Certain Dark Things || Book Two

xli. misery loves company

Stubborn, obstinate brat.

"It weighs heavy on my heart, Severus, the thought of him whispering madness in the child's ear. Should he learn of their shared ability, he'll seek to corrupt her. We can't let that happen. Harriet is good, and in the end, that goodness will be what saves her and those she loves from Tom Riddle."

Love. Severus almost rolled his eyes; Merlin spare him from Albus Dumbledore and his crackpot notions on love. Love did nothing but sow discontent in wayward, unsuspecting hearts. Severus had loved Lily—not as a sister, not romantically, but in the way one loves the constant and simple things in their life: a cool breeze on a summer day, a comfortable place to rest after a trying day, the shoulder upon which one cries and sheds their woes. Not that Severus ever cried, but Lily had always been the first one he'd see after rowing with his father. He could still remember the feel of her warm fingers sticking Muggle plasters over his cuts.

She was part of the building blocks he'd built his life upon. From the time that they were seven-years-old, it had been Severus and Lily, two constants sharing a single sphere through their formative years—and then she was gone, gone like summer days and cool breezes and comfortable places, plunging Severus into an undying winter of his own fucking making. Oh, he'd placed the blame on everyone else when it happened—on her, on Potter, Black, Pettigrew, Lupin, on that worthless dickhead Slughorn who couldn't spare a stringy half-blood an iota of attention, on Dumbledore and McGonagall and the blasted Dark Lord—when it always came down to two horrid syllables escaping his own bloody mouth.

In the end, love brought Severus nothing but servitude, and it was still the only part of him worth a shite.

The Headmaster poured himself a small hot toddy and offered one to Severus, but the Potions Master declined with a jerk of his head, not meeting his eyes.

"Are you sure, my boy? It is Christmas, after all."

"No. I imagine Slytherin is still awake and—slithering."

Dumbledore sipped his drink and pursed his lips, not quite holding back his smile. "Ah, perhaps there is something to the old adage of 'no rest for the wicked.'"

"Are you referring to me or to him?"

"Never you, Severus."

The Potions Master snorted and flicked his hair back from his eyes. "Of course, Headmaster," he drawled. "If you're interested, I do have a theory on what Potter and Black are up to."

"Oh dear."

"Indeed. I informed you of a theft from my private stores?"

"Yes, you did."

"I provided you a list of the possible potions one might intend to brew with those missing ingredients—among which was Polyjuice Potion." Severus' black eyes glinted in the firelight and he crossed his arms, gritting his teeth. "Earlier this afternoon, I noticed Sinistra acting oddly, and her shoes were quite similar to the pair for the girls' uniform, aside from their size. At dinner, she was dressed differently and didn't seem to have any memory of our meeting in the staff room. She mentioned having a, and I quote, 'lovely afternoon with Miss Black discussing various ephemerides and their impact upon transmutation Transfigurations.'"

Dumbledore covered his mouth with his hand, looking very close to laughter, which only served to further infuriate Severus. "Do you truly think our wayward trio capable of brewing Polyjuice Potion? They are only second-years, Severus."

"Black? Merlin, no. Potter and Granger?" Severus considered the idea again, just as he'd been doing all afternoon, ever since he glimpsed Sinistra's curious choice in footwear—ever since he first took note of the missing ingredients, really, and theorized Potter and her cohorts might have gotten into his stores somehow. He wasn't an idiot; the timing of their visit to his office and the theft were suspiciously close. If he had a shred of proof, he'd ruin their wretched little lives, but for now, he'd settle for making them miserable. If he didn't strangle all three first. "Potter and Granger could do it, especially if Granger coached the girl."