Severus Snape thinks you're an idiot. Yes, you. (rusedeguerre) wrote in unforgivenrpg, @ 2010-08-31 07:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, 2000-08, c: aberforth dumbledore, c: severus snape, type: narrative |
RP: Snape vs. Dumbledore
Who: Severus Snape & Aberforth Dumbledore
When: 30 August 2000, 1am
Where: The Hog's Head
Rating: PG
Warning: None
Summary: A meeting... because you know you all want to see this.
Severus slipped through the shadows as he made his way through the streets of Hogsmeade. He doubted there was anyone awake to notice him and anyone who was awake was unlikely to question a member of the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle… especially not this member of the Inner Circle. After all, the man who murdered Albus Dumbledore was not one anyone wanted to make angry. It was a sour, bitter thought but the reputation worked for him so Severus always let it lie. He didn’t want to be noticed though even if he wouldn’t be questioned. Because he would be remembered and he didn’t want anyone asking idle questions about what he was doing here tonight.
He wasn’t precisely nervous about the meeting. There wasn’t much he ever really got nervous about these days. When you’d spent twenty years as a spy, you didn’t really get nervous about meetings unless you suspected there was a good chance you were going to be killed. He’d describe how he felt as apprehensive and wary. Aberforth wasn’t going to kill him. That would be pointless and detrimental to the Order and he didn’t think the old man would do that. But he wouldn’t put it past Aberforth to hex him severely or to even punch him. According to Albus, Aberforth had an excellent right hook. He wasn’t exactly sure of precisely how Albus knew that but… the two of them were brothers and brothers fought, sometimes physically.
He paused when he reached the gate that lead to the back yard of the pub and cast a Hominem Revelo. Once he was assured that he hadn’t been followed, he opened the gate and slipped inside the yard. He carefully skirted around the side of the yard, keeping well clear of the goat. The creature was purple and in Severus’ experience, had a foul temper with anyone other than Aberforth. When he reached the back door, he opened it and hurried inside.
In was quiet inside the pub as he made his way along the corridor. There was a door on either side about halfway along but he didn’t bother even attempting to open those doors. They were warded and knowing Aberforth, unpleasantly warded. Severus liked his hands just how they were. The door that lead into the bar area was unlocked and unwarded and Severus let himself in, just as he had done many times before. Aberforth had been a contact when Severus hadn’t wanted to take the time to go up to the castle, usually during the summer holidays.
Then again, Severus’ history with Aberforth was long and chequered, dating back to the times he’d spent in here after Lily’s rejection, drinking and trying not to end up drinking like his father and talking about anything and everything with the old barman, to being thrown out after overhearing the prophecy to submitting to Aberforth’s rough yet oddly gentle first aid when he hadn’t wanted Poppy or Albus to know what had happened to him.
His first thought when he walked in was that the bar was empty but then he saw the hunched figure sitting in one of the booths, a bottle and two glasses sitting on the table. One glass was empty, the other half full.
“Well? Sit down, boy. I’m not going to hex you. Yet.”
Severus flinched slightly at the harsh voice, familiar and yet different from the one he was used to. He made his way over, feeling like the gawky, gangly, awkward boy he’d been the first time he’d come in here and slid into the seat opposite Aberforth. The old man looked about the same as the last time he’d seen him a few weeks before Albus had… died. Maybe a few more lines, a little more in the way of bags under his eyes but essentially the same. It was reassuring in some ways.
Aberforth had been giving Severus an equally close inspection and he abruptly snorted and poured scotch into the other glass.
“You look like shit, Snape.” Aberforth pushed the glass towards him.
“Why, thank you. You’re too kind,” Severus replied dryly. He eyed the glass and its contents narrowly for a moment then mentally shrugged, picked it up and took a drink. He doubted Aberforth was going to poison him and if he did, well, he had come prepared – he had a bezoar tucked away in his robes.
“What happened?” Aberforth asked bluntly then scowled at Severus’ raised eyebrow. “Oh, I know you and Him cooked up something. I’m not an idiot. Moody was far too calm when he spoke to me, which means you told him what happened but he thinks I ought to hear it from you.” He paused for a moment and scowled. “Besides, I know my brother.”
Severus took another sip of the scotch then stared into the amber liquid for a moment. “He had been cursed.”
Aberforth’s eyes narrowed. “His hand?”
Severus nodded. “He took too long to call for me. I was only able to trap it there, not remove it entirely.”
“But you could have if he’d called you early enough?”
Severus hesitated then shrugged. “Perhaps. I think so but… curses can be tricky.”
Aberforth snorted. “Yeah, I know. How bad?”
Severus took another sip. “I could give him a year’s respite but that was all. His death would have been… painful, long, unpleasant.”
Aberforth leaned back in his seat, his expression one of deep cynicism. “So the old bastard told you to kill him, did he? Oh, don’t look surprised. I told you. I know my brother and I know what kind of fool demands he used to make of people, especially the ones whose balls he had in the ringer.”
Severus was reminded of why he’d always liked dealing with Aberforth. The man had no illusions about Albus and certainly didn’t view him as some sort of benevolent demigod and so many of the other fools did. Aberforth knew that Albus could be a manipulative, cold and callous man when he had to be. Never actually cruel but he skated close on occasion.
“There were other considerations,” Severus replied carefully.
Aberforth snorted. “Yeah? What considerations?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Severus outlined what had happened with Narcissa and Bellatrix and the terms of the Unbreakable Vow he’d been manoeuvred into accepting. When he was done, Aberforth stared at him for a long moment, long enough to almost make Severus fidget.
“You felt sorry for her! You’re good enough to have evaded that Vow but you didn’t. You felt sorry for her and the boy.” Aberforth snorted and looked amused. “Why, Severus, you mean you actually have a heart instead of that lump of black coal that you insist replaced it long ago?”
Now Severus did fidget. Albus hadn’t questioned his motives. He’d probably known what they were but he’d been too polite to actually wave that knowledge around. He should have known Aberforth wouldn’t be that circumspect.
“The boy was being punished for his father’s failings,” he said in a very grumpy tone, refusing to look up from his glass. “It wasn’t fair.”
Aberforth took a sip of his own scotch and eyed Severus knowingly. “Seems I’ve heard those words from you before in a few different forms. Haven’t often heard them said about anyone other than yourself though.”
Severus shrugged, bearing a remarkable yet unsurprising resemblance to the sullen, sulky boy he’d once been.
Aberforth took some pity on him. “So Albus decided that you’d fulfil the terms of the Vow. Give him a clean death, save the boy from having to kill, give you a leg up into the Inner Circle.”
Severus nodded and a look of disgust and guilt and resignation flitted across his face. Aberforth caught it.
“You didn’t want to?”
Severus’ head came up sharply then and he looked at Aberforth with disbelief. “You think I wanted to kill someone? To kill him?” he snapped angrily.
Aberforth held up one hand. “Peace. I had to ask. I had to know.”
“I argued with him,” Severus said, still with a hint of anger and definite touch of sullenness. “He didn’t listen.”
Aberforth sighed and swirled his scotch around in his glass. “Oh, he listened. He just thought he knew better. He always did.” He shook his head. “So what now, lad?”
Now Severus relaxed. He’d always been able to judge Aberforth’s mood by how he was referred to. When he was angry or suspicious, it was ‘Snape’ or 'boy'. When he was exasperated or worried, it was Severus. When he was calm and relaxed or even amused or happy, it was ‘lad’ or ‘son’.
“I don’t know,” he said with some frustration. “Feed what information I can to what’s left of the Order. What else can I do?”
“Not much.” Aberforth slid out of the seat and stood up. “Best not keep you, lad. Don’t want anyone asking questions about where you are and I’ve had my questions answered.”
Severus also slid out of the booth and just as he stood up and moved clear, Aberforth moved suddenly forward and punched him. Hard.
Severus went flying backwards, landing on the floor with a thump. His eyes were wide with shock and pain and he threw a hand out, a shield shimmering into life around him without a word or any other movement.
Aberforth didn’t move though, simply looked down at him with veiled amusement. “Settle down, lad. You didn’t think I was going to let it go entirely, did you?”
Severus stared at Aberforth warily for a moment, one hand clutching at his jaw where the punch had hit, then he dismissed the shield. He flinched momentarily when Aberforth stuck out his hand then took it and let the old man haul him to his feet again.
“Was that really necessary?” he said acidly as he prodded at his jaw. There was nothing broken but it was going to be sore and bruised unless he got some bruise paste on it as soon as he got home.
“Yes,” Aberforth said bluntly. “It was actually. Be thankful I spared your nose. It’s a tempting target.”
Severus rested a rather sardonic look on Aberforth’s own impressive prow but refrained from the obvious comment.
“Go on,” Aberforth said with a shooing gesture. “I need sleep even if you don’t.”
Severus rolled his eyes and made his way out of the pub, feeling the wards snap up behind him. He’d made it out unhexed and only having been punched once. On the whole he thought it had gone rather well.