scene_in_mind Drabble: Storytelling
Title: Responsibility
Rating: PG-13
Characters: MWPP, Snape, various Slytherins
Pairings: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Snape’s a storyteller/He’s not trying to escape/Responsibility! Written for the scene_in_mind 'Storytelling' challenge.
Author’s Note: Nope.
I. You Need Consistency
While regarded as a sincere subscriber to Pureblood ideology and sometimes regaled as one of Slytherin’s most promising students, Severus Snape was not popular. He did not have the cool grace or silky charisma of a natural-born leader like Lucius Malfoy. Nor was he fortunate enough to even inherit the good looks and the even better money of many of his other, perhaps less deserving housemates. This he understood.
Detached as he considered himself to be from the frivolous self-doubt, melodrama and angst that absolutely plagued his age-group, Severus was well aware of his social standing. However, it didn’t concern him; his strengths were in areas outside the questionable and imprecise field of human admiration. And this he understood. Through study, hard work and a seriousness of purpose, he could garner respect, and that was as much as he would allow himself to covet from other people.
Of course, this formula did not apply to everyone with success. But then, even those anomalies were to be expected, for what were people if not insubordinate and irregular? In any case, he always found that those that did in fact break his system were not worthy of it to begin with. Sirius Black, James Potter and even stupid little Peter Pettigrew, who could hardly insult someone without guidance; these boys were the shining avatars of unruliness, and seemed to make a sport from their malfunction. However, Severus could react to their behavior with reasonable loathing and disdain.
This he also understood.
What provided contention, though was the rather un-contentious Remus Lupin. Lupin followed Severus’ system to a ‘t.’ And in doing so, was thus unpredictable. It rather seemed, Severus decided, that Lupin was the anomaly to the anomaly. Why he could keep the company he did and still behave in a rational, even mildly honorable manner was rather unfathomable.
Severus did not know how to react to him.
II. Listen, Watch and Wait
Lupin could be incredibly quiet.
While for most people, this made him fade into the background, melt to the backs of their minds, for Severus, it was like a spotlight. It seemed that Lupin, above anyone else he’d encountered, respected the value of silence. During class, his quill barely scratched the parchment while he took down notes. In the library, the sighs of his book’s turning pages hovered below a whisper.
And on that one very strange day when Lupin and Severus had been partnered during Transfiguration - Black was down in the infirmary nursing a nasty hex received from a cousin, leaving the so-called Marauders with uneven numbers - the former had been polite, helpful and efficient. He’d been friendly, too, Severus admitted, though he’d barely said a word even then.
“Do you mind if we work at my table? It’s just that I can see the board much better from here. I wouldn’t want to miss any steps.” His smile had been apologetic.
And then, at the end of the lesson, he’d done something very strange. As he leaned across the table to pick up his books, he’d stopped and looked Severus in eyes. “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I wish I were a better person, but I promise I won’t hurt you myself.”
Looking back on that moment, Severus realised that some sort of treaty had been issued between them. In his mind, he finally allowed that Remus Lupin was a decent human being.
III. A Plot Begins to Take Shape
Severus had never made anyone laugh before. At least, not that he could recall. But when the whole thing began, it had really be quite easy; effortless was the word, really. Seymour Zabini and Lucius Malfoy had center stage in the Slytherin common room, per usual. The subjects of talk were conventional as well: school, Quidditch, the infuriating liberalisation of the Wizarding world. And then, of course, there were the Gryffindors. Especially those fifth-years Black and Potter.
Malfoy professed he was glad to be leaving just to be done with them and their incessant pranking. Zabini remarked that he didn’t see what all the fuss was about them anyway, they certainly weren’t as brilliant as everyone played them off to be. “I find their charade rather trite,” he added, punctuating this statement with a yawn. “That whole brothers-in-arms act is tired, if you ask me.”
“I don’t know if you mean brothers-in-arms,” Severus had smirked over the pages of his book. He was sitting in a chair just outside the circle of talking students; they all turned to him at these words. Initially, the scattered laughter that met his comment surprised him. Then he added, “I’m sure they don’t spend all that time behind closed doors thinking up pranks.”
The laughter built.
Severus closed his book and sat up fully. The students were turned completely toward him now. “In fact,” he said. “Just yesterday afternoon, I saw something rather peculiar. I was coming late to dinner because I’d been finishing up an essay in the library. Coming toward me, totally absorbed with one another of course, were Potter and Black. I ducked into a hallway and watched them sneak into an empty classroom. Then, they shut the door.”
That much was absolutely true.
“Then what?” demanded Jean Wilkes, leaning in. The others followed suit. For a moment, Severus was at a loss.
Then: “I heard moaning.”
This was decidedly not true.
By the end of the night, it seemed that the difference between fact and fiction no longer existed. Stories of Black and Potter and their more-than-brotherly interactions were reverberating off the walls of the Slytherin common room. Anthony Rosier, rather skilled in the arts, particularly drawing, had created dirty sketches. Hillary Parkinson had penned the whole incriminating story down on parchment.
“What’re we going to do with this?” Severus asked, holding up the stack of paper.
Lucius Malfoy’s cruel, handsome mouth curled into a smile. “Why, we do what Potter and Black would do. We make it public.”
IV. What You Want to Portray?
“‘The Real Gryffindors: A Brief Expose’ by Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape.”
The Marauders looked down at the table to where James had thrown a bound stack of parchment. The cover of the booklet was graced with a rather graphic picture of two figures - unmistakably James and Sirius - engaged in a compromised position with one another.
“What the hell is this?” Peter squeaked.
Sirius paled. “How many of these books are out there?”
James shook his head bitterly. “I lost count. They’re everywhere.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is bad, mate. We’re the laughing stock of the school right now. The Slytherins have to pay.”
But Sirius was frantically riffling through the pages of the book. When he reached the end, he looked across the table. Remus met his gaze. “There’s nothing about...It’s just me and James, that is. In the book. No one else is mentioned.”
James glanced tersely between his two friends. “I hadn’t even thought about...But you’re clear, right? I mean, all of it’s crap, there’s nothing about you tw...about anyone else?”
“We’re clear,” Sirius replied, but his expression of relief was ephemeral; anger soon replaced it. “You’re right, though. The Slytherins are dead.”
Remus looked across the Great Hall to where the Slytherins were laughing at their table. Seymour Zabini made a lewd gesture at him, but Remus didn’t react. He felt a little ill.
“I think I’m going back to the tower for a bit.”
Sirius stood. “I’ll go with you.”
V. Without Responsibility
Smugness was a bit childish, Severus admitted, but then, Black and Potter had only gotten their comeuppance. He felt vindicated. So high were his spirits though, that on the way out of the Great Hall, he forgot to check his path for angry Gryffindors; he was just about to round the corner to the stairs when he heard the echo of familiar voices.
“ - you saw yourself, we’re okay. The Slytherins didn’t put in anything in there about us. If they’d known, they would’ve ripped us apart for it. We’d be outed to everyone.”
“I know, I know. I’m just...I’m a little on-edge now, Sirius. That scared me half to death, seeing those pictures...”
“No joke. Look, if it’s too hard for you...I mean, I’d understand if...”
“Shut up, Sirius. I’d never do that.”
There was a soft sigh. Severus peered very slowly around the corner. On the first landing of the stairs, Lupin and Black were standing face-to-face. Black was nodding, smoothing his hair nervously. Lupin had his back to the wall and his arms over his chest. Then, quite easily, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, Black stepped up to Lupin and brushed their mouths together. They exchanged a smile before Black buried his head into the crook of Lupin’s neck and allowed the other boy to hold him. After a moment, they disengaged. Black turned to go up the stairs.
“You coming?” he asked Lupin. Lupin hesitated, then shook his head.
“You go on, I’ll be up in a minute. I just need to collect my nerves a bit.” He watched Black disappear upstairs, then took to pacing about the landing, arms fiercely crossed about his wiry body once more. Severus had quite forgotten that he was in plain sight until Lupin noticed him standing at the base of the stairs. The other boy froze.
Severus stepped out completely from behind the corner. He cleared his throat, trying to come off as compose. Instead he gaped openly. “You...you're a...you do that?”
“I guess what James and Sirius say is true, Severus. You just can’t keep yourself out of other people’s business, can you?” Lupin was cold and still, but Severus thought he perceived just the slightest tremor in his posture. And behind his eyes, he saw a force that was rather unquiet, unlike anything he’d ever seen Lupin exhibit: rage.
Taken momentarily aback, he tried to object. No, he wanted to say, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t care about other people, I don’t care what they think. I just want to do well and do what I think is right...
He could only imagine how that would sound to Lupin.
Lupin seemed to assume Severus wasn’t going to reply, for he surged on. “I don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but I’m assuming it was long enough for you to see something you shouldn’t have seen.”
“I...I guess so.” Severus said, finding his voice.
Lupin’s eyes flashed, the anger in them sparking almost gold through the placid, boring mud-brown. “You have to be careful, Severus, when you go about meddling with other people like that. I thought that you of all people would know that. I thought James and Sirius had shown you something you didn’t want to be. They’re good blokes, you know. Well, no, you don’t. You can’t. But they’re irresponsible in that way sometimes, and I thought you would get that. And you’ve got a responsibility now. Just like them. You can’t expect to detach from this story; it’s yours.”
When he finished, he seemed tired. He held Severus’ black eyes in his gaze for a long moment, though. It was Severus who finally looked down.
“I won’t tell,” he said. He couldn’t find it in himself to apologize, but somehow he had to make it clear. “I’ve...you’re right. And I won’t tell.”
When he looked up again, Lupin was gone.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: MWPP, Snape, various Slytherins
Pairings: Remus/Sirius
Summary: Snape’s a storyteller/He’s not trying to escape/Responsibility! Written for the scene_in_mind 'Storytelling' challenge.
Author’s Note: Nope.
I. You Need Consistency
While regarded as a sincere subscriber to Pureblood ideology and sometimes regaled as one of Slytherin’s most promising students, Severus Snape was not popular. He did not have the cool grace or silky charisma of a natural-born leader like Lucius Malfoy. Nor was he fortunate enough to even inherit the good looks and the even better money of many of his other, perhaps less deserving housemates. This he understood.
Detached as he considered himself to be from the frivolous self-doubt, melodrama and angst that absolutely plagued his age-group, Severus was well aware of his social standing. However, it didn’t concern him; his strengths were in areas outside the questionable and imprecise field of human admiration. And this he understood. Through study, hard work and a seriousness of purpose, he could garner respect, and that was as much as he would allow himself to covet from other people.
Of course, this formula did not apply to everyone with success. But then, even those anomalies were to be expected, for what were people if not insubordinate and irregular? In any case, he always found that those that did in fact break his system were not worthy of it to begin with. Sirius Black, James Potter and even stupid little Peter Pettigrew, who could hardly insult someone without guidance; these boys were the shining avatars of unruliness, and seemed to make a sport from their malfunction. However, Severus could react to their behavior with reasonable loathing and disdain.
This he also understood.
What provided contention, though was the rather un-contentious Remus Lupin. Lupin followed Severus’ system to a ‘t.’ And in doing so, was thus unpredictable. It rather seemed, Severus decided, that Lupin was the anomaly to the anomaly. Why he could keep the company he did and still behave in a rational, even mildly honorable manner was rather unfathomable.
Severus did not know how to react to him.
II. Listen, Watch and Wait
Lupin could be incredibly quiet.
While for most people, this made him fade into the background, melt to the backs of their minds, for Severus, it was like a spotlight. It seemed that Lupin, above anyone else he’d encountered, respected the value of silence. During class, his quill barely scratched the parchment while he took down notes. In the library, the sighs of his book’s turning pages hovered below a whisper.
And on that one very strange day when Lupin and Severus had been partnered during Transfiguration - Black was down in the infirmary nursing a nasty hex received from a cousin, leaving the so-called Marauders with uneven numbers - the former had been polite, helpful and efficient. He’d been friendly, too, Severus admitted, though he’d barely said a word even then.
“Do you mind if we work at my table? It’s just that I can see the board much better from here. I wouldn’t want to miss any steps.” His smile had been apologetic.
And then, at the end of the lesson, he’d done something very strange. As he leaned across the table to pick up his books, he’d stopped and looked Severus in eyes. “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I wish I were a better person, but I promise I won’t hurt you myself.”
Looking back on that moment, Severus realised that some sort of treaty had been issued between them. In his mind, he finally allowed that Remus Lupin was a decent human being.
III. A Plot Begins to Take Shape
Severus had never made anyone laugh before. At least, not that he could recall. But when the whole thing began, it had really be quite easy; effortless was the word, really. Seymour Zabini and Lucius Malfoy had center stage in the Slytherin common room, per usual. The subjects of talk were conventional as well: school, Quidditch, the infuriating liberalisation of the Wizarding world. And then, of course, there were the Gryffindors. Especially those fifth-years Black and Potter.
Malfoy professed he was glad to be leaving just to be done with them and their incessant pranking. Zabini remarked that he didn’t see what all the fuss was about them anyway, they certainly weren’t as brilliant as everyone played them off to be. “I find their charade rather trite,” he added, punctuating this statement with a yawn. “That whole brothers-in-arms act is tired, if you ask me.”
“I don’t know if you mean brothers-in-arms,” Severus had smirked over the pages of his book. He was sitting in a chair just outside the circle of talking students; they all turned to him at these words. Initially, the scattered laughter that met his comment surprised him. Then he added, “I’m sure they don’t spend all that time behind closed doors thinking up pranks.”
The laughter built.
Severus closed his book and sat up fully. The students were turned completely toward him now. “In fact,” he said. “Just yesterday afternoon, I saw something rather peculiar. I was coming late to dinner because I’d been finishing up an essay in the library. Coming toward me, totally absorbed with one another of course, were Potter and Black. I ducked into a hallway and watched them sneak into an empty classroom. Then, they shut the door.”
That much was absolutely true.
“Then what?” demanded Jean Wilkes, leaning in. The others followed suit. For a moment, Severus was at a loss.
Then: “I heard moaning.”
This was decidedly not true.
By the end of the night, it seemed that the difference between fact and fiction no longer existed. Stories of Black and Potter and their more-than-brotherly interactions were reverberating off the walls of the Slytherin common room. Anthony Rosier, rather skilled in the arts, particularly drawing, had created dirty sketches. Hillary Parkinson had penned the whole incriminating story down on parchment.
“What’re we going to do with this?” Severus asked, holding up the stack of paper.
Lucius Malfoy’s cruel, handsome mouth curled into a smile. “Why, we do what Potter and Black would do. We make it public.”
IV. What You Want to Portray?
“‘The Real Gryffindors: A Brief Expose’ by Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape.”
The Marauders looked down at the table to where James had thrown a bound stack of parchment. The cover of the booklet was graced with a rather graphic picture of two figures - unmistakably James and Sirius - engaged in a compromised position with one another.
“What the hell is this?” Peter squeaked.
Sirius paled. “How many of these books are out there?”
James shook his head bitterly. “I lost count. They’re everywhere.” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is bad, mate. We’re the laughing stock of the school right now. The Slytherins have to pay.”
But Sirius was frantically riffling through the pages of the book. When he reached the end, he looked across the table. Remus met his gaze. “There’s nothing about...It’s just me and James, that is. In the book. No one else is mentioned.”
James glanced tersely between his two friends. “I hadn’t even thought about...But you’re clear, right? I mean, all of it’s crap, there’s nothing about you tw...about anyone else?”
“We’re clear,” Sirius replied, but his expression of relief was ephemeral; anger soon replaced it. “You’re right, though. The Slytherins are dead.”
Remus looked across the Great Hall to where the Slytherins were laughing at their table. Seymour Zabini made a lewd gesture at him, but Remus didn’t react. He felt a little ill.
“I think I’m going back to the tower for a bit.”
Sirius stood. “I’ll go with you.”
V. Without Responsibility
Smugness was a bit childish, Severus admitted, but then, Black and Potter had only gotten their comeuppance. He felt vindicated. So high were his spirits though, that on the way out of the Great Hall, he forgot to check his path for angry Gryffindors; he was just about to round the corner to the stairs when he heard the echo of familiar voices.
“ - you saw yourself, we’re okay. The Slytherins didn’t put in anything in there about us. If they’d known, they would’ve ripped us apart for it. We’d be outed to everyone.”
“I know, I know. I’m just...I’m a little on-edge now, Sirius. That scared me half to death, seeing those pictures...”
“No joke. Look, if it’s too hard for you...I mean, I’d understand if...”
“Shut up, Sirius. I’d never do that.”
There was a soft sigh. Severus peered very slowly around the corner. On the first landing of the stairs, Lupin and Black were standing face-to-face. Black was nodding, smoothing his hair nervously. Lupin had his back to the wall and his arms over his chest. Then, quite easily, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, Black stepped up to Lupin and brushed their mouths together. They exchanged a smile before Black buried his head into the crook of Lupin’s neck and allowed the other boy to hold him. After a moment, they disengaged. Black turned to go up the stairs.
“You coming?” he asked Lupin. Lupin hesitated, then shook his head.
“You go on, I’ll be up in a minute. I just need to collect my nerves a bit.” He watched Black disappear upstairs, then took to pacing about the landing, arms fiercely crossed about his wiry body once more. Severus had quite forgotten that he was in plain sight until Lupin noticed him standing at the base of the stairs. The other boy froze.
Severus stepped out completely from behind the corner. He cleared his throat, trying to come off as compose. Instead he gaped openly. “You...you're a...you do that?”
“I guess what James and Sirius say is true, Severus. You just can’t keep yourself out of other people’s business, can you?” Lupin was cold and still, but Severus thought he perceived just the slightest tremor in his posture. And behind his eyes, he saw a force that was rather unquiet, unlike anything he’d ever seen Lupin exhibit: rage.
Taken momentarily aback, he tried to object. No, he wanted to say, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t care about other people, I don’t care what they think. I just want to do well and do what I think is right...
He could only imagine how that would sound to Lupin.
Lupin seemed to assume Severus wasn’t going to reply, for he surged on. “I don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but I’m assuming it was long enough for you to see something you shouldn’t have seen.”
“I...I guess so.” Severus said, finding his voice.
Lupin’s eyes flashed, the anger in them sparking almost gold through the placid, boring mud-brown. “You have to be careful, Severus, when you go about meddling with other people like that. I thought that you of all people would know that. I thought James and Sirius had shown you something you didn’t want to be. They’re good blokes, you know. Well, no, you don’t. You can’t. But they’re irresponsible in that way sometimes, and I thought you would get that. And you’ve got a responsibility now. Just like them. You can’t expect to detach from this story; it’s yours.”
When he finished, he seemed tired. He held Severus’ black eyes in his gaze for a long moment, though. It was Severus who finally looked down.
“I won’t tell,” he said. He couldn’t find it in himself to apologize, but somehow he had to make it clear. “I’ve...you’re right. And I won’t tell.”
When he looked up again, Lupin was gone.