemed a bit put out at her irritatingly persistent lack of grumpiness, she never faltered, dishing out as much sass as she got and enjoying every second of it. This was hard work - something she hadn't been able to do for too long because of the damned death eaters - and by Merlin she was loving every second. Late afternoon meant there was a pleasant lull between the lunch 'crowd' and the evening 'crowd' (though crowd was a bit of a stretch, since it was more like clumps of undesirables minding their own business) and Agnes filled it with scrubbing the tables. She wasn't convinced that Aberforth actually liked things at the level of cleanliness that she was inflicting upon his establishment, but she figured it wouldn't be long before it was dirtied up again. And there was something nice in not using magic to do it - something homey, something natural (though she did use magic to clean the bucket of sudsy water she was hauling around). The creak of the door was the only distraction, and she glanced up, a bit blinded by the sudden introduction of sunlight into the dingy inner walls. There were certain potions ingredients that were only available in Hogsmeade and Severus had been given instructions from his Potion Master to stock the supply cupboards with anything that was missing. As this gave the opportunity both for him to look at potions ingredients that were missing and those that were not, and the opportunity to see a bit of Wizarding society, Severus typically enjoyed these sorts of missions. This afternoon he'd been able to easily find all but one of the missing ingredients and the apothecary had promised the missing one would be placed on order. Had it been anything else, Severus might have attempted a trip to Diagon Alley to see if they had it stocked there, but with this particular herb, he knew it was a waste of time. His ingredients packaged, he made his way through the streets, passing the noise of the Three Broomsticks, and heading towards the Hogs Head. Given the opportunity between loud patrons who tended to get in everyone's business, and grouchy patrons that minded their own while minding yours, he'd take the latter. The door creaked as he opened it and stepped into the darkened interior. He closed the door behind him, and stepped into the bar, his eyes adjusting to the lower light inside. It was he stepped towards the bar that he saw Agnes O'Hare standing there, looking every bit as if she were working there. He stopped in his tracks, half wanting to turn around and exit the establishment, but he could think of no reasonable excuse to do so. It would appear as if he were leaving because he'd seen her and all things considered, that would be extremely rude. It would certainly label him under the category of prat, not that he was unused to the category. Uncertain whether to approach her or go to the bar, he stood momentarily in the center of the room as if he'd been rendered unable to move himself. Agnes didn't seem remotely startled to see Severus standing there, though she was a bit curious why he'd stopped dead in the center of the bar like he'd had a seizure or something. Raising an eyebrow, she slogged the wet cloth back into the bucket from whence it had come and wiped her hands off on her skirt. "Hi Severus!" Maybe if she said his name he'd stop looking as though hell had just frozen over, or at the very least take a step in some direction. "You okay, mate?" Not that, even in this short amount of time working, she hadn't had her fair share of rude customers: customers that growled and barked and gestured like she was an idiot because she was female or small or human. But Agnes had spent a damn long time helping out in her father's pub, and she could take a little rudeness. Severus didn't seem rude, though, he seemed ... well ... ill. And it struck her suddenly that it might have been about his mother. Ugh, she hoped he didn't get all poncey on her about sending Mrs. Snape money. It was the right thing to do and Severus should, really, know better by now than to try and talk Agnes out of what she knew to be right. And she didn't give that bloody money to him anyway. But what if his mum hadn't wanted it? What if she was angry? Was that why he was here? No, that was stupid, no one knew where she worked except the order. Faced with a flurry of half-paranoid thoughts, Agnes crooked her chin forward, a nonverbal well? to help him along. Severus shook his head suddenly and realised that he needed to actually move. Since she'd said hello to him, it seemed impossible for him to not go and speak with her. Squaring his shoulders he walked towards her, feeling remarkably ill at ease. He knew that he told Agnes more than he should tell anyone he knew so little about. Well, not precisely so little about. He actually had a feeling he knew more about Agnes than he did a number of his own friends. He knew whom she was shagging (at least sometimes) and when she was in jail, what her opinion on this was or that was, and she'd told him off on more than one occasion. All things considered, she was not a complete stranger to him, but he still felt as though he shouldn't tell her the things he told her, and telling her about their financial situation? That had been one of those things. Severus didn't talk about that, not with anyone. Even Astra, whom had a fairly clear idea of how things were now that she'd visited his house, he didn't actually discuss the matter with. It was unseemly to call attention to, or to play the card of how hard his life was. Still, somehow he'd managed to tell that to Agnes, and she'd gone and sent them money and Severus hated feeling as if they were a charity case. Particularly to someone whom he was pretty certain didn't have that much more of her own. "What? fine," he answered her question with clipped tones. Did he mention it? Did he not mention it? It wasn't as if he wanted to keep it or to say thank you for it - because that would mean he was keeping it - but he felt it ridiculous to not mention it somehow. "You?" He asked her, buying for time. "Are you working here?" Agnes gave him a smile as he finally came forward, the sort of natural and free style that made very little sense in these kinds of surroundings - and with this sort of company. Half her friends were convinced that Severus was a death eater, and Agnes still hadn't come to a full conclusion on the matter. Lily didn't think he was - and Lily's opinion meant a lot to Agnes - and Severus cared about his mother a great deal. Were death eaters capable of caring like that? He was so twisted up and self-contained that she had trouble sorting this from that, and though he was more open with her than he was with a great many people, Agnes had no way of knowing how deeply she'd gotten beneath his skin. But she desired to give him the benefit of the doubt, if only because she hoped very much that he was not a death eater, and so thought there was no reason not to be kind to him. She wasn't a typically unkind person so it wasn't an especial stretch for her to be nice to Severus - especially since she thought he was 'all right' when he wasn't being a complete prat. Same with Sirius, really. "I'm alright. A little sad still, but you know... Gettin' over it. Work's helpin'." Honest to a fault, and she didn't see it as especially dangerous to share her feelings openly. It was harder to pretend one way or another - she'd get confused in the lies. "Yeah, Mr Dumbledore gave me a job, even though I ain't proper trained for it. Got some experience. He was real nice about it." She swept a few scraps off the terminally dirty counter and set out a glass. "Can I get y'somethin'?" Severus laid his packages down on the counter and sat down reluctantly. There really wasn't any way to go elsewhere at least not until the matter of the Owl he'd received from her had been dealt with. "Right, it takes a bit," he said hesitantly. "I mean, to get over the sad." In reality, Severus hadn't been particularly sad about his father's death. Guilty, yes. Particularly when it had created such a drastic change in his mother's personality, but not sad. He glanced around at the surroundings and then looked back at Agnes. To say she didn't fit in here was an extreme understatement. It was like putting a daisy in the middle of polyjuice potion - one bright and cheerful, the other sludge like and not a particularly pleasant color. He shook his head, what was she doing here? Perhaps it was safer for her here than elsewhere. Severus knew that Headmaster Dumbledore was a force to be reckoned with, and he couldn't imagine that his brother wasn't the same. Perhaps Agnes had finally done something smart, or at least reasonable, for a change. "Look, Agnes," he said softly, it was better off to just deal with the question, wasn't it? "I, you can't, I mean, I can't accept your money. I didn't mention that to make you feel sorry for us. I don't need your pity," he added, his voice sounding a bit more bitter than he intended for it to sound. "I work hard, and we manage. We get by." Agnes nodded. She hadn't expected to be cured in a week of her grief, but it seemed to be taking much longer than she liked. That was one of the reasons she really loved working here. It was a bit dirty (or earthy, as she'd explained to Marlene), and the patrons were hard shells to crack, but it was busywork - and Abe was good company when things got rough. Not nearly as tetchy as everybody seemed to think. Well, mostly. Severus finally broached the topic Agnes hoped he wouldn't, and she was a little annoyed that he hadn't ordered anything, because it made it difficult to ignore him in favor of doing her job. Why couldn't he have just taken it with the kind of good grace she was used to in the communes? There nobody questioned giving and taking, it was just part of life. Just a part of her life. "Don't be a prat," she replied, retrieving her rag and wiping it inattentively across the bar counter. "Your mum needs it more'n I do - ain't that good enough reason?" Severus looked at her, his eyebrows drawn together in frustration. He couldn't argue that his mother needed it, but he wasn't certain about her needing it more than Agnes did, and even if it was true, every cell in his body screamed against it. It was charity. And he and his family might have been poor, but one thing he'd learned from his father (although Severus would never admit it came from Tobias) was stubborn pride and he didn't go asking for help. By even sharing the information with Agnes that he'd shared with her, he'd gone against everything he'd always prided himself on. You didn't complain. You didn't ask for handouts, and you certainly didn't give people reasons to feel sorry for you. And in polite company, if someone did do one of the don'ts, you simply ignored it and moved to another topic of conversation. "I'm not being a prat," he protested. "It's just that I didn't ask for it, and I don't want you thinking that I was asking for anything. Because I wasn't." As much as Agnes did not desire to twist Severus's knickers up into an inconsolable knot, she was not going relent on this one. His mum would get every paycheck Agnes managed to get before flaking out on the job. Possibly even after that. It wasn't like she needed it - she really didn't! Aberforth fed and housed her, and she got her weed from Stubby. What else was there? And charity? Charity was something good people did for other people, regardless of whether it was asked or not. And, dammit, Agnes greatly desired to reach across the bench and smack Severus upside the head (though she didn't think Aberforth would approve of that line of customer service), because it was a damned sin to let pride keep those you loved miserable. "Yeah, you are. I know you didn't ask for nothin'. You think you gotta be a pathetic charity case for me to share somma what's mine to someone what needs it? S'called bein' a member of the human race, Severus. Your mum needs it more, and you tellin' me you ain't well off ain't the bloody apocalypse. It's like..." she tried to contemplate a phrasing that his hard Slytherin head would comprehend. "It's like problem solvin'. You alerted me to a problem, an' I'm doin' my part to solve it. What's so wrong with that?" Severus had known she would be ridiculous. She was a bloody Gryffindor, what else was he expecting. He took a deep breath trying to remain calm although the desire to hang her up by her ankles was fairly strong. If she was working here, he didn't fancy having Dumbledore come out and turn him up by his ankles, and he wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't the way the old man dealt with bar fights. "It's not your problem to solve," he said, trying to keep his voice calm and rational. "It's... you're not family, you're not even really my friend," Severus tried to think whose problem it might be to solve. "Hell, Agnes, I wouldn't even allow my friends to send me money by owl. It's not... it's not proper." And that, outside of the pride, was what it boiled down to. Severus had spent most of his adult life trying to convince himself that he could learn society's rules as well as anyone who had been born into them. Not for the sake of the rules, but because the rules were what you learned to be able to play a part, and the part was someone who was a useful, productive member of society. Astra coming and reading to his mother was perfectly acceptable by any set of rules. Receiving money from a - well even from an acquaintance - really didn't fall into the acceptable category, so far as he could tell. One eyebrow crooked upward, and Agnes gave Severus a look. "Are you takin' the bloody mickey?" She intoned, hand frozen over the rag, which was doing a better job of smudging around dirt at this point than picking it up. "Does I look proper to you?" She really hoped the answer was no, otherwise she really might have to reach across and thump him in the temple. What gave him the right to tell her she couldn't help out his mum. "Ain't you bein' a little selfish right now, Severus? It ain't as if I gave you the money, since you's so damned stubborn you'd probably starve t'death on the street 'fore taking help from nobody. And that's what it is, by the way, help," she pointed a finger at him and ignored the glance of the regulars from the corner. They liked watching Agnes tell people off. She was so tiny that it reached a level of absurdity the theater couldn't quite match. "I gave that money to your mum, and it'd do her more good than it'd do me. And I don't give a flying twat 'bout propriety cuz I ain't wearin' fancy clothes or talkin' like a hoity toity ponce last I checked. It's about your mum needin' and me not needin'. You ain't even in the equation, bucko." Severus blinked. What did 'bucko' even mean? Half the time he wasn't certain she was speaking any form of English that he recognized. The other half he did recognize it and it drove him nuts because it sounded like his father. And now people were beginning to stare. Just take the damn money, Severus he told himself, as he looked at the regulars out of the corner of his eye. It'll be easier in the long run. "Fine," he said quickly. "Look. Fine. Just don't be so bloody loud, all right?" He glanced again at the corners. It was bad enough to have her sending his mother money, it was twice as bad to have the entire Hogs Head know that she was sending his Mum money because he couldn't provide for her himself. "I'll buy Mum something, food or whatever. Just don't tell the entire world I'm incapable of taking care of her myself. And please get me a firewhiskey." Give her a job, that should shut her up and put her back on task, and at this point, Sev could feel a bit of a headache coming on, and the mild butterbeer he'd been considering, seemed remarkably inadequate at this point in time. "Tch, they ain't listenin', keep your trousers on." Agnes shook her head. Severus baffled the hell out of her, but she wasn't actually trying to embarrass him, so she took her voice down a few notches and turned up to look at the shelves above her. Agnes was painfully short compared to Aberforth, and she literally had to use a stool to reach half the things behind the counter. Firewhiskey it was, though as she poured it into a short glass for him, she fixed a firm stare on him. "Don't go drinkin' and apparatin' now." That's all she needed - guilt from Severus splinching himself because he couldn't handle a little bit of kindness. See, that was what she didn't get. How could someone complain about people being mean to him all the time and then turn around and complain about a kindness? Damned Slytherins. Crafty bastards, but understanding of the human soul they were not. "And Severus." She flopped off the leg of the stool and stood before him, all not-quite-five-feet of her. "You ain't incapable of nothin'. I just ain't got a mum anymore, yeah? So let me, like. You know." Agnes gestured vaguely, feeling a hitch in her throat that hadn't been there a few seconds ago. "Just shut up about it." The welling in her eyes tamed. "That's three sickles." Severus took the glass and took a sip of the whiskey but then glanced up at her quickly. Now she was going and making him feel guilty. How could she do that to him? It seriously made him want to smack her. It was like one moment she was infuriating him and he was ready to lose his temper with her, and the next moment he felt as if all of her accusations were correct and he was absolutely the worst prat to walk the face of the earth. And then she had to go and bring up her Mum. Another person whom Severus had been indirectly responsible for her death. He reached into his pocket and pulled out four sickles and laid them on the counter. "Look," he hated feeling as if he owed anyone anything, but with the mention of her mother, Agnes had made him feel as if he absolutely owed her this. The money had nothing to do with him anymore, and everything to do with him allowing Agnes to do something that made her feel better. And since he had indirectly caused her pain, clearly he needed to allow her this one thing since it helped ease it. It was complicated enough to make Sev's head pound, and he wondered what he had done to so completely complicate his life. For a moment he wished he could just outright tell her he was a Death Eater. She'd hate him, they'd yell, he could actually hex her - so long as Dumbledore wasn't around - and that would be that. She'd never speak to him again, but of course that wouldn't be a problem as the Aurors would probably stick him in Azkaban, assuming one of his colleagues didn't kill him first. Clearly, that simplification would only complicate things further. "So long as you don't need it," he said finally. "And only what you don't need," he stretched his neck and took another sip. "And I'm only using it for Mum. And if your situation changes and you need it, you don't send it." He hated this entire circumstance. Every fiber in his body protested against it. "And thanks," he said finally, so quietly that had any other noise occurred when he spoke, Agnes would probably not have caught it. A smile spread across her face (oh he would probably hate that, that she dared to be happy in the face of his obvious agony at accepting 'charity' or whatever), but Agnes was not about suppressing emotions and so it spread wide and genuine into her squirrelly cheeks. "Good!" She announced, tossing the rag back into the bucket, as though this action was symbolic of something (though she wasn't entirely sure what). It did make her feel better - much in fact. And though she would never admit it, she had felt horrible for Severus when he'd mentioned how poor his mum was. After all, she had so many people around to make her abject poverty worth living in - who did Severus's mum have besides Severus? Didn't she deserve something better? Agnes thought so. After gathering up the sickles and assuring herself that Severus was holding onto the glass of whiskey (if his hands were full, she figured he couldn't fend her off as easily), Agnes came round the end of the bar. She didn't wait for him to adjust to these new circumstances, but walked up and gave him a very genuine sort of hug. It was easier for both of them than 'you're welcome' - Severus seemed like he might have a conniption were she to acknowledge his thank you. She only hoped he didn't elbow her in the gut before she had a chance to let go. Severus had not been so startled in a very long time. When Agnes walked up to him and hugged him, he stiffened slightly. Severus didn't receive hugs from people. His mother had never been big on hugs. Lily had hugged him more than once, and she had certainly been his most recent hug, but Agnes? "I-" he began, but as he had no idea what to say to protest, he didn't say anything further. After a second or two, he pulled back slightly. "Merlin's beard, are you mad?" he asked, his tone more surprised than hostile. "I thought I was a prat," he added. Severus wasn't thinking clearly enough to determine whether or not this should have any bearing on whether he was hugged or not, but his impulse said that it should have some bearing. And as he pulled back further he stared at her somewhat incredulously. And as he pulled away enough to stare incredulously, he couldn't help but wish maybe he'd allowed himself to be hugged longer. She smelled decent, although he couldn't quite figure out what the smell was, possibly whatever drug she'd most recently gotten high on. Once again he found himself at two opposite ends where it came to Agnes O'Hare. One wanted to smack her and ask her what on earth she was thinking coming around to hug him, and the other just wanted to actually be friendly with her. She hated Death Eaters though, and he was a Death Eater, even if she didn't know it, it wasn't like they were precisely a pair that could be best mates. Even if she didn't drive him absolutely out of his mind most of the time. Agnes released him when he pulled back; she had issues with granting people the personal space they needed half the time, but it was typically out of ignorance, not malice. She didn't want to make him wholly uncomfortable - just enough to mean something, if that was possible. "Oh, you are," she replied promptly, perching upon a stool beside him instead of going back to her place behind the bar. It was almost time for her break, anyhow. Severus's lack of violence was encouraging - though he'd probably be appalled if he knew that's how she'd interpreted it. And hugging him wasn't so bad. He was a little skinny, but it was a nice sort of skinny. Gideon was skinny too, and rather nice to get her fingers on. And once those two thoughts crossed Agnes's mind in conjunction... well. "It ain't terminal, though, I don't think," she offered, and it was true: Agnes fully believed that Severus, in all his broody, moody, bitter ways, could become something better. Something kinder and more outgoing. She didn't expect him to want it or even strive for it, but a little love in his life - that was, kindness and generosity and good thoughts - would likely vastly improve his temperament. And his karma. "I ain't got any diseases, don't worry." A wry little smile stained her otherwise genuine face, but it spilled away soon enough. Severus had expected her to be more annoyed with him for pulling back, but it seemed she'd been expecting that. Probably because he was a prat. He glanced over at her as he drank more of the firewhiskey. She hadn't gone back around to the other side of the bar, which allowed Severus the opportunity to actually observe her. It had been quite a while since he'd actually seen Agnes in person. They'd written comments over journals, certainly, and he'd remembered her from school, but they hadn't ran in anything close to the same social circles after Hogwarts. She was pretty, he had to admit, although it was slightly grudgingly as he did so. Oh, she was no Narcissa or Astra with their porcelain skin and perfect hair, but she had nice curves, and there was something about her that neither of the other two had. It reminded him almost of Lily, which made him take another drink of the firewhiskey. Of the three women who'd had relatives killed by Death Eaters he was in love with one and apparently in some sort of weird dance with the other one. Only McKinnon did he honestly continue to dislike, mostly because he couldn't allow himself to think about his task matching up with an actual human being. It was easier if she was the personification of the enemy, rather than a human being. "I wouldn't be so sure," he responded. If he wasn't a prat, he was a liar, and although he understood the reasons for it, he wasn't certain he liked it. He shook his mind clear of the memories. There was nothing he could do about it, in fact, even about being a Death Eater. It wasn't something one changed out of, like one would a cloak one was tired of. Maybe if he'd known that a year ago... and maybe not. He looked over at her again, and studied her face. Smiles were rare in Sev's world and seemed to mostly come from the few women he came into contact with who were not Death Eaters, and not his Mother. He wouldn't consider any facial expression for Alecto, Bellatrix, or Georgina to be a true smile, no matter how upturned the corners of their lips were. Agnes smile had been genuine. And he almost wanted to see it again. "Do you want something?" he asked, motioning towards the bar. "I know you're working, but if you want something, I'll get it." Agnes shook her head. Typical prat thing to say, but it brought another grin to her lips - full teeth this time, bunched up cheeks and everything. She liked Severus when he wasn't being all shrake-like. It was almost (almost, but not quite) like his spines were deflating a bit, and that thrilled Agnes muchly. She cared about people, almost painfully sometimes, and whether Severus wanted to admit it or not, he was a person. She cared about him, she cared about his mum, and though she would have been horrified at learning he really was a death eater, the possibility wasn't enough for her to shun him utterly. She'd ragged on him through the journals because, honestly, she thought he could do better. She thought he could care more, speak more, fight more. Even if he didn't respond immediately, no one was a lost cause in her opinion. She glanced back at the bar, almost stunned by the offer - Severus Snape, offering to get her something? Was this crazy day? "I was thinkin' of having a sandwich. I can get two while I'm back there, yeah? I mean. If you ain't gonna run away while I'm gone." When had she gotten awkward at talking to people? "What I'm sayin' is if you got time, we can have supper. Catch up and the like." She wasn't typically nervous about asking things. Rejection happened. She'd been rejected before and been fine. Perhaps it was something in the nature of asking Severus for dinner - something about desiring strongly to see a more human side to him - that made rejection a bit less palatable. Oh well! She'd thrown it out there. He could grouchily refuse if he liked. She'd smiled, and he wasn't even certain what he'd said that had made her smile, but it made him almost smile. Or at least, the right corner of his mouth turned up slightly in a half smirk. When she wasn't driving him up the wall, he almost liked her and that was a bit nutters. "Oh," he glanced at her startled at her invitation. He took a moment to respond further, torn between telling her that she'd handed out enough to him, and simply graciously accepting. What had she told him the other day in the journals? Pointing out where his friends had been horrible to people, and somewhere in that, he thought she'd been trying to tell him that nice-ness followed nice-ness. He wasn't certain he one hundred percent believed her. He was pretty certain, for instance, that he could be nice to Black until he grew old, shriveled, and lost all of his hair and the only thing that would happen would be that Black would start mocking him for not having any hair rather than for it being greasy. The first impulse to tell her no, he didn't need more handouts was fiercely strong, but if he did that, he'd need to leave. Or at least, he'd end whatever conversation they had been having. And he stupidly didn't want it to end. His eyes were as guarded as his response, when he finally answered. "Maybe." Severus honestly made Agnes want to laugh. She was so used to people being blatantly open and punching each other in the nose when they were annoying and getting drunk together when they were not that his guardedness was almost refreshing. Her smile twisted down until her teeth were not showing, and it was an almost bemused expression, if Agnes was capable of such a thing. "Well then..." with a tilt of her head she considered her companion a minute. "What sorta sandwich wouldja maybe like, assuming you're still here when I get back?" Her dimples began to show as she struggled not to laugh. Agnes had far too much emotion inside her for one person - it was a bit amazing how she managed not to explode. Severus looked at her, and tried to glare. He truly did, but the most he managed was a slightly constipated looking smirk. He couldn't understand someone like Agnes. Everything seemed to garner some sort of large emotion from her, and while Severus was used to emotions, he certainly had them - possibly more than most people would believe - he wasn't used to seeing them. Not from himself and not from others around him. "I'm not picky," he said truthfully. "Whatever you maybe bring me," he added, his voice full of dry amusement. "If I'm here when you get back, I'll eat what you bring me. Assuming it hasn't been tainted with one of your Hallucinogens." He took another sip of the firewhiskey. "Oh, and assuming I can buy you a drink," he added. "If you're bringing me a sandwich it's only fair, I get to buy you a drink." He pointed out. Agnes's eyes shot up. Oh right, Severus's drugophobia. "For your information, darlin', weed ain't a hallucinogen. Acid is a hallucinogen, and I don't go around puttin that into peoples' food." Weed, however -- but she couldn't think of Regulus or she'd start laughing and never stop. "I ain't tryin to drug you or nothin', just tryin' to be friendly." It wasn't that horrific of a concept, though she had the feeling Severus wouldn't agree - or if he did that he was more used to the sort of 'friends' who didn't do nice things for each other out of the goodness of their hearts. Typical Slytherins. Typical. "And if you's here when I get back, I'll have a butterbeer, please and thanks." She smiled up at Aberforth, who'd come out to serve the bar as her break began. A firewhiskey would definitely not get her through the evening shift - not at her size. "Be right back." Severus reached into his pocket to hand the proper coinage over to Dumbledore. Severus wondered if there was someplace they could talk where Dumbledore wouldn't be directly overhearing them the entire time. Frankly, Agnes was embarrassing and Sev wasn't convinced that he wanted Aberforth to have front row tickets to him being embarrassed. On the other hand, he wasn't certain where they would go. There were tables, and he contemplated simply getting up and moving to one of them. In the end he waited. when Agnes came out he thought, he might suggest it. As much as he wanted to stay, he was still half tempted to just leave, but at this point Aberforth had heard their entire exchange, and he really would come across as a prat if he left. Plus he hadn't eaten much - or for several hours and the sandwich did sound good. He stayed put. Agnes returned bearing a couple vegetarian sandwiches on a wide platter and bowl of steaming something that looked especially unappetizing. Moving past the bar, she gestured with her head toward a table in the corner, though she didn't head immediately toward it. "Don't complain none! Least you's gettin' fed." Her voice rang out from beside a group of hags, between whom she put down the bowl. It was obvious from her face that she didn't approve of whatever was in it, but she was quick enough away from the offensiveness and back toward the table she suggested that they probably hadn't even noticed. Two cheese sandwiches, garnished with more vegetables than Agnes had had access to in a long time. Delicious. "Try it, you'll like it." A rather weighty presumption. Severus had picked up his packages and his glass and Agnes's and followed her towards the table. At the table, he slid the packages under his chair and gave her the butterbeer she'd requested, while placing the glass with what was left of his firewhiskey in front of him. Severus smirked slightly realising it was probably a good thing he wasn't a picky eater. There were a number of things on the sandwich he knew people who wouldn't have liked them, but he truly wasn't a picky eater. Food, when it came ones direction, was to be eaten, and without very many complaints. And to be honest, he didn't get vegetables as often as he'd like to. "Maybe," he said wryly, but the tone had humour, and he picked up the sandwich to take a bite of it. They were good. Catch up, she'd said, although Severus didn't know exactly what they were catching up on. There was so much of his life he couldn't tell her about, even had he wanted to tell her about it. I mean, one didn't run up to an old school mate and say 'I've been killing your friends' parents, what have you been up to?' "How'd you end up here," he asked finally. The disconnect between her and the surrounding pub was huge. Agnes ripped off some of the sandwich and shoved it in her mouth. She was less high for work than she was on a regular basis and she'd been drugged up so long she rarely felt any untoward hunger anymore, but it'd been about six hours since her last meal and she was not about to eat demurely for Severus's sake. Sipping down some butterbeer, she considered him. Humor. That was a good start. Severus didn't really seem like the type to joke or laugh but maybe he was capable of it once in a while. "Got out of the knick, right?" She swallowed and ripped off another bit of sandwich - though she had the courtesy not to shove it instantly into her mouth and try to muffle through it. "Need somewheres to go where I ain't gonna get killed or get my friends killed. Or my family killed." She gestured around with the piece of bread before rapidly consuming it. "Seemed like the only place to go. I ain't exactly hidin', but I'm trying to stay outta the way of respectable folks." You know, the folks trying to kill her. Severus regarded her as he took another bit of the sandwich she'd made him. He'd been right at least on this being a safer place, and on her actually choosing the reasonable decision to try to stay safe. He approved of that, at least. O'Hare might drive him nuts, but he didn't have a death wish for her and it was nice to see she didn't have one on herself either, when it came down to it. He felt like her emphasis on 'respectable' was a jab at him. "I'd say you should find that fairly easy to do here," he finally said in response to her statement. The pub was certainly not brimming with respectability - that had never been its drawing point. "But that's good," he added. "I don't understand you half - no, most of the time, but I also don't much fancy seeing you getting yourself killed either." Severus put the sandwich down and pushed hair behind his ears. It stayed put, sticking rather limply to the side of his head in a way that would have likely garnered a commentary on greasy git from certain of Agnes' friends. "It seems like a good place. I mean, if you want to be safe." He glanced over at Aberforth almost unconsciously. He'd never met the man in a duel, and he didn't much fancy doing so: Not at this point in his experience at any rate. "Nobody would look for you here." And he was pretty certain that was the truth. "Do you like it here?" He looked over at her, genuinely curious, although it also seemed like a good idea to keep her talking. If she talked, he didn't have to, and one thing he felt very confident in was Agnes ability to keep talking. He simply couldn't imagine Agnes enjoying serving alcohol or food to people like the hags she'd delivered whatever was in the bowl to before they'd sat down. Did she have friends come by? It was possibly getting into information that might have proven quite useful to the Death Eaters, but Severus had no real intention of delivering it anywhere. Agnes chewed thoughtfully, thankful she'd made these rather large sandwiches. She was hungrier than she thought, and it made talking to Severus a little less awkward - she felt like she needed something in her hands at all times to stave off the nervous energy he seemed to project. 'Respectable' had been a bit of a jab, but she couldn't help thinking he'd be a lot better off if he stopped running from his past - from his working class past. Unlike Agnes, who embraced all things lower class - with the possible exception of Mundungus Fletcher - Severus seemed ashamed of his roots. It irritated her to no end, especially since she doubted these privileged assholes he spent time with truly valued him at all. They'd had a lot of tension with respect to those differing ideals, and so Agnes was startled by his statement that he didn't fancy seeing her killed. It showed on her face, like everything else seemed to, and then her expression softened. Severus wasn't that bad of a bloke, really. Sure, he and Sirius were complete pricks when in the vicinity of one another, but Agnes didn't waste her energy trying to make people get along who simply never would. Lily trusted him and in this small space of time Agnes could sort of see why. "Hope not," she trailed, sipping some butterbeer to stall before answering his last question. Did she like it here? She loved Aberforth. She loved being able to make a few coins to give away to those who needed it. But did she like it? "No, not really." She finally replied, bluntness tempered by a tiny smile that burrowed into the corner of her lips. "I ain't much for a steady job and." And? "And I'd rather be back home. Back at the commune. But I ain't goin' back there. Too many people get hurt what don't deserve it." Her lips pressed tight together. "Don't matter, though. Keepin' busy. Gettin' through. Dunno how to fight this war without gettin' people I care about in trouble." And that was the crux of her recent frustration. Agnes held up quite a front, but underneath it all was this lingering melancholy. How was she supposed to speak out? How was she supposed to argue and fight? She couldn't lose any more family members. Not for this. "You's workin' with potions now, right?" Severus felt like he should say something about the commune or about her statement that she didn't really like it here, but he wasn't certain what to say. He had no advice on how to fight the war - not really. Eventually he knew that if you were loud, you'd get paid attention to, and it seemed like the new de facto plan of the Death Eaters was to wipe out people close to the rebels. Frankly, Severus felt it would be better to actually shut up those who were loud, and not worry about the incidentals, but nobody had asked him, had they? Potions. Potions were a safe topic and one Severus could go on and on about. He nodded quickly, and took another sip of the firewhiskey. Having calmed down a bit, he was almost wishing he had gone for the butterbeer instead, but he supposed one whiskey would not turn him into his father. "Yes," he nodded. "I'm working with Master Augustus James. He's brilliant," Severus' respect for his Master was obvious. "I feel like I've learned so much already," he reached for the sandwich again. "I'm with him until November, and then he'll evaluate me to see if he's willing to keep me on for another three." Severus took a bit of the sandwich and chewed carefully. "My plan is to have the next three. If I have those, then I'll have the title of Potion Master and it'll be easy enough, or at least as possible," Severus had no illusions that the process would be easy, things were never easy. "For me to have my own apothecary. Maybe here in Hogsmeade, I haven't quite decided yet." "Maybe if you weren't so Gryffindor about it," he said suddenly. "Does everything have to be shouted from the rooftop with you lot? There are other ways of protesting that are no doubt equally effective, but less likely to make you a target." At least initially. Agnes set her sandwich down and picked at it somewhat in between swills of butterbeer. First, the top layer. It was coated in mayonnaise and some sort of cheese spread, and she munched on it happily while listening to him chat about potions. It was so bizarre having a conversation with Severus; he was always so serious about everything. Not that she'd been incredibly humorous thus far, but listening to him talk (and she was more listening to the how than the what) struck in her a chord of something between bemusement and pity. Poor Severus. Hadn't been properly socialized, maybe. Needed more friends? "That'd be brill," she murmured around a bite of bread. "If this shit ever gets done with, I might go take over some of my Mum's business. Herbs and the like." More butterbeer. This was actually quite pleasant. Was being the key word, there. She'd barely swallowed down a mouthful of beer when Severus went there. Gryffindor about it? He was lucky she preferred silence over choking, or he would have gotten an earful within seconds. "Yeah? Like what exactly?" She demanded, attempting to suppress the scathing undercurrent of her anger. Like sitting around and caring more about your job than what is going around you? Severus glanced at her uneasily. He should have known better than to say anything. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't believe you have to be calling people out in journals and creating a nuisance of yourself to make a statement. There are other ways to do it." He had a feeling he wasn't helping his case at all. The statement hadn't really been thought through and he should have known that she'd take offense at it. "And maybe even better ways," he added. "I mean, if you're quiet, you could be fighting in ways you could never fight if you were noticed. You can go places you couldn't go if you were noticed. I don't think it makes your contribution less important either, it just means you actually get something accomplished without putting everyone you love in danger, that's all I was trying to say." And frankly, Severus wished that Potter and Black would realise this. Lily, he knew could be fairly reasonable. She had her opinions and while they were known, she didn't antagonize people with them. Of course it hadn't helped her parents, had it? But then, that had likely been more about her blood than anything else. If her parents hadn't been Muggles, if they'd been purebloods, would she have been the target of choice? Severus thought probably not. Oh, eventually, but not straight up. He picked a piece of lettuce off of the sandwich and tore it in half before discarding them on the plate. How could he even make suggestions? He was on the opposite side of this war, and sometimes he felt it would be easier if he were just upfront about it. Agnes pressed a piece of cheese into her mouth and chewed it, carefully, before swallowing. "Yeah, actually you're right," she admitted. "I know I ain't made the best decisions..." that was an understatement. She'd almost been killed three times. Half her family - more than half now - were dead. Fuck. It settled like a stone at the bottom of her stomach, and though Agnes consoled herself with the knowledge that her parents and grandparents would have preferred to go out fighting than die slaves, it didn't entirely ease the guilt. "You're right." She shrugged and sipped her butterbeer, holding it against her chest as though it might ease some of the pain there - as if it were a shield against ... all of this. "But what am I gonna do to fight, Sev? Severus." She corrected herself abruptly, picking at her bread with a finger. "Nobody says nothin' against these people. The papers is full of cryin' over the Diagon attack, then they goes and praises all these purist bastards. All these shops with signs in theys windows? It ain't right. It don't feel right to sit and be quiet about it. People's dyin'. It ain't right." And that was the crux of it. Agnes didn't have a logical basis of operation here, she just did what she knew in her gut to be correct. It wasn't as if she could admit the other half to Severus - the part where she went in and fought off death eaters whenever possible; and it wasn't as if the death eaters didn't know she was doing that too - all they had to do was bloody look at her. "I dunno." Severus wasn't certain which was more startling, the fact that she'd just agreed with him so easily, or the fact that she'd used a nickname, albeit accidentally - it appeared - but the fact that she was considering it at all made Severus realised that she maybe didn't hate him. Of course she didn't know the truth about him, and if she did, she'd hate him, but in the meantime it was nice to pretend that she wouldn't hate him. "Look, I can't tell you what to do," he said shifting slightly in his seat. "I don't know what to do myself half the time," and there was more truth in that than Severus wanted to admit. When Lily's parents names had come up, what had he done? Nothing. And in his heart, in his soul, Severus knew that was wrong. He could argue morals and shades of grey until his throat was sore, but the truth was he knew that the right thing to do would have been to tell Lily, whatever the cost might have been. For the time being, he was trying not to think about the people who hadn't been his friends so much. Although as he looked at Agnes' face sitting across from him he felt a sudden pang of guilt. They weren't friends, exactly. When it came to the truth, they were enemies, weren't they? Fighting on opposite sides of a war? But, sitting here, eating a sandwich with her and talking about everything? It felt almost like friends. It felt like talking to Lily used to feel, before Potter and Black, and their opportunities to sit and have conversation had dwindled to the most difficult of timings. "I guess, if it were me," the irony of the statement made his lips purse together slightly before he went on. "I guess I'd think about what I'd be good at and I'd try to do that. And I don't know what that is for you, and maybe you're good at being a town crier, in which case, I don't know." He waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. "But Agnes, you can't do anything if you're dead." It was a ridiculously simple statement, but that was the crux of it wasn't it? In the end one of these sides would win, and a lot of it would depend on the numbers fighting. And if everyone standing against the Death Eaters was dead, it'd be a simple take over. A large breath soothed out whatever soul-wrinkles were left, and Agnes managed to dredge up a smile again. No point in mucking about in a bad mood was there? 'Course there wasn't. She finished up her sandwich and dusted her hands over her plate. Just a butterbeer left and she was supposed to be back on duty. "Yeah well. I don't plan on dyin' anytime soon, darlin'" - it was such an automatic response, airy and lighthearted, that it made the fact he was positing a definite possibility a bit easier to deal with. She couldn't die. None of them could. It didn't quite jive with reality, unfortunately, but it made "things" more palatable. "Guess I better figure it out soon. Death eaters is gettin' more and more powerful every day and I don't even wanna think about what the world's gonna be like if they's in power." Ugh. She remembered learning about the Great Muggle Wars from one of their crazy old Jewish neighbors. It made her sick, and she doubted the death eaters would be any kinder. "Don't trust the damned ministry a jot, neither." Severus stared at her incredulously. He didn't know how she did it. Somehow the woman managed to smile through anything and everything and even with all the pain she'd suffered over the past few weeks, she still managed a smile. He shook his head slightly. He wasn't certain if it fell under stupidity or bravery. Considering it was Agnes, there was a fair chance it was somewhere between the two. Did she realise just how much danger she was in regularly? "I know you don't plan," he started, but he then shook his head. Truthfully, he didn't want to think about it either. It was naive of her to laugh it off as if it were not something that was extremely likely, but at the moment he understood why she was doing so. Now there were two people who were fighting against the Death Eaters that Severus really didn't want to see dead. Lily might have been his first priority, but he couldn't help but hope that Agnes, with her blasted optimism, and her infuriating sense of right and wrong, might somehow make it through. It didn't make any sense. Someone like Agnes didn't fit in his world, she didn't fit in the Death Eaters world, and he wasn't certain where that left her. If there wasn't a place for her... then what would happen to her? "You'll figure something," he said. The encouragement didn't come easily, and he shifted uneasily in his chair after he said it. He finished off the last bit of his sandwich and looked at her trying to sort through a dozen things in his mind. Agnes finished down her butterbeer and gave Severus a smile over the top of it before clunking it back to the table. "That's the second nicest thing you's ever said to me, Severus Snape." She noted briskly, and her smile didn't fade. "Guess you're just a prat most of the time, not all the time." She mock-sighed, as if this admission pained her, and then returned to her chubby-cheeked good nature. "I'd best get back to work." Refraining from suggesting he tell his mother hello for her (she didn't want to give him an aneurysm the first time they'd been in a room without shouting at each other - a lot), Agnes slid to her feet and collected up his plate. "See you around sometime, yeah?" Severus couldn't help but smile. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and he looked up (just slightly) so that he could meet her eyes. "Maybe," he smirked in response to her question. But the maybe was maybe a yes. He finished off his whiskey and stood. He was quite a bit taller than her when they were standing next to each other, even though he never thought of himself as particularly tall. If he'd been a less reserved person, he would probably have been tempted to hug her again, but as it was Snape, the small smile she was getting was as good as it got when you were in a public place. "Thank you," he said softly and then he turned and picked up his potions purchases to leave. As he reached the door he turned back to take another look at Agnes. She still looked out of place, a cheery flower amongst weeds, but he was almost glad he'd ran into her. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone. |