Aberforth Dumbledore - he knows everything (theoldgoat) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-07-31 16:00:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! [1979-07] july, aberforth dumbledore, severus snape |
Who: Aberforth Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Aknot (NPC), Marcus Rutherford (NPC)
When: 30 July 1979, evening onwards
Where: The Hog's Head
What: Aberforth and Severus have a discussion that takes an unexpected turn and then lightens up when two friends arrive
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Worse days had been had by Severus Snape, but not many, and certainly not many recently. He was angrier than he could remember being for a while. Oh, he'd been this angry when he'd been speaking with James Potter several weeks (months?) ago and had been ready to hex the back wall out, but that was the last time he had even come close. And then he'd had his friends - or so-called friends. He'd had Barty and Regulus and Aquila, and the four of them had spent the evening together. Even if Aquila did not understand him then, he had not been working against him. Severus was also dangerously close to doing something he knew he'd regret later on. Something that couldn't be taken back even if he would want to, and something that would most certainly cost him everything. And while he snapped to his brain that he did not care, he would rather be in Azkaban - it would be less painful - his brain was telling him otherwise. The timing could not have been worse. To have Aberforth Dumbledore all but tell him that he suspected him as a Death Eater and Astra telling him that she was going to be married - married - to Marius Lestrange, both before he left for dueling practise had been so distracting.
He hoped he had managed to pull himself together, and as he slammed the tea kettle onto the stove and pointed his wand at it, the charm to boil the water not spoken but rather thought, he was certain he had done so. If Aquila - arse - had been there, he might have been able to tell the difference. But Severus was pretty certain to everyone else, he had been merely competent, thorough, and serious about the practise. Yes. Serious about the practise. It was not merely a time for him to duel men he envied. Aquila's ridiculous lies. Yes, he envied Marius Lestrange, and no, he was not going to deny that the opportunity to put the other man on the end of his wand legitimately did not give him some bit of satisfaction, but it had not been about that in the beginning and it was not about it now. Thinking back on the conversation made him angry and Severus just allowed it to simmer. The anger was safer than if it did not exist. If the anger disappeared all he would have left would be the hurt and the thought of Astra in Marius Lestrange's arms: Marius Lestrange's bed. Marius Lestrange would be the one who could come home to her every night, and would he even appreciate her? He clearly loved another woman - some French idiot - and Astra would only be-- Half of him wanted to write Astra: To tell her that both would be a long time coming because Marius already loved another woman and would prefer to be with her. To beg her not to marry a man for name or blood or wealth when she could not love him.
But he could not write to Astra. In fact, he could not write in his journal tonight. If he did, he would tell Aquila precisely what he thought of him. He would tell Astra exactly what he knew of Marius Lestrange and it would only hurt her more. He would give away too much of himself to people who did not deserve it. He was above such pettiness, even if the anger threatened to cause an explosion. The tea kettle whistled, and he was startled from his thoughts. He stared at it, almost as if he had forgotten what it was for, and then with a wave of his wand it stopped, and he stared at the hot water. He did not want tea. He did not want to sit alone in a house that taunted him, with words that echoed in his head - "good for nothing freak", "Never 'mount to anything boy", "Weak. That's wha' i' is - wha' you are." - and dreams that seemed too far out of reach.
He had already messed up enough, blurting out secrets to a man he still was not certain he could trust. But then, Aberforth had said he would not tell the Aurors. He had not asked Severus to confirm or deny. The tone had not been accusatory. And above all of that was the mere fact that Severus desperately wanted to believe he could trust him: That maybe someone with enough years and experience to know something about life actually thought he might be worth something. Aberforth had said he wanted Severus' friendship. He wanted to believe he could trust him - perhaps more importantly, he needed to be able to trust someone right now. And Aberforth was the only person he could think of who was not likely to smack him down if he knew that Severus had loved a girl far above his social status. And if the man already guessed he was a Death Eater...? Short of telling actual secrets to him, what else could Severus do that would get him in more trouble?
He checked on his mother. Eileen Snape was sleeping, as she seemed so often to be doing these days, and Severus pulled the door closed, carefully so not to wake her. The traveling cloak was on the chair, he picked up both that and his journal, and took the Floo network to the Hog's Head. He stepped out of the fireplace, shaking the cloak carefully, and glanced around for Aberforth. Seeing him at the bar and Severus walked over towards him, and as he reached it, he laid his journal on the bar in front of the older wizard. "Last time I was here, I was embarrassingly drunk and you took this away so I couldn't do anything stupid. Right now, I'm not drunk - I might like to be, but I'm not - but I'd still like you to keep it so I can't do anything stupid. I don't know that I can trust you, but I don't feel like you're being dishonest with me, and right now that's the best I've got."
Aberforth had been running the pub that night with only half his thoughts on what he was doing. The other half was on the conversation he'd had with Severus in his journal. It had taken a turn he hadn't quite expected, mostly through his own doing and he still hadn't worked out whether he'd done the right thing. If he'd pushed too hard too fast, he might well have pushed Severus away. He would regret that for more than just the lost opportunity to retrieve someone from the Death Eaters. He'd meant what he'd said about Severus being a potential friend. The young man was smart, inquisitive, asked some damn good questions and he'd detected something of a sardonic streak in everything he'd seen from the young man. Those were all things he liked.
The floo in the fireplace flared green and Aberforth glanced over. An eyebrow went up when he saw who it was and he waited while Severus shook out his cloak and walked over to the bar. He kept his expression neutral even as Severus' words raised an intense curiosity within him. It was one of the few things he had in common with his brother - curiosity. The only difference was that Albus tended to turn to a book to find his answers whereas Aberforth tended to try and find the answer in life.
He nodded when Severus finished talking and picked up the journal. "I need to earn your trust. That is something I can respect," he said calmly. "I can promise you one thing though. I won't lie to you. I may not always tell you everything but if you call me on it, I'll admit that and give you a reason why. I can't guarantee you'll like that reason but it'll at least be a reason."
He turned away and placed the journal in the lockbox he kept underneath the counter, the one that held his own journal during the hours the pub was open. He then returned to Severus.
"Can I get you a drink?" he asked with a look of wry sympathy. "It sounds like you need one and given that I suspect I am partly to blame, it's on the house."
Severus looked at the other man while Aberforth spoke and then locked the journal away. Severus felt like he'd been so twisted around this month that he did not know who to believe. He missed the simplicity of being certain that he hated Potter & Black, and that he wanted to be with the Death Eaters because that was where his friends were and because he was part of something larger. He didn't trust Potter & Black, he'd seen what Sirius had done to Regulus. He didn't trust Aquila, or Marius - and at the moment he wasn't certain he trusted any Death Eater who was a pureblood - and he didn't like the ones that weren't. He felt as if he'd been burned badly and everywhere ached. Any touch, any prodding, it all caused him pain. And he was angry. So very angry. But at the same time he felt defeated and uncertain where to turn.
The man in front of him, he shouldn't be trusting. He shouldn't have written the things he'd had, but he could not take them back and he was not even certain he wanted to. Despite the anxious feeling he'd felt when he had first read Aberforth's note to him, there was also a certain relief in it. If Aberforth knew but was not demanding an answer, was not threatening him or holding it over his head as blackmail... surely there was something trustworthy there? "I can respect that," Severus said simply. He took a seat at the bar, watching the other man carefully, not quite daring to check to see if there were truth there, but half wanting to. But then who was to say that Aberforth would not know a bit of occlumency - he almost seemed the type that might. "I don't know if I can promise the same," he said slowly. "but I'd like to. and I suppose I can promise you that I won't lie. I might not tell you, or I might not tell you everything, but... I feel like you've been honest with me, and I don't like the idea of not being the same in return."
"And I'd take a drink," he said, a small sigh managing to escape. Now that he was here he didn't know what to say. He only knew that he hadn't wanted to sit home alone - that it was almost dangerous for him to do so. That somebody needed to keep him away from things tonight - and Abe had been the only person he felt he could trust to do that. But he hadn't thought about the awkward aftermath of the conversation from earlier in the day. He hadn't thought about what to say to someone who had basically mentioned everything that Severus had not wanted him to know. But was it really a surprise? Severus had suspected that Aberforth might suspect him of being a Death Eater - this merely confirmed it. "I'd appreciate one, really. Thank you."
"Don't let me keep you," he added, as much from politeness as anything else. But if he was here, he could not be elsewhere. He could not be doing something that would get him killed.
"That's fair enough," Aberforth said with a nod and small smile. Merlin knows Severus was in a tighter position than he could ever be in. A Death Eater potentially with doubts was a Death Eater in a very precarious situation if what Albus' speculations as well as his own had any truth to them. And given that he knew there were other things on Severus' mind as well, including his own little bombshell, it was a wonder the young man was so calm. Admittedly he looked stressed and frustrated and there was a bleak look in his eyes that Aberforth didn't overly much like.
He reached under the counter and pulled out a dusty bottle of Firewhiskey. He brushed a little of the dust away with one hand then peered at the label before nodding with satisfaction and reaching for a rag to finish the job on the dust. He pulled down two glasses and opened the bottle. He poured a small measure into each glass then placed the bottle aside and handed one of the glasses to Severus.
"Had that bottle hanging around for a while. Thirty year old Firewhiskey. I've been looking for a good reason to open it." He gave Severus a wry look. "I think today is a good enough reason."
He took a sip of the whiskey, smiling at the combination of the smooth taste of the aged whiskey and the firey burn that gave the drink it's name. He waved a hand casually. "It's Wednesday. It's always quiet in here on a Wednesday."
A quick glance around would confirm that. The few people in the pub were all quietly gathered at tables or in the booths at the back, drinking and if they were talking at all, it was quiet and casual.
Severus gave a weak smile as he reached for the glass of whiskey. Aberforth had no idea how good a reason today was. And he was aware enough to know that it was finer whiskey than he'd have purchased on his own. Either Aberforth was trying to impress him, or he actually was being honest in saying he'd like Severus as a friend. Seven years of Slytherin house were pushing Severus towards thinking the former, but his intuition was saying it was really the latter. He took a sip and closed his eyes as he swallowed.
A glance around the pub told Severus that it was quiet, and that there weren't many people there, which was just as well. He wasn't certain what the topic of conversation would be, but he didn't want it to be overheard, whatever it was. He stared into the amber liquid and tried to put his thoughts into some order again. He really had no idea what to say to what Aberforth had said before. He felt he shouldn't confirm it, and if he was telling the truth to him, he couldn't deny it. But then, it hadn't really seemed as if Aberforth had been looking for either. It was odd to Severus that he would not have been. Who did that? Who simply stated facts without asking for any confirmation? And if he was a vigilante - and Severus was certain he was - then why wouldn't he want it confirmed?
"Why?" Severus asked him quietly, not particularly wanting to be overheard. "I've been turning it over in my head all night. You obviously think I'm a Death Eater - and I'm not confirming or denying that - but mostly the people who think I'm a Death Eater don't seem to think I'm worth the time of day. And while there is some question in my mind about whether they think I'm a Death Eater because they didn't think I was worth the time of day or whether they don't think I'm worth the time of day because they think I'm a Death Eater. It's a toss up, I think. But the point is - you obviously think I am one. But you haven't stopped talking to me and I can't quite figure out why, because I'm pretty certain you're one of the vigilante types and it doesn't make much sense to me unless you want something from me - but I don't get that sense from you either."
His head hurt and he frowned taking another sip of the whiskey. "I suppose I could just as easily ask why I'm sitting here with you after you said such, but that answer is really pretty simple, honestly. I don't have anywhere else to go, and I'm afraid if I sit at home by myself I'm going to do something that I'll regret. Possibly something I'll regret for the rest of my life - if it doesn't also shorten my life tremendously at the same time." And I have enough regrets.
Severus pressed his lips together, his thin face looking even more worn as a result of the movement. Sometimes he wasn't certain if he really was as intelligent as he wanted to think he was. That the sorting hat had been on some sort of hallucinogenic potion when it had considered placing him in Ravenclaw, even for a moment. If not Slytherin, probably a Hufflepuff then, because he would have rebelled at the thought of Gryffindor. Yes, he knew a lot book learning wise, but he seemed incapable of being reasonable about his relationships - the people he cared about - the people he allowed close to him. And here he was sitting with a man he didn't fully trust, out of some deep seated intuition that it would be all right. It was never all right - wasn't tonight proof positive of that on so many levels? - and he wasn't certain why he was allowing himself to believe it tonight. He should have taken a dreamless sleep potion and made himself go to bed.
If it hadn't been for his Mother, he would have gone home tonight and taken not a dreamless sleep potion, but something far more potent and permanent. The temptation to just stop all of the pain for good had been so strong. He was so tired, and life was too complicated. But he had to stay well and alive for her if for no other reason, because with things like they were with Aquila - a brief mixture of anger and sadness flashed across his countenance - Severus was certain Aquila's promise to take care of his mother was no longer something he could rely on. And underneath all of it was something else - Severus would have scoffed at calling it stubborn bravery - but it was probably the most accurate term for it.
Aberforth sipped at his whiskey as he listened to Severus' slightly rambling words. Even after Severus had come to a halt, he was still silent. He had a suspicion that his answer now might be fairly significant and while he was curious about what had driven Severus into the state he was currently in, since he felt that his bombshell had only been a part of the whole, he felt concentrating on this was far more important right now.
He leaned against the bar and put his glass down. He started turning the glass around and stared down into the amber-coloured liquid. "Look around this place," he said quietly. "It's not exactly the Taj Mahal, is it? It draws a... certain type of crowd, including the non-human. I've had people in here who are far worse than the average Death Eater and some of them have been strangely decent people despite their... unpleasantness. Not that I'm on the straight and narrow either for that matter." He snorted and shook his head. "Drives Albus batty. He had enough trouble getting me off the last time I was up before the Wizengamot and that was for something pretty minor. He's constantly at me about my shady dealings and how much trouble they could cause." He shrugged. "Ah well, what's life without a little excitement?"
He grimaced and shook his head then pushed his hair back from his face. "But that's beside the point. I don't judge on the externals, Severus. If you're a Death Eater then I'm sure you had your reasons for joining, whether they were good or bad reasons is something only you know. I can't judge because I wasn't there, I don't know what your life was like then and I don't know what you were thinking. And given how many appalling decisions I've made in my life, well, I really can't stand in judgement. No one can unless they've had a blameless life... and I don't know any one who has."
"You're an intelligent young man, Severus," he said, letting his face and his voice reflect his sincerity, for he was sincere about this. "You ask good questions, you're not overly blinkered in your opinions, you have a streak of sarcasm that I quite enjoy. I like you. It's as simple as that. I think there is the potential for one hell of a friendship between us if we both give it a chance."
He picked up his glass and took a sip of his whiskey. "Now I'm not saying that the fact that you may or may not be a Death Eater and that I may or may not be a vigilante isn't an issue but let's face it... I'm friends with a vampire and a half-goblin, I let the dregs of society drink openly and freely in my pub and I'm a shady eccentric old bastard with what some people like to say is an unhealthy liking for goats. Clearly I don't let other people's expectations interfere in my life."
Severus listened, and he took a few sips of the whiskey as he listened. Each one he whirled about his mouth before he swallowed it, and finally he looked up to look at Aberforth's eyes. He really did believe the man's sincerity. He wasn't certain why - and he was afraid that it was another mistake in a long line of mistakes he seemed to make - but it really didn't seem to Severus that Aberforth was lying to him. Everything Aberforth said made sense. And perhaps that was why Severus trusted him. He was a bar tender in a bar where the regular clientèle were not clean cut and above board.
Severus managed a bit of a smile as Aberforth finished. Hell, he'd spent much of his time at Hogwarts and even some time out of it being intimidated by this Dumbledore almost as much as he had been by the other. And there were reasons for that, but he was finding that they weren't very good ones. He rather appreciated that Aberforth didn't seem to care much what other people thought, and wondered if he had that to thank for the fascinating conversations they'd had. And the man had unusual opinions on dark magic and potions, things Severus was really certain would not go over well in general, but they were opinions that made sense to him - and it was rare that he found someone that really made sense to him.
He found that he didn't really know what to say to the honesty. It was unexpected, and while nice, Severus didn't exactly know what to do with it. "I don't know many people who do that," he said finally. "I mean, not judge people on externals. And honestly, I can't think of a time someone hasn't judged me on an external. My first day at Hogwarts - not even first day really, cause I was on the bloody train - I was judged because they didn't like the look of me. And it seems like it doesn't change. I'm still being judged because of who my friends were or are, who my father was..."
"And I wish I were smarter about it," he frowned. "If I'd been smarter maybe I wouldn't have lost -" Lily. He shook his head slightly. If his wish had been to push Lily from his mind by courting Astra, certainly the events of the past few days had done that. The pain from Lily felt like someone poking him gently with a forefinger as opposed to the dozen needles that the pain from everything that had happened with Astra felt like. That pain was fresh and made all the more acute because of everything else it had opened up. The reason he had not been with Lily had been to make something of himself with the Death Eaters. And now he was realising that every assumption he'd made, the beliefs he had built those decisions around were nothing but a facade - and possibly one he had built himself.
"And what you've said makes sense and mostly people seem to not make sense, so when I meet someone who does, it almost always interest me. And I'm grateful for it, because there's very little right now that makes any sense to me." He took another sip of the whiskey and looked up at Aberforth. Whether it was the right thing to do or not, Severus realised that he'd made up his mind to trust the other man. At least... some. And if he truly didn't mention Severus' name to the Aurors, or confirm him as a Death Eater to the vigilantes, Severus would trust him more. He liked Aberforth, that like made stronger by the fact that Aberforth didn't seem to be judging him at all and that was such a luxury that Severus felt almost as if someone had handed him a key to a full Gringott's vault and told him it was his to spend.
"Most don't," Aberforth said simply. "Most never learn to so that. I learned at an early age and had the lesson rammed home several times over the decades." He gave a rather whimsical smile. "Eventually the lesson sticks."
Aberforth snorted and took a slightly bigger sip of his Firewhiskey, remembering his own trip to Hogwarts on the train. Excruciating would be an excellent word to describe that trip. If it hadn't been something being whispered about his father the Mugglehater, it was something nauseating about his oh-so-perfect brother. And in amongst all of that had been the resentment at being sent away and the worry about whether Mother would be able to handle Ariana on her own because Ariana hadn't always obeyed Mother where as she'd always done what he asked.
"Son, I know how that feels," he said with heavy sympathy. "I was the son of a Mugglehater who had been sent to Azkaban and the brother of the oh-so-perfect Albus Dumbledore, top of his class, teacher's pet and friend to all. I'm not sure which was worse. Especially as I looked like a ragged little hellion because the last place I wanted to be was Hogwarts. Albus was nicely condescending too before he sent me off to join the rest of the First Years when we got to the school. People were shocked when I belted him but I'd honestly been wanting to do it since that moment."
He looked down into his glass and frowned, swirling the amber liquid around for a moment before taking another sip. "I think we all wish we were smarter. Merlin knows I do. I wish I'd been smarter and bigger and better with words and with magic. I wish I'd paid attention more." He sighed and drained the rest of the Firewhiskey in his glass. He poured himself another measure and left the bottle on the bar for Severus. "I wish I could go back in time and stop..." Sorrow drifted across his face before he shook it away. He would give anything, literally anything, to be able to go back and stop those Muggle boys from attacking his sister. "Ah, nevermind. The past can't be changed no matter how much we might wish it could."
"Well, I try to make sense. I leave the idiocy and fluffing around to Albus... though I do sort of understand why he does it." He cocked his head to one side and examined Severus, noting the signs of stress and misery on him. "Feel free to tell me that it's none of my damn business and to shut my gob but... do you want to talk about it? I probably can't do anything to change it but sometimes it helps just to get it all off your chest."
Severus watched the other man as he talked, startled somewhat at Aberforth's words as he was often when he started learning something about the man's past. He was beginning to think there was more to both Dumbledore's than what he would have originally believed, and while he might have preferred the company of the younger one, he was finding himself curious about the older one as well. The Dark Lord feared Albus Dumbledore - Why? The obvious answer was that Albus Dumbledore was the one wizard that might be a threat to him - be on the same level as him - but Severus wasn't certain that was the only thing. And Aberforth's descriptions of his brother, made him even more curious.
"I did want to be at Hogwarts," Severus said slowly. "But I didn't really know what to expect, I guess. And I knew that Muggles kept status and class and things - but I wasn't expecting it from Wizards. I think I just thought things would be more equal - for once." He laughed, a bit of bitterness in the laughter. "I was so fucking naive. But how was I to know? Mum didn't talk about it much, and I never met my grandparents on her side - I still haven't. My Dad was a Muggle, and he didn't even want me to go to Hogwarts. They fought so much over that," Severus waved a hand, and then reached for the bottle and poured himself a bit more, but he left it in the glass for a while. "I think Mum would have done anything to make certain I did go, she was insistent." And Severus was fairly certain it was true, even if she'd had to do something not quite legal. "She wasn't going to let Dad say, but he wasn't happy about it. And they were so busy fighting over that, she didn't have much time to tell me what to expect about the wizarding world. She'd taught me spells, and potions, and let me read all of her books, but she didn't tell me that even though I could do magic, I still wouldn't fit in."
Did he want to talk about it? Severus stared into the glass, but hadn't the reason he'd come been precisely because he had felt Aberforth wouldn't smack him for falling in love with a pureblood princess? He glanced around slightly, but those in the bar were not close enough to overhear.
"She's engaged," he said, a heavy finality in his voice. "Engaged. And I've no doubt it's -" he stopped, hesitating. Aquila had been named a Death Eater. To talk about Aquila as his best friend was as good as announcing to Aberforth that Severus Snape was a Death Eater. How could he even talk about these things without implicating himself? And yet he wanted to talk to someone - someone who had no emotional attachment to the situation one way or another. Someone he wasn't in love with, or feeling betrayed by, and someone who might be able to shed some vague rational value on the entire thing. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, and took a deep breath.
"She's pureblood, I'm not. Obviously. She loves me. I love her. But there's no way-" He kept stopping at brick walls, pieces of the story were missing and he couldn't tell Aberforth those pieces without admitting the truth about his allegiances. Bugger all, he already knows and at the moment Severus almost didn't care if Aberfoth did go to the Aurors and it was a gamble he was going to take. The truth was that he was beginning to feel very strongly that Aberforth Dumbledore was a man who knew how to keep secrets, and perhaps it was time to just test that theory - consequences be damned.
"Aquila and I were best friends at Hogwarts," Severus said. "I thought of him like a brother, and I thought he felt the same way about me. But it turns out that by falling in love with his sister, I've betrayed him, and possibly ruined her - Except I apparently have not ruined her because she's engaged to Marius Fucking Lestrange. With his French impossible love of his life, and his bloody condescending 'I know what it's like to have lost someone you love,' dragon shite. As if I couldn't? As if this was all some sort of new experience for me? He has no clue. No fucking clue what it's like. So he got his hand slapped because he fell in love with someone unavailable? So what? The first woman I loved married my worst enemy, so he can take his condescending "loved and lost" shite and stick it up his pampered French arse. He could have any girl he put his eyes on. I work twice as hard as he ever has, and I love Astra ten times as much I'm certain. And I'm not an idiot, I know he's a better match, but I hate not even being given a chance."
Aberforth listened to Severus without interrupting him. He didn't even twitch when the young man said Aquila. There couldn't be too many people of Severus' age named Aquila so that must mean he was talking about Aquila Avery, recently named as a Death Eater. It was as good a confirmation as he was going to get short of Severus actually saying 'Yes, I am a Death Eater'. Well, that was one thing cleared up. A flurry of emotions flowed through him but he quickly suppressed them. It wasn't a surprise and he'd been anticipating this. But now was not the time to deal with that part.
"Mother was Muggleborn," he said thoughtfully. "I know she had some difficulties with her parents when they found out. This was mid 19th century. Muggles were far more superstitious and rigid than they are now. I never actually met my Muggle grandparents though I'm not sure if that was due to them or to various family issues that arose." He sipped thoughtfully at his whiskey. "I don't remember much in the way of class issues at Hogwarts but then I was in Gryffindor, home of the great unwashed it often seemed. I do remember the Slytherins and some of the Ravenclaws being much more concerned with such things." He shook his head. "It was never really an issue at home. Mother was Muggleborn. Father was a pureblood but we were never wealthy, especially not after Father went to prison."
He sighed at Severus' reveal of his largest problem. Poor lad. It was as he thought with added prejudice on the part of someone he'd thought was a friend. What a way to learn that pureblood were always purebloods, no matter what show they might put on. Even his father had possessed that pureblood arrogance for all he'd married a Muggleborn. Not that he'd ever considered his wife inferior but he'd certainly never hesitated to go after the Muggle boys who had attacked his daughter.
"Whoever came up with the line 'better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' should be beaten severely with a large stick," he said with bitter dryness. "I think I told you of my first love? The one I lost to the suffragette movement? Daughter of a lord or a baron or some such. I loved her but I never would have dared to ask her to marry me. Me? A no-name nothing from off the streets? He wouldn't even have seen me and even if he had, he'd have laughed me out of the house for even daring to think I could marry his daughter. Mind you, I think she eventually took up with another woman, which was an horrific scandal in those days. I always admired her for doing that. I wrote to her when I heard of it. She wrote back saying she'd told her father that because she couldn't have me, she wouldn't have any man. I don't think she was serious but I confess I would have liked to have seen what colour the old man had turned when she'd told him that."
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "The point of all that rambling was that I'm not even going to attempt to tell you that it'll be alright or that you'll get over it. I mean, you will eventually but that means precisely nothing right now. It hurts and you're angry and frustrated, probably humiliated. You want to make them pay, even suffer, and you're not sure if you could face this Marius Lestrange without punching him in the nose or hexing his arse off, either of which he could do with from the sound of it."
He picked up the bottle and poured more whiskey into both their glasses. "Drink up, son. It won't change what's happened or make it better but at least you'll be able to forget for a little while and in the morning you can curse me for the hangover instead of them."
Severus almost smiled as he took a drink and was quiet for a moment. He couldn't exactly say that he had faced Marius Lestrange and had not hexed his arse off - whether that made things better or worse, Severus couldn't say. The truth was that it had not happened for lack of Severus wanting it to happen, but Marius was yet the better dueler and it would be a while - perhaps a long while before Severus would be in a position where he could actually make such a thing happen. At least with Lestrange he would feel no guilt if something he did caused him to be captured, injured, or even killed. Where he knew Lily loved Potter, he knew Astra did not love Marius. And even if she learned to care for the man over time, Severus would still feel very little guilt about it. It was not the same thing. Severus wasn't certain why he wanted marriage so badly - perhaps because his own family had been so torn apart - but he truly did want it. And he felt like this time it had been nearly within his grasp.
"At least Lestrange is not likely to rub my face in it frequently," he frowned and took another drink of the firewhiskey. "He will be too "well-bred" for that. And at least she loved me." Severus did not say how certain he was of that love. The romantic in him thought she ought to have offered at least to leave everything behind, if she truly loved him. The part of him that was utterly practical and reasonable realised it was nothing that could be done. A certain way to be outcast in the best of times, it was downright dangerous to do right now: practically a death sentence, particularly for him as a Death Eater. He let out a frustrated breath. "I am such a bloody fool," he muttered quickly downing another bit of the whiskey. "And I cannot-" leave. I must keep seeing them.
He looked over at Aberforth. He had all but said I am a Death Eater, but the man did not seem worried that he was sitting next to one. And perhaps that was because he felt - and felt accurately - that Severus was having doubts. Was that why he was sitting here talking to him? Perhaps, and Severus still did not care. "There's no logic in it," he said finally. "And I forget that the world is neither logical nor fair. That it does not always reward hard work and dedication, and that mostly people cannot be trusted," his tone turned bitter at the end of the sentence and he quickly took another drink. "You would think I wouldn't forget this, I've had enough experience with it, but I still keep thinking -" hoping "for a different result. If that isn't the definition of a fool I don't know what is. And people I used to despise? I'm agreeing with. And people that I hate being right - are right. And they don't deserve to be right. They threw it all away to do what? Shag a lot and live off of other people's kindness? And then they have the nerve to mock me for wanting what they threw away?"
"Did you ever marry?" He asked finally. If the answer was no, Severus was not certain it would make him feel better, but it took his mind off of his own problems for a moment, and kept him from rambling on like an idiot, with half pieces of information stuck in-between everything else, keeping a truth hidden that was in reality as plain as the nose on his face, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it.
Aberforth snorted. "Well, sometimes their ridiculous 'rules' work against you and sometimes they work for you," he said dryly. He wanted to ask whether this young woman actually had loved Severus but decided against it. The lad was having a bad enough time without Aberforth rubbing his nose in the idea that perhaps the love had been nothing more than a fleeting infatuation. Besides he rather thought Severus was smart enough to have considered the idea himself.
"Severus, my boy, we're all fools at one time or another," he said with heavy irony. "And oddly enough, a lot of times we're at our most foolish, women are involved. There's something about them that makes our brains dribble out of our ears or at the very least we start thinking with the wrong brain." He wasn't sure whether Severus would have encountered that particular piece of semi-ribaldry in Slytherin House but it was possible. He was certain that if he hadn't, he get the gist of it anyway.
He cocked his head to one side and a small, odd smile grew on his face when Severus complained about the fact he was agreeing with people he hated. "Severus, have you ever considered that you might be growing up? You don't have to like people to acknowledge that they're right. I personally despise Barty Crouch but I will agree that testing my experimental charm on a goat possibly wasn't the wisest move I've ever made." He snorted at that particular memory. "Not that I'd ever tell him that to his face, the overbearing twat. And not that they have the right to mock you for wanting anything. No one does. We're all allowed our dreams and wants."
He blinked and gave Severus a surprised look at the question then chuckled and took a sip of his whiskey. "No. I got close once, even proposed and everything. She died in a car crash. She was a halfblood witch and her mother was a Muggle. She was in a car with some cousins and they were hit by a drunk driver. She and one of her cousins died instantly." Sorrow settled on his face. "A stupid accident but what can you do?" He shook his head and sighed. "I still miss her. She was one hell of a woman. I've been a few long term relationships as well since then but nothing's ever really stuck if you know what I mean."
Severus nodded throughout Aberforth's comments on foolishness and then grinned wryly at Aberforth's comments on his goat and he took another drink. "Well, I suppose it makes sense that even people you dislike might be right occasionally. And even hypocritical idiots at that." He looked over at Aberforth, considering what he'd said. It hadn't worked out, but he almost had gotten married. "You don't have any control over it, do you," he said thoughtfully. "I mean, other things you can control. How hard you work at potions or charms, learning new things. The people you speak with, the decisions you make, but women..." he sighed. "You can't control whether they love you or not-" that had been the problem with Lily. "Or even if they do..." he shook his head.
He was silent for a moment. There were things he wanted to ask - things he wasn't certain he should ask and things that he didn't think he could ask without giving himself away or without forcing Aberforth to declare whether or not he was a vigilante and as he hadn't required that information from Severus, Severus rather disliked the idea of requiring it from him. As he sat, the anger was draining out of him, leaving him exhausted and weary. His determination from earlier had not faltered. He was through thinking of them as friends or family. With the exception of perhaps Regulus, whom he was clearheaded enough to realise was not his brother, but still felt he was a better brother than Sirius had been, he would not risk being close to any of them again. He had been lured into it by their words and their praise, and even tonight, when Rodolphus Lestrange had remarked on his improvement, Severus had felt momentarily thrilled by the comment. The thrill had faded quickly as he'd realised that if Rodolphus knew, Severus might have been in the lowest tier with Regulus now.
"I hate admitting when I'm wrong. I suppose nobody likes it much," he said heavily. "It's not a particularly pleasant thing to do is it? But it still must be done occasionally. But you know, I think I hate worse when I don't know if I'm wrong. When my brain bloody well won't think, and I'm afraid that I'm too close to a situation to be rational about it - to be objective. And feeling torn-" He realised that he felt less torn now than he had a week ago. Without Astra... why would he stay fighting for the very laws and guidelines that had kept him from her? What sense did that make? And yet, it couldn't just be left. Traitors - well, traitors were safer in Azkaban like Goyle than they were on the outside. And he was very, very glad that he had taken the time to learn Occlumency. "But not as much now," he frowned. "I really wish," he took a drink and hesitated. "I really wish I could just leave. But my Mum's here, and she needs me. And beyond that... there are things I can't run from." He couldn't ask advise without telling Aberforth everything, and he couldn't tell him everything.
"Lily used to be my best friend," he said finally, wondering briefly why he had brought that up and assuming it had to be the alcohol. Probably.