Lewis Carroll/Harry Potter
Title: Severus Through the Looking Glass
Written for: sl_duel
Challenge: an improbable tale
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Severus comes to terms with sentient chess pieces and a talking egg.
Word Count: ~750
Author's Notes: acknowledgements to a certain Charles Dodgson
Severus looked suspiciously at his mirror. It was behaving extremely oddly; it seemed to be made more of water than of glass. Picking up his wand, he prodded it gently, and found himself slipping through to another place.
He looked around. Was this a penseive? Was he now stuck in someone else’s memory? The place was full of chess pieces; but it was not like a wizard chess set, somehow. These pieces did not appear to be spelled to help: they seemed literally to be cognisant; self-aware. To his right, the White King was writing on a scrap of paper; to his left, one of the White Knights was endeavouring to slither down a poker.
Walking up behind the King quietly, he took hold of the top of his pen, directing the action so that when the King looked down, he discovered that he had written
The White Knight is sliding down the poker. He balances very badly and appears to have no concept of ‘centre of gravity’.
“Very odd,” muttered the King, looking down at his paper. “Very odd indeed.”
Severus could have said the same thing. For if he could affect what was happening, then he clearly was not trapped inside a memory. In which case, if nobody minded - and frankly, even if they did - he wanted to know where he was.
“What the devil is going on?” he growled.
The King jumped in surprise; the other chess pieces fled in disarray.
“Who are you?” quavered the King, his efforts to sound stately undermined by the fact that he was shaking.
“Snape. Professor Snape. And if this is some sort of trick, I will get to the bottom of it, I assure you,” Severus said grimly.
“I… I am needed elsewhere,” muttered the King; and scuttled hurriedly after his chessmates.
Severus glared after him for a second, then walked out of the old-fashioned sitting-room that provided his immediate surroundings. If he was stranded - as he certainly appeared to be - in a strange world, the more he knew about the place the better. The door led him into a garden, and as he walked along the paths, shooting sparks moodily at the flowers, he came to an extraordinary sight.
A large egg, apparently animate and dressed smartly in an old fashioned suit, complete with… well, it was either a belt or a cravat: it was hard to say on an egg-person… was sitting atop a tall stone wall.
“Good grief, a talking egg,” murmured Severus.
The egg glared at him.
“It’s very provoking to be called an egg - very!” it said indignantly.
“Indeed?” said Severus drily. “And by what name should I refer to you?”
“My name, is Humpty Dumpty; and a very fine name it is too.”
“That’s certainly one view of the matter.”
“And the only one,” Humpty Dumpty assured him. “For when I say it is a fine name, I mean that I am a highly intelligent person.”
“I have no idea how you have got from one concept to the other.”
“Of course you haven’t,” the egg replied contemptuously. “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean - neither more nor less. So you needed to wait for me to tell you.”
Severus had had bad days before. He had been bullied in his school days, tortured in his Death Eater days, and lately forced to deal with insubordinate, apparently retarded, children for a living. He was not sure whether any, or indeed all, of these things was quite as bad as having a discussion on the meaning of the English Language with an over-large egg.
“Words,” he said with dangerous quietness, “do not have meaning depending on mood.”
“Maybe yours don’t,” replied Humpty Dumpty with ineffable scorn. “Mine do.”
“No they don’t.”
“Yes they do.”
And getting into a pointless argument with said egg was even worse.
“I’m going home,” said Severus bitterly, wondering if he would ever see sanity again; realising that the sight even of the wretched Potter-boy would be preferable to the situation in which he found himself.
He turned and walked away.
“And I suppose,” Humpty Dumpty called after him disparagingly, “that by that, you mean that you’re going home! Really! I could think of a hundred more interesting things for it to mean.”
Severus did not deign to answer, but he hoped - he very much hoped - that his words had meant exactly what they said. Much more of this, and his own sanity would hang by the merest thread.
Written for: sl_duel
Challenge: an improbable tale
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Severus comes to terms with sentient chess pieces and a talking egg.
Word Count: ~750
Author's Notes: acknowledgements to a certain Charles Dodgson
Severus looked suspiciously at his mirror. It was behaving extremely oddly; it seemed to be made more of water than of glass. Picking up his wand, he prodded it gently, and found himself slipping through to another place.
He looked around. Was this a penseive? Was he now stuck in someone else’s memory? The place was full of chess pieces; but it was not like a wizard chess set, somehow. These pieces did not appear to be spelled to help: they seemed literally to be cognisant; self-aware. To his right, the White King was writing on a scrap of paper; to his left, one of the White Knights was endeavouring to slither down a poker.
Walking up behind the King quietly, he took hold of the top of his pen, directing the action so that when the King looked down, he discovered that he had written
The White Knight is sliding down the poker. He balances very badly and appears to have no concept of ‘centre of gravity’.
“Very odd,” muttered the King, looking down at his paper. “Very odd indeed.”
Severus could have said the same thing. For if he could affect what was happening, then he clearly was not trapped inside a memory. In which case, if nobody minded - and frankly, even if they did - he wanted to know where he was.
“What the devil is going on?” he growled.
The King jumped in surprise; the other chess pieces fled in disarray.
“Who are you?” quavered the King, his efforts to sound stately undermined by the fact that he was shaking.
“Snape. Professor Snape. And if this is some sort of trick, I will get to the bottom of it, I assure you,” Severus said grimly.
“I… I am needed elsewhere,” muttered the King; and scuttled hurriedly after his chessmates.
Severus glared after him for a second, then walked out of the old-fashioned sitting-room that provided his immediate surroundings. If he was stranded - as he certainly appeared to be - in a strange world, the more he knew about the place the better. The door led him into a garden, and as he walked along the paths, shooting sparks moodily at the flowers, he came to an extraordinary sight.
A large egg, apparently animate and dressed smartly in an old fashioned suit, complete with… well, it was either a belt or a cravat: it was hard to say on an egg-person… was sitting atop a tall stone wall.
“Good grief, a talking egg,” murmured Severus.
The egg glared at him.
“It’s very provoking to be called an egg - very!” it said indignantly.
“Indeed?” said Severus drily. “And by what name should I refer to you?”
“My name, is Humpty Dumpty; and a very fine name it is too.”
“That’s certainly one view of the matter.”
“And the only one,” Humpty Dumpty assured him. “For when I say it is a fine name, I mean that I am a highly intelligent person.”
“I have no idea how you have got from one concept to the other.”
“Of course you haven’t,” the egg replied contemptuously. “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean - neither more nor less. So you needed to wait for me to tell you.”
Severus had had bad days before. He had been bullied in his school days, tortured in his Death Eater days, and lately forced to deal with insubordinate, apparently retarded, children for a living. He was not sure whether any, or indeed all, of these things was quite as bad as having a discussion on the meaning of the English Language with an over-large egg.
“Words,” he said with dangerous quietness, “do not have meaning depending on mood.”
“Maybe yours don’t,” replied Humpty Dumpty with ineffable scorn. “Mine do.”
“No they don’t.”
“Yes they do.”
And getting into a pointless argument with said egg was even worse.
“I’m going home,” said Severus bitterly, wondering if he would ever see sanity again; realising that the sight even of the wretched Potter-boy would be preferable to the situation in which he found himself.
He turned and walked away.
“And I suppose,” Humpty Dumpty called after him disparagingly, “that by that, you mean that you’re going home! Really! I could think of a hundred more interesting things for it to mean.”
Severus did not deign to answer, but he hoped - he very much hoped - that his words had meant exactly what they said. Much more of this, and his own sanity would hang by the merest thread.