He had neatly divided the parchment into quadrants: in the top left the initials of all the tagged Death Eaters who were alive were listed; in the bottom left, the initials of all of the Death Eaters who were incarcerated in Azkaban. On the right side, the top section held the initials D.L and P.P, referring to the Dark Lord and Pettigrew, while the bottom section held the initials of all the Death Eaters who were missing or dead.
He frowned.
He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Ever since he had heard of the note Potter had received on his birthday, something had been nagging at the back of his mind…something. The meditation exercises that he had done for Occlumency hadn't helped bring anything to the surface of his mind though and he had hoped that the list would prompt whatever bit of buried information that was irritating him like a stone in a shoe to appear.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working.
What he really needed was a sounding board. He missed Lily in that regard. He had few friends to confide problems to and thus had become intensely self-sufficient. Perhaps a colleague could be used, but given the sensitive nature of what he was considering he couldn't simply approach one of them even if he inclined, which he was not. He had a distant if professional relationship with the other staff and he preferred it that way. There were two exceptions but Albus was out, meeting with an old friend, and Minerva might have been an acceptable substitute in a pinch, but she was out once again at dinner with Potter and Black.
Severus's lip curled up in disgust.
He set the glass down, the beverage untouched. Maybe a walk would clear his head and provide some order to his thoughts. He set off from his quarters and made for the entrance hall. The corridors were filled with elves preparing the castle for the upcoming school year.
It wouldn't be long, Severus thought morosely, and he would have to deal with the students again; his peace and quiet disturbed.
He hated teaching.
Loathed it.
He hadn't become a Potions Master to teach others – well, apprentices, perhaps, but not children. He had wanted to research and invent; to create potions that would help the world. If there had been one blessing of his time within the Dark Lord's ranks it was that he had been given a lot of leeway in that regard, although on the downside he'd had to brew many potions on the order of the Dark Lord.
His tenure at Hogwarts had begun because of an order of the Dark Lord and it had continued beyond his defeat because Severus had needed a safe place once the news of his spying had reached the ears of his fellow Death Eaters. He was a target for their anger and resentment since Potter had been squirrelled away and Black was in Azkaban. However, he had managed to fix things, reaching out to Lucius who eventually let it be known that Severus was a double agent with the Dark Lord's knowledge. Five years before, finally comfortable that he wouldn't be killed if he were to strike out on his own, Severus had tried to resign for the first time.
Albus had carefully deconstructed his argument over the next year; there was no successor lined up – surely Severus would stay until Albus could find a replacement; Severus himself had no position to go to, the castle provided an income and accommodation as well as safety…and finally when Severus had insisted that he must resign; Harry…would Severus not find it easier to keep Lily's son safe if he were to remain as a teacher in the place where Harry would one day be educated?
He had given in.
Severus huffed out a breath as he made his way across the grounds to the lake. He was barely aware of the weakening sun, the breeze that hardly disturbed his hair, and the hush of rustling leaves in nearby trees. He started out moodily into the expanse of silver water.
It was probably unfair but Severus blamed Potter for the fact that Severus was stuck teaching.
A part of him – the part that sounded remarkably like Lily – whispered in his head that it was completely unfair of him to blame Potter. It had been the Dark Lord's order that had brought Severus to Hogwarts in the first place; it had been Severus's choice to serve the Dark Lord; it had been Albus's manipulations that had entangled him into remaining; and, it had been his choice to stay.
Possibly, Severus conceded, he found it a fitting penance for his crimes. Hogwarts was his prison, a placed where he was reminded daily of Lily and the mistakes he had made. She was dead; he didn't deserve a profession he enjoyed and a life free of irritating children who shouldn't be allowed near a cauldron.
Of course, he wasn't the only one who had been consigned to a hellish prison since Lily's death.
His fists clenched as he remembered the Ministry report that he had read about Potter's home with the Dursleys. He snorted suddenly.
What home?
That house had been nothing but a place to live at best, and at worst, yes; a prison. Potter had received only minimal care and upon reading the lack of love and nurturing in the boy's upbringing, Severus had been unwillingly outraged that Petunia had dared treat Lily's child that way. Albus had constantly assured him that Harry was well-cared for. It was why he had assumed that Potter was spoiled just as his father had been when he had attended Hogwarts. He should have known better; he should have known Petunia would never set aside her petty jealousy of Lily.
He had even felt some regret that he had continued their pattern of verbal abuse himself at Hogwarts; belittling and berating the boy for the smallest of infractions; being unfair to Potter just because he was Potter by asking him questions that only someone who had studied months ahead would be able to answer, by marking his essays harshly and grading his potions the same – if he bothered to grade them and didn't declare perfectly acceptable potions a waste.
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