Private: Sinking in
Date: 12 September 1999
Status: Private
Summary: Severus mulls over recent events and resists the urge to bang his head against the wall -- barely.
Completion: Complete
Bugger damn bloody fucking hell.
Severus stared in the mirror, aghast to realize he was primping.
Primping.
Severus Snape did not primp. It had been years since he'd bothered giving a second thought to how he looked; his appearance hadn't mattered to him. Not much of anything except surviving the war had mattered. He lived from summons to summons, and each time he answered the Dark Lord's call, he hoped it wouldn't be the time he was discovered to be a spy.
Even prior to the Dark Lord's return, however, he had taken no pains with his grooming. It was, he supposed, a defense mechanism, yet another way of keeping people at a distance. It was safer that way.
Safe. He grimaced, more than a little convinced that he'd been living on a knife edge of danger so long that it had become a habit he no longer knew how to live without. That was the only explanation for the mess he'd landed himself in since Friday night.
Well, perhaps not the only explanation. The other option -- that he was tired of living as a recluse in every sense of the word -- made him squirm. He had intended to go to the pub, have a few drinks, have sex, and go home satisfied, nothing more. It would get him out in the world a bit and give him a chance to enjoy life for a change. He had not intended to end up feeling like Percy Weasley's mentor or accepting Remus Lupin's apology.
He had not expected to connect with anyone, and the idea that he had was... unsettling. But he had, and there was no undoing it now. Percy had been eager and obedient, and Severus had thought they would have a bit of fun; he was no stranger to playing the role of master in bed, even if it had been before Percy was born ("Although when I told you to have fun molesting the kiddies, I didn't mean it as a suggestion"), but it quickly became obvious that Percy needed more than mere sex.
Comfort, dispensing advice, offering support -- these were not things that Severus was good at. Scorn, derision, and blistering insults were more his forte. But between the absinthe lowering his walls and Percy's need, something had been tapped. Some tiny, forgotten pocket of compassion. He had seen himself in Percy, and he had wanted to help turn Percy's steps away from the path he had trod if he could, and in turn, Percy had provided something that Severus had thought impossible: a connection to another person that wasn't based in fear, obligation, or duty.
He felt curiously protective of Percy now, and he was still annoyed that he hadn't had the chance to talk with him yesterday morning. He had seen Percy at the pub last night, but he hadn't approached him; he hadn't approached anyone. He had sat for a while, had one glass of brandy, and then quietly slipped out again without speaking to anyone. He wasn't even certain why he'd gone except that he wasn't ready to be alone with his own thoughts yet.
As if suddenly finding himself kindly disposed towards a Weasley wasn't enough, he had accepted Lupin's apology and agreed to end the hostilities between them. It was difficult to wrap his mind around the thought that Lupin hadn't known about "the prank" and hadn't helped Black try to kill him. For twenty years, he had been convinced that was the case -- that Lupin hated him as much as Potter and Black had, and that he'd known all along what Black intended to do. Now he knew that wasn't the case, and the knowledge changed everything.
To top it all off, Lupin wanted to be friends. With him. And Severus had agreed to give it a try.
He resisted the urge to pound his head against the wall and settled on asking himself what the bloody hell he had been thinking for the millionth time instead. Well, it was done, and he couldn't undo it without making himself look like an utter bastard. Granted, almost everyone he knew thought he was an utter bastard anyway, but he was trying to soften that image a bit, not ground himself more firmly in it.
He would simply have to be careful, that was all. If he could keep the Dark Lord from discovering he was a spy, he could bloody well keep Remus Lupin from figuring out the truth about his feelings. It couldn't be that difficult.
His expression one of grim determination, Severus returned to his bedroom to dress. He would return to the Leaky Cauldron, and this time, he wouldn't skulk in the shadows. Things had turned out quite differently than he expected, but he would manage. After all, he'd had enough unexpected twists thrown at him for one weekend, and he was certain that this time, nothing out of the ordinary would occur.
Status: Private
Summary: Severus mulls over recent events and resists the urge to bang his head against the wall -- barely.
Completion: Complete
Bugger damn bloody fucking hell.
Severus stared in the mirror, aghast to realize he was primping.
Primping.
Severus Snape did not primp. It had been years since he'd bothered giving a second thought to how he looked; his appearance hadn't mattered to him. Not much of anything except surviving the war had mattered. He lived from summons to summons, and each time he answered the Dark Lord's call, he hoped it wouldn't be the time he was discovered to be a spy.
Even prior to the Dark Lord's return, however, he had taken no pains with his grooming. It was, he supposed, a defense mechanism, yet another way of keeping people at a distance. It was safer that way.
Safe. He grimaced, more than a little convinced that he'd been living on a knife edge of danger so long that it had become a habit he no longer knew how to live without. That was the only explanation for the mess he'd landed himself in since Friday night.
Well, perhaps not the only explanation. The other option -- that he was tired of living as a recluse in every sense of the word -- made him squirm. He had intended to go to the pub, have a few drinks, have sex, and go home satisfied, nothing more. It would get him out in the world a bit and give him a chance to enjoy life for a change. He had not intended to end up feeling like Percy Weasley's mentor or accepting Remus Lupin's apology.
He had not expected to connect with anyone, and the idea that he had was... unsettling. But he had, and there was no undoing it now. Percy had been eager and obedient, and Severus had thought they would have a bit of fun; he was no stranger to playing the role of master in bed, even if it had been before Percy was born ("Although when I told you to have fun molesting the kiddies, I didn't mean it as a suggestion"), but it quickly became obvious that Percy needed more than mere sex.
Comfort, dispensing advice, offering support -- these were not things that Severus was good at. Scorn, derision, and blistering insults were more his forte. But between the absinthe lowering his walls and Percy's need, something had been tapped. Some tiny, forgotten pocket of compassion. He had seen himself in Percy, and he had wanted to help turn Percy's steps away from the path he had trod if he could, and in turn, Percy had provided something that Severus had thought impossible: a connection to another person that wasn't based in fear, obligation, or duty.
He felt curiously protective of Percy now, and he was still annoyed that he hadn't had the chance to talk with him yesterday morning. He had seen Percy at the pub last night, but he hadn't approached him; he hadn't approached anyone. He had sat for a while, had one glass of brandy, and then quietly slipped out again without speaking to anyone. He wasn't even certain why he'd gone except that he wasn't ready to be alone with his own thoughts yet.
As if suddenly finding himself kindly disposed towards a Weasley wasn't enough, he had accepted Lupin's apology and agreed to end the hostilities between them. It was difficult to wrap his mind around the thought that Lupin hadn't known about "the prank" and hadn't helped Black try to kill him. For twenty years, he had been convinced that was the case -- that Lupin hated him as much as Potter and Black had, and that he'd known all along what Black intended to do. Now he knew that wasn't the case, and the knowledge changed everything.
To top it all off, Lupin wanted to be friends. With him. And Severus had agreed to give it a try.
He resisted the urge to pound his head against the wall and settled on asking himself what the bloody hell he had been thinking for the millionth time instead. Well, it was done, and he couldn't undo it without making himself look like an utter bastard. Granted, almost everyone he knew thought he was an utter bastard anyway, but he was trying to soften that image a bit, not ground himself more firmly in it.
He would simply have to be careful, that was all. If he could keep the Dark Lord from discovering he was a spy, he could bloody well keep Remus Lupin from figuring out the truth about his feelings. It couldn't be that difficult.
His expression one of grim determination, Severus returned to his bedroom to dress. He would return to the Leaky Cauldron, and this time, he wouldn't skulk in the shadows. Things had turned out quite differently than he expected, but he would manage. After all, he'd had enough unexpected twists thrown at him for one weekend, and he was certain that this time, nothing out of the ordinary would occur.