(no subject)
Severus sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. He flipped idly through the caramel colored pages of the black leather book in his lap. He knocked over the empty bottle near his elbow. He glanced at it for a moment, his eyes bleary. He let the journal fall to the floor, pulling his legs up to rest his arms on. His head fell back onto the surface of the bed, closing his eyes.
The buzzing against the inside of his skull left an insect-like ringing in his ears. He could hear the echoing sound of Lupin and the oldest Weasley boy playing Exploding Snap. He had a good mind to go give them a thrashing, and even stood up. He nearly lost his balance, however, so he resigned to simply slide down to lie on the bed.
I shouldn't have drank the entire bottle, he thought vaguely.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwing shut as his head began to pound insistently. He wasn't in the habit of consuming such a large amount of alcohol at once, but he really hadn't wanted to go into that dusty library. All of the books there were about lineage anyway, which was extremely low on his list of interests. What else was there to do? His personal belongings were being shipped to his house, all he had with him was the bare minimum and the blasted journal that had "mysteriously" found its way into his suitcase.
His mind drifted and he thought back to the past year. So much had happened, but his own life had stayed remarkably monotonous. The headmaster had gotten into the habit of being extremely protective of him, needing to know where he was at every moment and why he was there. The man seemed terrified of losing one of his most integral Order members. Severus knew that if he died before the end of the war, it would be a serious blow to the progress of the Order. No wonder Dumbledore was being so particular about his whereabouts. He figured that once the war was over Dumbledore would leave him be. He had only briefly considered the idea of being killed before the end of things, but he decided that wouldn't be acceptable. He wasn't going to let it happen. At least that way he might get an Order of Merlin for his "valiant" efforts. Or they'd send him to Azkaban as they'd been attempting for so many years. If he was killed, it would be by the disgruntled deatheater survivors, and most likely in quite a gruesome and bloody manner. That idea sat much better with him.
The buzzing against the inside of his skull left an insect-like ringing in his ears. He could hear the echoing sound of Lupin and the oldest Weasley boy playing Exploding Snap. He had a good mind to go give them a thrashing, and even stood up. He nearly lost his balance, however, so he resigned to simply slide down to lie on the bed.
I shouldn't have drank the entire bottle, he thought vaguely.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwing shut as his head began to pound insistently. He wasn't in the habit of consuming such a large amount of alcohol at once, but he really hadn't wanted to go into that dusty library. All of the books there were about lineage anyway, which was extremely low on his list of interests. What else was there to do? His personal belongings were being shipped to his house, all he had with him was the bare minimum and the blasted journal that had "mysteriously" found its way into his suitcase.
His mind drifted and he thought back to the past year. So much had happened, but his own life had stayed remarkably monotonous. The headmaster had gotten into the habit of being extremely protective of him, needing to know where he was at every moment and why he was there. The man seemed terrified of losing one of his most integral Order members. Severus knew that if he died before the end of the war, it would be a serious blow to the progress of the Order. No wonder Dumbledore was being so particular about his whereabouts. He figured that once the war was over Dumbledore would leave him be. He had only briefly considered the idea of being killed before the end of things, but he decided that wouldn't be acceptable. He wasn't going to let it happen. At least that way he might get an Order of Merlin for his "valiant" efforts. Or they'd send him to Azkaban as they'd been attempting for so many years. If he was killed, it would be by the disgruntled deatheater survivors, and most likely in quite a gruesome and bloody manner. That idea sat much better with him.