Soul of Ice

22. Memory

Severus wasn't sure how much time had passed. He had cried himself dry, and was still curled up under the duvet, simmering with self-pity. It took him a few moments to realise, when he heard knocking, that it was coming from the bedroom door.

"Dad?" Abbie's voice called from the other side. "Are you in there?"

"Just a moment," he called back. She sounded worried, so he immediately jumped out of the bed and made himself presentable, hoping she wouldn't realise he'd been crying over Persephone, then opened the door. Abbie was stood on the other side, wearing her casual weekend clothes and with a look of great concern on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I, um... I heard what happened last night."

Really? Severus knew Persephone was angry - she had every right to be - but it was a low blow to immediately report his crime to their daughter. "Allow me to explain -" he began, but she cut him off.

"You don't need to," she said. "You're not at fault."

Severus frowned. It wasn't what he had expected her to say at all. "Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I just... wanted to see if you were okay."

Severus blinked. Still she continued to surprise him.

"I'm fine," he said stiffly. "Frankly, I deserved no less."

"Dad, I know you have a tendency to take the blame for everything, but this really wasn't your fault. Harry had no business poking his nose where it doesn't belong."

Of course... She wasn't talking about Persephone - she was talking about Potter. In the chaos of everything that had happened after Persephone arrived, he had almost forgotten why he'd asked her to come in the first place.

Great. Now he was angry at Potter again, in addition to his anger at himself. Severus closed the bedroom door and stalked over to his stash of firewhisky.

"I'd offer you some but -"

"Dad, it's eight o'clock in the morning."

Severus paused. He'd been up all night crying - pathetic - and had lost track of time. Instead, he called for an elf to bring coffee. Soon enough, there was a tray on his desk and he poured out a coffee for them both.

"How do you take it?" he asked.

"Milk and two sugars."

Severus paused and looked at her. "You continue to find new ways to disappoint me," he said as he reluctantly made the drink and handed it to her.

"Let me guess. You like yours as black as your robes?"

Severus didn't respond. He just sat down in a chair in front of the fireplace next to where Abbie was sat. After a moment, he asked, "What exactly did Potter tell you?"

"Only that he looked into the pensieve. He said he saw something you didn't want him to see, and now you don't want to teach him Occlumency anymore."

Severus snorted derisively. "That's one way to put it," he muttered.

"Can - can I ask what he saw?"

"You can ask. But suffice to say, of all the memories I willingly showed you - that wasn't one of them."

Abbie stared into the fire, lost in thought. "I was really angry when he told me," she said eventually. "Like... really angry. I said some stuff I probably shouldn't have said."

"I'm sure he deserved it, whatever it was."

"Maybe..."

There was a look in her eye, an absent look he recognised to mean she was thinking something she wasn't sure if she should say.