Mad-Eye Monstrosity

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Severus was scared. Very, very scared.


That wasn't something he usually admitted to. However, he just was.


And it happened to be to do with a certain ugly brand on his left forearm.

*

Severus had been at the high table with his other colleagues, several days before the students were due to return to Hogwarts. He'd been sitting quietly, eating sparsely, and generally staying out of the conversation until a bolt of pain shot through his arm. He barely managed to hold in a grunt as his entire arm tingled uncomfortably.


"Severus, are you alright?" Asked Pomona, staring at him with concern. Minerva was gazing at him with similar maternal worry. Filius looked merely contemplative, glancing between his arm and his face with a thoughtful air. Filius was a clever man; he knew what was paining his young colleague.

"Ah, yes," Severus said standing, wincing as he did so. "Headmaster, a word, if you would."

"Of course, Severus," Albus acquiesced, and the two slipped out into the entrance hall.


"He's back," hissed Severus at once. Albus merely gazed at him for a moment, searching his eyes, and then looked away.

"Like I thought," the old man murmured.

"Like we feared," corrected Severus bitterly. "It can't just be one of your brilliant ideas that you hope will come to fruition."


"Such anger, Severus," Albus spoke. "No wonder you turned to the dark side."

And the wizened man walked away as Severus stood there shaking with rage. Minerva approached his elbow.

"Talk, Severus?"

"If the words 'drowning your sorrows' is an essential part of the talking," muttered Severus. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well then, yes, yes it is."

"Good."

*

Minerva's quarters were cosy and homely, the very antonym to his own. She had a blazing fire going with a swish of her wand and they were soon pleasantly ensconced in plush armchairs, glasses in hand. Minerva stared at her friend for a few seconds before speaking.


"I'm not an idiot, Severus, you know that," she said slowly. "No matter if I am the head of Gryffindor House." This gained a smile from the young Potions Master. "I know what happened in your early-twenties; I was there. You were seduced by power, as many were, including Albus, the hypocrite."

"You realise I can't tell you everything, Minerva, don't you?" Severus asked her. She matched his sad stare with a fierce one of her own.


"Yes, I do," replied Minerva. "We all have our secrets. Especially Slytherins. The only reason I preferred Gryffindor, really," she smiled slightly.

"I've never told anyone everything," mused Severus. "Poppy knows the medical side, Filius has guessed half of it, Pomona suspects the smallest bit, I've told some to you, and Albus thinks he knows all of it. I promise, Minerva, that one day, possibly in the near future, you'll find out the truth."


"The whole truth?"

"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

*

Luckily, Alastor Moody had not be around at that time. He'd only arrived late on the first evening of school, and so missed the unfortunate event. However, he was keeping one revolving eye on Severus at all times, and if this was meant to put him at ease in any way, shape or form, it failed miserably.


"Morning, Snake," was Moody's current greeting at breakfast. It highly amused the ex-Auror, but not the recipient of his poor jokes.

"Moody," he often growled in return. Dumbledore wanted the two of them to get on, despite forcing him to sit on the end of the table, with only Moody to attempt to converse with.


"Be hospitable," Albus would say.

Pomona's advice was to 'be brave.' Filius shrugged and mentioned Eavesdropping Charms to use on the DADA professor and their headmaster. Minerva suggested earplugs.


As it happened, Severus' ill-feeling was appropriate for the situation. Moody was not in fact Moody, but Crouch, one of the lowliest Death Eaters of the lot, with a grudge against him. He had been all too pleased to see the wizard receive the Dementor's Kiss, however much it disturbed him. The nightmares would remain a while. But he had another nightmare.


The all too close Lord Voldemort. The impending doom of an approaching war - his second war. Bloodshed. Violence. Death. How many more could he watch die? It was question he feared being asked, especially by Minerva. She knew about Lily; she knew about his parents; she knew about everything.


If someone asked him who he'd want to see die next, it'd be himself. He'd committed too many crimes, he'd silenced too many men, women and children. If anyone deserved to be sent to hell for eternity, it was him. And there, he couldn't rely on Albus to save him. Wouldn't be saved from the misery he knew he deserved, and wholly wanted.

*****

A.N. Make of this what you will - I don't know what I was writing. Well, Severus 'talks' to Minerva, so it kinda corresponds with the title. I don't know!!!!!! ;)

Thank you for reading (if you bothered!) and PLEASE COMMENT, if only to ask what was going through my mind at the time.

My answer: absolutely no idea.


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