Date: September 23, 2005 Characters: Susan and Severus Location: Susan's farm Status: Private Summary: Snape gets a verbal thrashing. As usual. Completion: Incomplete
Severus was bent over a parchment that was covered in his runic handwriting, furiously scribbling away some extra notation as he titrated two different extracts. He'd lost track of time, of course, as he always did when he was intent on his work. Only his war-steady nerves prevented him from knocking something flying in surprise at Susan's entrance.
He quirked a brow at her and said in his drollest voice, "If you feel your cooking skills are only fit for the hogs, I shall not prevent you from it. Now, are you pissy because of some particular perceived slight, or shall I fetch you a pre-menstrual mood-enhancer?"
"Oh, I don't know," she said dramatically. "Perhaps I've just been imagining the fact that you haven't been to dinner in a week and have been hiding from me like a little girl." Her teeth gritted. "If you want to have your stupid little secrets with Remus, that's fine, but if you're going to keep being a moron, I shan't be delighted."
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously and he stood, drawing himself to his full height. Towering over someone nearly a foot shorter than he was was an especial talent of his.
"Ms Bones," he said softly. "I have been called many things in my time, but it takes an exceedingly suicidal fool to call me a little girl. I am not hiding from you. I am busy. However, if you would like to continue to try to find your inner shrew animagus, I suggest you take it outside."
Quite suddenly, Susan's eyes were filled with tears. She dashed them away furiously. "Fine. I'm sorry I disturbed you. You can get your supper at Remus's, and we can stop this bloody idiotic charade. You can tell him he needn't owl me about you anymore either. Obviously my worry doesn't matter. Well, obviously," she choked out, turning to leave.
Severus nodded. "How exactly do you envision my... role in this potential child's life? I have spent a great deal of energy keeping Lupin's child at bay. the boy has seen me once, and that was during a full moon when Remus could not be present. I am not a father figure and have never tried to be." He smirked. "As you well know and likely remember from my classes."
He was still feeling off-kilter but years of espionage instincts were smoothing things out for him. Talk first, glean as much information as possible while trying to find one's bearings, and then, if necessary, run like hell.
Susan groaned. Apparently they were going to be having this discussion. "I don't know, all right? I don't really plan like that. Things happen, and then you get on with it. A baby comes, it cries, and someone feeds it--probably me, as I've got breasts. It sorts itself, you know. I suppose it would depend on whether the baby hated you or not," she said, a bit spitefully.
"Oh lord, I don't like to think about your breasts," Severus moaned. "Of course, you won't be hindered by such contraptions as bras, so at least the child won't have to wait for its meal. I believe the Muggles refer to such things as 'fast food.'"
He arched a brow. "Well, I shouldn't think that would be a problem. I've never yet met a child that hasn't quaked at the mere sight of me. It would have to call me 'Professor Snape', you realise. I'll not have any sort of 'Dada' rubbish."
Susan pressed her palms to her temples. "Could we please save the light-hearted insults for a time when I haven't been worrying sick about you and then rowing at you to give me babies? I'm not up to it right now." And if she let herself be up to it, the conversation would go far nastier than she wanted it to.
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He quirked a brow at her and said in his drollest voice, "If you feel your cooking skills are only fit for the hogs, I shall not prevent you from it. Now, are you pissy because of some particular perceived slight, or shall I fetch you a pre-menstrual mood-enhancer?"
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"Ms Bones," he said softly. "I have been called many things in my time, but it takes an exceedingly suicidal fool to call me a little girl. I am not hiding from you. I am busy. However, if you would like to continue to try to find your inner shrew animagus, I suggest you take it outside."
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He was still feeling off-kilter but years of espionage instincts were smoothing things out for him. Talk first, glean as much information as possible while trying to find one's bearings, and then, if necessary, run like hell.
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He arched a brow. "Well, I shouldn't think that would be a problem. I've never yet met a child that hasn't quaked at the mere sight of me. It would have to call me 'Professor Snape', you realise. I'll not have any sort of 'Dada' rubbish."
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