Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Of Dungeon Bats and Loony Lovegood ❯ A Dead Man's Tale ( Chapter 2 )

Of Dungeon Bats and Loony Lovegood

 

Chapter 2: A Dead Man's Tale

 

It began the first week of May, when long hot days and sweaty nights seemed to drain what little patience the man had left. Summer never proved to be a particularly enjoyable season but today of all days dragged on rudely.

 

It was the oh-so-happy anniversary of his death. For all intents and purposes at least, as he never quite died.

 

Grass had to be cut and his balding lawn withered from the mere suggestion. The one tree stupid enough to grow on this forsaken lot looked worse off than the yellowing weeds, and with a tired glance the man decided this was the year he'd finally kill it.

 

He watched a goat run across the ugly sod below much to his chagrin, only to give a nasty bleat when it reached the dirty window. The man grimaced as it gritted its teeth up at him. He hated that goat; the blithering little beast was meaner than a badger with a hernia. And its unsightly presence only meant one thing.

 

He had a visitor.

 

Rolling his eyes irritably, Severus Snape took leave of his small greasy window and swept to the main room. He could imagine why that man would come today, and his insides twisted with anger from the thought. Snape knew any second his unwelcome guest would be banging to be let in, unruly and scruff-bearded with eyes so familiar they practically burned. Snape hated that man more than the goat and it wasn't just the smell that accompanied.

 

Just as promised, there soon came a very hasty knock at his narrow door.

 

“Snape, get dressed.”

 

Aberforth quickly stepped around the dark figure in the doorway, completely oblivious to the fact he was already clad in black robes and cape. His goat followed obediently, pausing to glare up at the man and show some gums.

 

“The Ministry has finally decided to conduct a trial for the Death Eaters whose allegiances are still in the grey. We need to send word to that boy -”

 

Perhaps it was the menacing look on Severus' face, or the fact that the room had suddenly dropped several degrees in temperature, but the old man stopped talking and gawked at him.

 

“Oh no. No. We ain't gonna to do this again, Snape.” Aberforth declared after a moment's war with that mask of a face, “You know it's time.”

 

Severus let the door close a bit too forcefully and glowered.

 

“There is no reason to enlighten the world of my survival - especially not Potter,” his silky reply was so low it practically rumbled through the room.

 

“Besides, I've been enjoying death.”

 

The old man snickered doubtfully. His goat gave a spiteful bleat before staining the floor a new shade of ugly. Snape regarded this creature as one would a steaming pile of rubbish and made a mental note to poison its food bag the next chance he got.

 

“In this dump?” Aberforth snickered, shaking his head. “Look around you - not even a dead man would enjoy it here. Well, maybe a really dead man would. It certainly smells as if something has died while enjoying itself...”

 

“Perhaps it suits me.”

 

“Perhaps you'd do well to get dressed and come along. You owe me this, even if it's what that brother of mine wanted.”

 

Snape sharply crossed the dilapidated floor, straightening himself to his most threatening height.

 

“A year, Aberforth! For a year I've done exactly what you've asked - kept to myself, kept the world in the dark. I allowed you to host that...that mock funeral in my tribute. I owe you nothing.”

 

“Nothing but your life!”

 

The old man wasn't intimidated. He sat down rather briskly on a nasty looking couch and suggested with a wave of his hand that Snape do the same.

 

“Mind you, I hadn't the slightest clue what my brother was asking at first, going to that rundown shack - with a bezoar of all things - but I did it. Could have been his life savings waiting down there for me. Maybe the potion was in case something should bite.

 

“Thought the world revolved around him, you know. Knowing his arrogance, several terrible curses could have been waiting.” The man gave a stiff huff.

 

“It would have been the least that bloody fool could have done, leaving me the key to his Gringotts vault or somesuch. Imagine my surprise when I found your rotting corpse instead.

 

“Didn't even have the good sense to die, did you Snape? But, nevertheless, you owe me your life.”

 

“Which I've since repaid,” Snape was all too eager to remind him, grudgingly taking a seat on a creaky old chair. “I have no interest to recover my place in society, whatever place that may have been. I care little for expunging my record.”

 

For a long moment the two stared daggers at one another in silence. Aberforth really didn't care either way if Snape stayed boarded up like some forgotten animal, and they both knew it. But for some odd reason, the old man was still following his dead brother's orders.

 

“You know,” Aberforth pressed on again, a hint of lofty confidence filling his voice, “the Ministry has been quite innovative these last few months, passing laws that affect a large chunk of our population.”

 

He paused for the briefest of moments to make sure the man was keeping up.

 

“Imagine if they found out such an eligible bachelor was alive and well, and without prospects at that.”

 

“Aberforth -” Snape warned dangerously, standing.

 

The old man suppressed a smirk but continued as if nothing was wrong.

 

“It's common knowledge that stuffy old Potions Professors are in want of a good wife. I'm sure they'd find you someone suitable. Though with your luck, she'll have gimpy legs, warts, and hair on her back instead of her head. Your children should be lovely, all things considered.”

 

He indicated with a mean eye the very large and unsightly nose taking up most of the other man's face, and shrugged.

 

“Or perhaps they'll deem reproducing irresponsible and simply throw you in Azkaban. I hear it's quite nice this time of year, what with the fetid stench of death and everything.

 

“Dementors are quite friendly I've heard, always trying to kiss you...”

 

“Aberforth -”

 

Snape was losing and he knew it. He considered his options, eyes glinting with malice behind a greasy wall of black hair. He could always kill this man and bury him beneath that ugly tree in his backyard. Severus wondered how long he'd have before the Ministry caught on to such a crime. The magic would echo all the way back to them surely, and in a house where the only wizard was supposedly dead, that would certainly raise some flags.

 

An hour, a day. Long enough to leave, in any rate. But did he actually want to leave?

 

He could always find some muggle means of disposing of the body...

 

After a time Severus scowled something fierce and relented. He did owe a debt to this man, despite how much he hated to admit it. Even the nastiest of gits have an honor system.

 

“If spreading my life's work before the hungry eyes of the Ministry is what you truly want - we shall alert Potter to do so.

 

“But no one else is to know of my survival. This is a posthumous recognition; I will not stand to be hounded by the press or proclaimed a hero to my face.

 

“I desire no medals, no fanfare. My slate shall be wiped clean, my debt to you repaid, and then I can go about my life in solitude. I do not expect to see you again after today and I certainly have no wish to be married. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

 

Aberforth nodded, pretending to care. He knew bloody well Snape would never be proclaimed a hero. Even if exonerated as a martyr for the cause. The man was just too sour of a bastard for such things.

 

The old wizard stood and gave a gruff nod.

 

“Good you've seen the light.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Snape crossed his arms bitterly, reality hitting him like cold water in an empty stomach. Soon his cozy existence would be uprooted, Potter would know he lived. How the man sincerely wished he hadn't in this moment. He knew damn well his desires would not be carried out; Potter had a bigger mouth than that furry devil, Hagrid.

 

When neither man moved, Snape gave an unpleasant sneer.

 

“If it's all the same with you I'd rather get this over with. Owl the boy already.”

 

“No need,” Aberforth was already at the door, his goat fast behind him. He smiled as if he had something up his sleeve and gave a haughty glance back. “I've already requested he be at the Hog's Head today at noon.”

 

Snape stared at the old man incredulously. Though certainly lacking the polished style of his brother, Aberforth had mastered the family knack for manipulation. If at all possible, Severus suddenly missed the former.

 

“Let's shove off shall we, Snape? Only ten minutes before the boy arrives; can't dawdle.”