(no subject)
[Who:] Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy
[What:] Bad News Bears? A trainwreck?
[When:] Immediately after this trainwreck. So it's like one trainwreck right after the other? Maybe one train smashing into a pre-existing trainwreck?
[Where:] Lucius Malfoy's room.
[Warnings:] Raging douchebaggery
Severus stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door, torn between wanting to pull his mirror from his pocket and call her back and wanting to destroy every last piece of her that remained in the room. Minutes (or seconds, perhaps) ticked by, until finally, he stormed out of the room, himself, certain she wouldn't be out there waiting for him. He veered left, away from the stairs and towards the one room he ought to have avoided right now.
In retrospect, Severus should have gone to Kay. He should - and probably could - have gone to Sirius Black. There were scores of other people who would have given him far better advice regarding the detonation he'd just given his marriage than Lucius Malfoy.
Unfortunately, he needed the familiar. He needed someone who knew him, who was - had been - a friend. Someone who was married and could explain this to him in words he could understand. Someone who could pass him Firewhiskey instead of some horrible Muggle liquor and talk to him as an...
Equal.
A like-minded individual. What a shame that Lucius was a felon. A Death Eater. Severus wondered briefly what that said about him. Like with like, perhaps. He knocked on the other man's door, not realizing he looked far more shaken and pale than he suspected. Not realizing he'd left his cloak and coat in his room and was down to trousers and shirtsleeves. That his hand was shaking when he raked it through his hair. He didn't realize he looked a mess.
After all, he felt calm.
Or, more appropriately, he felt as though he was in a state of shock.
[What:] Bad News Bears? A trainwreck?
[When:] Immediately after this trainwreck. So it's like one trainwreck right after the other? Maybe one train smashing into a pre-existing trainwreck?
[Where:] Lucius Malfoy's room.
[Warnings:] Raging douchebaggery
Severus stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door, torn between wanting to pull his mirror from his pocket and call her back and wanting to destroy every last piece of her that remained in the room. Minutes (or seconds, perhaps) ticked by, until finally, he stormed out of the room, himself, certain she wouldn't be out there waiting for him. He veered left, away from the stairs and towards the one room he ought to have avoided right now.
In retrospect, Severus should have gone to Kay. He should - and probably could - have gone to Sirius Black. There were scores of other people who would have given him far better advice regarding the detonation he'd just given his marriage than Lucius Malfoy.
Unfortunately, he needed the familiar. He needed someone who knew him, who was - had been - a friend. Someone who was married and could explain this to him in words he could understand. Someone who could pass him Firewhiskey instead of some horrible Muggle liquor and talk to him as an...
Equal.
A like-minded individual. What a shame that Lucius was a felon. A Death Eater. Severus wondered briefly what that said about him. Like with like, perhaps. He knocked on the other man's door, not realizing he looked far more shaken and pale than he suspected. Not realizing he'd left his cloak and coat in his room and was down to trousers and shirtsleeves. That his hand was shaking when he raked it through his hair. He didn't realize he looked a mess.
After all, he felt calm.
Or, more appropriately, he felt as though he was in a state of shock.