Threnody for an Ordinary World

Threnody for an Ordinary World

by Queenish

Prologue: Denial

It was the beginning of December and the frigid cold was almost too much to bear. Whorls of bluish snow whipped around the bare, twisted branches of the trees, making them creak and sway forebodingly. Professor Severus Snape pulled the lapel of his black overcoat closer to his throat to keep the cold away.

It was 6:30 in the evening and he was just making his way home. The towering brick walls of Hogwarts Academy cast heavy, dark shadows across his path. There was very little light to speak of, but Severus knew his way through the winding paths from years of interpreting them. So while the dark night didn't faze him, Severus instead was occupied by his heavy workload and the prospect of nothing but a frozen TV-dinner and a bottle of Scotch waiting for him at home.

Severus made it to his car and grudgingly wiped the gathering snow from his windshield with one gloved hand. He threw his leather briefcase in the seat next to him and turned the key three times before it started with a tired sputter. The drive was a practice in being cautious: the cumulating snow was a hazard, as well as the icy road and shoddy transmission of his slowly dilapidating car.

Once back at his rather unwelcoming flat, Severus deposited his briefcase and overcoat in the hall and proceeded to immediately pour himself a tumbler of Scotch.

He sat in his favorite armchair and watched the snow falling thick and fast outside his window. He wasn't at all looking forward to the drive back to school the next morning. Knowing a hangover would only increase his misery when he awoke, Severus refilled his tumbler anyway and retrieved a box of rather stale biscuits to quell his hunger pains. He simply couldn't muster the energy to do much else.

Drinking alone was never a good sign; he learned that unfortunate lesson from his father at the age of eight. But that did nothing to stop him, even if he knew it should. The warm buzz of alcohol was the only thing that seemed to preserve his sanity these days, as he sat in his flat, trying desperately not to succumb to the maudlin realm of self-pity.

He had learned that it was much easier to live in denial than actually admit that he was hopelessly and desperately alone.

***

Hermione Granger sat precariously in the back seat of the vibrating, dingy Ford Anglia, squashed between her boyfriend and his sister, who were already rather high. Hermione wished that she had stayed home, it was a Wednesday after all, and they all had school to attend the next day. But Ron and Ginny were remarkably convincing, especially if stoned-out-of-her-mind-Ginny claimed she would sleep with every bloke at the party if Hermione didn't come to look after her. Then, Ron leaned against the doorframe, causing his ginger fringe to fall over one eye. She found that to be hopelessly attractive so, against her better judgment, she agreed to go with them.

Now she was leaning against Ron, who was smoking a joint and blowing smoke out the window, while his best friend, Harry, was driving his father's car.

"Remind me again why Harry's driving and not you?" she asked Ron in irritation.

Before Ron could answer, Harry called from the driver's seat, "So he can get stoned without wasting any time, obviously." She saw him grin at her in the rear-view mirror.

"How do we get home, then?" came a voice from the front seat, Harry's girlfriend, Cho. "You do all plan on getting incredibly hammered, I presume?"

Harry faked a look of indignation. "Me? You expect me to get hammered?"

"Obviously!" Cho was laughing quite hysterically now.

"I won't be getting pissed, for record." Hermione said, raising her voice over the noise of Cho laughing and the jarring shudder of the Ford Anglia.

It was Ginny's turn to laugh now, rather shrilly as well. "Hermione, you'll at least get buzzed, I mean, c'mon..."

"I have school tomorrow, Gin, and you do too if I'm not very much mistaken."

"Yeah, well, I'll have a hangover, nothing new there. You should just loosen up." With that, she whipped out a tube of glittering green mascara and a hand mirror, thus proceeding to add more gunk to her already crusty lashes.

Hermione sighed, trying to ignore Cho's relatively annoying story about how she had to sneak out of her bedroom window in order to come along. Hermione glanced at Ron, his profile briefly elucidated in hazy white as he blew out another plume of smoke. She never appreciated when he was high or drunk, but she tolerated it, mostly because everyone she knew was doing something. Hermione got buzzed, she took a few hits every now and again... but being alone around a high-as-kite-Ron was like a regrettable-morning-after waiting to happen.

As for the party; it was at Dean's house, someone she knew and pretty much trusted. She'd have to look after Ginny though; while Harry and Cho snogged each other's brains out, Ginny would be trying to get as much attention as possible. She still fancied herself in love with her brother's best friend and was admittedly exceedingly dimwitted when she drank and smoked.

The Ford Anglia came to a sputtering halt in front of Dean Thomas's house. A loud pulse of music could be heard from the inside, as well as other tell-tale signs of a rowdy, teenage party. Hermione knew she was being uptight. It wasn't the first time her friends had accused her of such behavior. Maybe she could loosen up, if only a bit...