How I Spent My Spring Holidays, By Prof. Severus Snape

Chapter Twelve: A Very Horrible Idea

Draco did not move. A soaring cadence of violins sounded from the televisum, indicating that a climax had been reached in the dismal life of a Slater. "Mmmph," Draco grunted absently, "Yeah... yeah...in a minute."

"Now, boy!" Bellatrix snapped.

She ignored me and directed the floating corpse past me towards the shattered remnants of my front door. No doubt she knew that I no longer posed a threat. By casting a Killing Curse, I had debilitated myself for several minutes, perhaps half an hour, and in that time it was clear that Bellatrix intended to return to the Dark Lord and condemn me.

My mind raced, thinking of ways to detain her. Unfortunately, none of the hasty plans I formed (tackling her, throttling her, pulling her hair) was any use when facing a maniacal witch with a wand. Impotently, I pulled off of one of the high-heeled, buckled shoes the corpse was wearing and threw it at Bellatrix's head.

She flicked her wand in a bored way, sending the shoe ricocheting back towards me. It hit me on the nose. Testily, Bellatrix repeated, "Come along, Draco!"

The youth slumped even lower in the chair. "Not now," he grumbled. "Juley's going to tell Ruby how he tricked her into loving him."

Flying into a rage, Bellatrix swept over to her nephew and stood directly in front of him. "I am offering you the chance," she said haughtily, "to salvage the tattered shreds of your family's reputation. Stand beside me before the Dark Lord, and we will share in the rewards for Dumbledore's death. Stay here," she nodded towards me contemptuously, "and you will perish with this blood trait-"

Draco gestured roughly, bidding her to move. "Get out of the way," he interrupted. "I can't see- this is the good bit!"

I wondered whether I should make a run for it while Bellatrix was distracted. Clutching my stinging nose, I edged towards the front door.

"HOW DARE YOU WATCH THIS MUGGLE RUBBISH!" Bellatrix bellowed. Swinging around, she pointed her wand at the televisum. "You may be as weak-minded as your contemptible father," she taunted, "but while Black blood flows in your veins, you will not scrabble in the mire of such Muggle filth. Conflag -"

"NOOOO!" Draco wailed. He lunged at his aunt with all his strength, knocking her off her feet. In a blur of flapping robes and flailing limbs, Bellatrix crashed into the televisum screen. The machine exploded, sending so much purple smoke pouring out that a moment later both Draco and Bellatrix were completely obscured.

Choking, I covered my mouth and ran towards the kitchen, thinking that I might be able to grab my own wand and scramble over the back fence into the seedy anonymity of the Chatsworth Estates. "Oof!" I exclaimed as I collided with an old wizard standing in the kitchen doorway.

"I don't think she will be bothering you any more, Severus," Albus Dumbledore advised serenely.

"You!" I gasped.

"Veronica redoubled the strength of her Stupefaction Spell just a short while ago," Dumbledore explained. "You saw her do it, when she used the television's remote control. I'm afraid that Bellatrix has just unleashed a very great deal of stultifying magic upon herself, and I doubt that she'll even be able to count to ten when all that smoke clears."

From within the purple cloud, I heard a woman's voice giggling and singing:

"Incy Arcomantula climbed up the garden spout.

Down came a Basilisk and scared the spider out.

Out came the children to see what made the noise,

And Incy Acromantula ate up the girls and boys."

I could also hear Draco, who sobbed, "The telly.... Sh-she b-b-broke the telly!"

"Veronica?" I asked. "Is she still here- " I stopped suddenly. I could barely make out the outline of the corpse, bobbing in the purple haze, but I knew immediately whose body floated there. Bitterly I observed, "Congratulations, Headmaster. It appears that, yet again, you have treated your supporters as mere cannon fodder."

The old man's eyes narrowed. "She did not die for me," he said tersely. "She died for you - a final act of her perfect love."

"Love!" I sputtered. "She didn't even like me!"

"Consider this, Severus," Dumbledore said somberly. "If Veronica had merely wanted to save me, she needed to do no more than stun Bellatrix while her back was turned. Veronica found your wand - it would have been an easy thing to do." Dumbledore waved through the kitchen door, indicating an open Bovril tin resting on the sink.

"But," he continued seriously, "once Bellatrix called the Unbreakable Vow into play, the only way to save you was to trick our enemies into thinking the vow was fulfilled. Even if Veronica had killed Bellatrix, the Bonder's punishment would have continued to crush you. So instead, Veronica transfigured her clothes into likenesses of mine, drank the Polyjuice Potion in her pocket, and stood in the kitchen doorway. Seeing her there, I knew her intentions and approved of them. On her signal, I Disapparated into the kitchen, and she instantaneously took my place on the sofa."

Still aghast, I stammered, "B-but, why would anyone want to fall in love with me? Th-that's a - a very horrible idea! Was she mad? She must have been -"

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is more wonderful and terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature -"

"Love," I spat. "Yes. I know."

"It is the power that Voldemort knows not," Dumbledore intoned. In the background, I heard Bellatrix lisping an old nursery rhyme about a Quintaped. "And it is the reason why I have kept you close, forgiven your transgressions and protected you all these years. Veronica merely followed my example."

A coughing fit overwhelmed me. Between choking I gulped, "Are - you - telling me - you love me too?"

"Indeed I do." Dumbledore's expression, unfortunately, showed not the slightest trace of sarcasm. "With very good reason."

I could not believe what I was being told. Of all the ghastly things I had seen and heard that afternoon, this was surely the worst. My customary aplomb quite deserted me and, since my legs were rapidly turning to jelly, I clutched a bookcase for support. Flabbergasted, I asked, "WHY? I've done nothing - nothing at all - to earn your trust, let alone your love. I think you know full well that my allegiances have always been divided. I pick and choose whom to serve. M-most of the time, I think it's fair to say -" I paused, wondering whether there was anything to gain in mincing my words. Deciding there was not, I continued, "I mean - I've tried to murder you - twice! Pretty much the whole period I've known you - I've acted like - like an utter baѕtard!"

"That is completely true," he calmly agreed. "You are the least loveable man in the whole of Britain, perhaps on the entire earth."

"Then... why?" As I blinked into Dumbledore's relentlessly staring eyes, I could hear Draco still whimpering in the background.

"Love brings a magic beyond all others," Dumbledore explained. "By loving you, I increase the strength of my sorcery. But my love must be of the highest order... Love that vaunteth not... is not provoked... takes no account of iniquity." He smiled wanly. "Alastor once asked me why I trusted you. I replied that I did not actually trust you one iota, even though I have repeatedly taken you into my confidence. But I love you, despite your numerous acts of... what did you call it? Despite your utter bastardry. Because I know that, if I am capable of loving one as unworthy of love as Severus Snape, and taking no account of his iniquity, then I am truly the greatest wizard in the world."

With steady gait we walked towards Veronica's body and poured a libation over the lined face. The purple smoke was dispersing, and the faint perfume of fetid Boomslang told me that Dumbledore had just doused the corpse in Polyjuice Potion antidote. Soon the features of the corpse transformed into those of an ill-groomed, young woman.

"Dear, sweet, Veronica," Dumbledore crooned to the skanky, dead female. "What a miserable way to live up to your name." He outstretched his hand and his wand flew from the floor near where Bellatrix squatted. Dumbledore caught the wand and immediately transfigured Veronica's corpse into a small, pink hand mirror.

Tucking the mirror (and his beard) into his belt, Dumbledore then set about contacting members of the Order. Bellatrix, as happy as a toddler who had been promised an excursion to the park, was sent off to Azkaban under Shacklebolt's escort. Draco was persuaded to continue hiding from the wizarding world at the home of Arabella Figg, who owned not only a televisum but also a Playstatus Two game console (whatever that may be). The boy gleefully ran into Spinner's End and flew away on Mopsy the dragon (with Hagrid steering) to Mrs Figg's abode.

When everybody else had gone Dumbledore pottered out to my kitchen and made himself a cup of tea. I sat silently in my demolished sitting room, flipping desultorily through the pages of Magick Moste Evile, and waited until he returned.

"What will happen now?" I then asked.

He sipped, sighed, and settled back into the sofa's threadbare cushions. "I should spend some time with Harry, I suppose," he replied. "Tom will be on the warpath any day now, I expect. With most of his soul gone, he'll be feeling rather vulnerable, and that tends to bring out the worst in him."

"No," I said irritably, "I meant - what happens to me?"

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore chuckled. "Of course you did... Well, perhaps the safest place for you to be is right here. There's every chance that Tom won't immediately suspect you of helping to destroy the Horcruxes. Bellatrix and Draco are hardly in a position to inform on you. If you stay where you are, perhaps you'll be able to just watch events take their course."

"And crawl out when the apocalypse is over..." I murmured, remembering how Veronica had scolded me.

"You know - if my side wins this war, that is - I intend to reopen Hogwarts after the Easter holidays." Dumbledore waved his crippled hand. The table righted itself, hopped across the floor and halted in front of the sofa. He put his teacup on the table. "First of all, I will need to explain my extraordinary leave of absence to Minerva."

"You'll be requiring a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor," I mentioned casually.

The old wizard winked at me. "Love is generous, my friend," he replied.

He stood and wandered through the open front doorway into the street. I watched him Disapparate.

Casting my eyes around the wreckage of my home, I wondered if I should tidy things up before dinner. However, my brief holiday had left me totally exhausted. I almost regretted beating Wormtail senseless, because now I had nobody to wait on me.

As if on cue, the hunched, bruised and bloody figure of a man staggered in the back door. One of Wormtail's eyes remained swollen and shut, and the way he swayed suggested he was suffering a severe concussion.

"Severus," he said uncertainly. "There you - there you are. Now... what was I going to ask?" He wrung his hands together.

"Don't lean on those shelves," I admonished him. "You're bleeding on the books."

"Am I?" He held a silver hand to his gory forehead. "Oh - that's right. What do you want for lunch? Cheese sandwich?"

"Cheese is the devil's plaything, Wormtail," I said with authority (making a reference to the script of a popular drama without due attribution, and thus passing off the wit of those screenwriters as my own). "Tonight, I suggest we feast - Who knows, tomorrow we may die. Let's have Bovril on toast, shall we? And perhaps a glass of elf-made wine?"

"Bovril...all right," he muttered vaguely, then returned to the kitchen.

"And bring me parchment and a quill," I called after him. "There is an application for employment that I need to write, before I head down to The Jockey's karaoke contest." I leant back in my chair, stretching out my legs and crossing my ankles. "The holidays are nearly over," I whispered to myself. "Time to get back to work."

FINIS

A note from your author:

Profuse gratitude is extended to Madam Birgit, who prompted me to take this narrative to its not altogether logical conclusion.

Thank you also to Mr Forias, Miss Discordant Harmony , Miss Ksellers, Professor Kelleypen, Madam Nundu, , Miss Crystalnova, Miss Arya, Miss Door, Miss Angelina Weasley, Miss Bandersnatch (The PATTRON Saiiint of New Keyyborads), Miss Annie Jaye, Miss Emelye, Miss Dweo, Miss Dernhelm, Madam Sannali aka Morwen, Miss Liposcelis, Miss Airri, Miss Beatrice Eagle, Madam Nasnoona and my mother for all making encouraging (albeit barely coherent) noises whilst this narrative was being written.

Final thanks to anybody who leaves an intelligent review, and to Mr Francis Gallagher, who I am sure reviewed to the best of his ability.