"Do I dare disturb the universe?"

[sightlesswolf]

Date: Saturday, June 16
Time: 7:30 PM
Location: The Phoenix (for a picture see here)
Characters Involved: ANYONE
Rating: PG-ish?

Comments

[subtle_simmer]

Here was a situation which was wholly new to Severus, in spite of his extensive range of experience with most facets of death.

A memorial service.

Albus' service he would have wanted to attend, but of course that was beyond impossible. Lily's as well, he might have made an appearance under different circumstances. Had he not been directly responsible for both deaths. His father's death had not been recognised by anyone. The Muggle authorities had disposed of the body in some grave as done with anyone who died without relative or friend willing to take responsibility. Different was the death of his grandparents, Prince. They had been supporters of 'the cause', of course, but too elderly to be actively involved. Then again, they had been young enough, as magical folk go, that they ought to have lived for decades longer.

The field was competitive, particularly in that time-period. Brewers willing to provide illegal potions, no questions asked, were hard to find. Highly talented brewers even more so. To this day, Severus was not completely certain who was responsible for their deaths, but could only presume that it was either a rival or disgruntled customer who had seen to their demise. He'd made arrangements for their burial, closed up the shop (though he still retained the deed...), removed everything of value, and that had been the end of it. There had been no love between any of them and no grief spent on their deaths.

This - a public memorial - was as strange as it was exceedingly uncomfortable. He was here, because it seemed beyond disrespectful not to be, yet he would rather be anywhere else. Whether paranoia or in truth, he felt eyes on him as though people were surprised to see his presence and were watching for signs of weakness.

Was Severus Snape, cold, greasy, sadistic Potions Master actually grieving? Might he actually be caught... weeping?

Whose fool idea was it to place something so personal and intensely private on display for all to see? Was the measure of one's affection for the departed something which could only be proved and demonstrated by the relative displays of distress? He (or she) who was the most insupportable and inconsolable was the winner in the contest of who-loved-the-departed-most?

If this was the milestone, and part of the spectacle the attendees wished to witness, then Severus would lose the contest. He had cared very deeply for Mandy, but he was still enough of a bastard to be easily able and willing to quantify such things. Mandy was the most expendable of those he had come to care for in his household, with Glamis, the unfathomable old hermit, being a close second.

The location was also distasteful, but here he was. Dressed unashamedly in completely uninterrupted black, he stood like a black pillar, arms folded over his chest, several yards away from the display of mementos, brows furrowed in the familiar, forbidding scowl. Alone, as though there was an invisible circle drawn at his feet keeping all living things on the outside, it was as though he was daring anyone to attempt to speak with him on such an occasion.