Severus Snape POPs! Open RP.

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

The Unpopcorning of Severus Snape
approved by the mods, etc.

He was coiled small, his knees pressed to his forehead, his forearms pressed close to the outsides of his calves. It must be so. How else could he be so compact, so dense? It was dark. It was silent, and the only difference was an occasional disorienting tumbling when some small earthquake rolled him over and over down a very rocky hill. He didn't understand why he couldn't put out a hand or foot to stop himself on these occasions. And sometimes he detected from the force of gravity that he was upside-down and he wondered why the blood did not rush to his head.

It was always as if he had just curled up, but time must have passed because he noted events - the variations of sudden rolling, the occasional temperature changes. Could it be a petrification spell? But that would not have rendered him blind, or deaf. What was it? Sometimes he tried to puzzle it out, to count occasions of movement, but he lost track, conciousness, concentration. That was not like him at all, and he wondered at himself. It must be a curse, but there was no pain.

The temperature rose. Higher this time. He was surprised he wasn't sweating, his robe clinging to him, but he was able to detect no robe. Was he naked? No.... Merlin, it was hot. And he felt so... tight. Why couldn't he move? He expected his breath to arrest with the heat, his lungs to seize with the pressure. But he did not seem to be breathing. Pressure? He seemed to be... Was it infection, a swelling within him? No pain. No pain. He was confused.

Merlin. He felt... Why didn't he ache? Why didn't it hurt? Dark curses he could understand. He had invented enough, felt enough, but...

Then suddenly he was aware. It smelled like a fair... He had once been to a fair. He unclenched his arms from his legs, straightened his spine, curled around himself, lifted his head and...

BANG! There was an explosion beneath him, no through him, no... It was too sudden to analyse. Severus was launched into the air, his arms and legs thrown splayed, his hair flung up and spread wide, his mouth open in a wide O of almost shock, though it was not unpleasant, more startling. He crashed down into a pile of hard yellow kernals, bruising his skin , so tight over his bones. And now his black robes stuck wet to him, no, not wet...

He passed his hand through the hair soaking over his face, sticking and obscuring his vision, dripping into his eyes. Rich shining yellow drops flew behind him, almost beautiful. A door. There was a door. He waded over to it and was surprised to find it unlocked. It was the old stone corridor of Hogwarts. He wandered out disoriented, hoping to find the dungeons.

Comments

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

"I had been popcorn as well," Albus assures him. "It is not a stigma or an unusual thing, not here. Hogwarts has changed in my absence, and I am no longer Headmaster." How much to tell Severus, when he must still be reeling from his unpopping? How much strange and unfamiliar knowledge to release, when it might become cause for panic, and waiting might ease the transition? In the light of day, the monomaniacal Sorting Hat is laughable. In a post-popcorn haze, the same thing might sound a veritable menace. "When I had unpopcorned, I found myself covered in butter as well. My physical infirmities were in no way healed. The popcorn transformation is not any kind of Transfiguration I have ever learned or taught."

Albus had been Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, once upon a time, before he became Headmaster.

"I believe butter is good for the skin," he says, smiling gently.

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

Seveus is patient and trusts. At Albus' last words, he grins a little, wryly. He had never been careful nor attentive to his skin. But he is alarmed. How... "How is it that you are not Headmaster? May I ask who has... not replaced you, but... who holds your position?" Yes, he likes that. Accurate.

He is honest. "I am still so sorry about your poor hand. I can't say how glad I am to see you again. I have no idea what happened, but I would have come back, just for that."

"Albus?" He has a question, probably one of the first of many like ones. If you are not Headmaster, if I am not a professor... what are our positions? What is it that we do all the day?" Purpose. He doesn't understand.

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

Perhaps it is always the outsider who pays closest attention to the niceties of tact and hierarchy, even while he himself cannot navigate them successfully. Albus at once recognizes Severus' attempt at tact in phrasing the question — not who replaced you, but who holds your position — and appreciates the thought. Yet it is unnecessary. "Hogwarts' commitment to diversity has deepened, I am proud to say. The current Headmistress of the school is a Furby female by the name of Kahnooloo. Your own position as instructor of Defense Against the Dark Arts is presently occupied by one Captain Jack Harkness, and the professorship in Potions is occupied by one Lord Valentine Wolfe."

Albus allowed those names to sink in, the unfamiliarity of them. Had Harkness or Wolfe been from a wizarding family, their names would have been familiar.

"Harkness and Wolfe are not Furbies," he added. "They are human, at least to surface appearance. We have a wonderful new Transfiguration professor with great experience in alchemy, a blue lizard woman by the name of Ssillissa. Yes, Hogwarts has become fantastically diverse beyond my most daring hopes!"

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

These are strange words. Severus cannot quite divine their meaning, but he is willing to learn, willing todwell in this strange new world. The castle is familiar, the posts, his friend.

He smiles, despite being at a loss. "Albus... if I am not to teach, may I... do research? Potions? You know I have never wanted to be useless, kept for... sympathy, no matter how familiar or warm the home. I don't want to be a ward, but a cog. I shall have to meet the headmistress." As long as he can remember, Albus had been headmaster.

"What do you do here?" He looks at Albus. His face breaks in a smile again, unusually simple, almost helpless. "It is so good to see you again. I wouldn't have thought it possible."

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

"What do I do here? Meddling." Albus grins. "It is my area of expertise, wouldn't you say? There are teaching positions open, but I would rather not take them. I prefer to reside here as a professor emeritus, affiliated with the institution, yet subject to no particular authority. I do offer tutorials in various subjects to the rare student seeking such guidance. The composition of the student body has changed greatly since our day, Severus. Many of the students here hold advanced degrees in the outside world. They too conduct research. Ravenclaw common room has a laboratory -- as well as a bar! Yes, the school has much changed under the Sorting Hat's reign. We are much needed as a balancing force, an agent of equilibrium if you will."

He is charmed, and touched, by Severus's smile. It is a smile he knows few people are ever permitted to see. Severus's reserve is too great, and his pain too deep, his well-earned mistrust of other people too ingrained. The post-popcorn disorientation may also factor in here, softening the edges of the old caustic Severus whom Albus formerly knew.

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

"That sounds like a fine life. Tutoring the promising students - how many times did I wish for that? Defence against the Dark Arts was always my specialty, and potions. I am not sure what else I would teach, but perhaps as you say, tutorials would be even more satisfying." He presses his palms together and notices again the layer of grease soaking into his skin.

"Tell me of Slytherin?" If he were more open the question would have been wistful. The dungeons had been his home, more than the crumbling house in Spinner's End.

But wait. The Sorting Hat's.. what... reign? What did that mean? He pictures drunken Ravenclaws, chasing one another with Latin puns. A bar? Not that he wouldn't like one himself. "The Sorting Hat?"

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

"At some point, the Sorting Hat took over the school. Perhaps it always held a magic greater than it allowed itself to employ. Perhaps a restraint imposed by the Founders was loosed. I cannot say. In any event, the Hat now runs the school, though the Headmistress does bear an indeterminate degree of authority. Before, the Hat merely determined where a student belonged within the school. Now the Hat decrees whether a student may enroll at all. There is a nominal application process, with questions of strange import, and the presently enrolled students are invited to share their opinions on house placement for the new applicant before the Hat makes its decision." Albus shook his head. "It sounds bizarre, I know; it is indeed bizarre; but it is not without its salutary effects, Severus. Everything has a purpose. We must trust in that knowledge, even if we do not trust the Sorting Hat. As for Slytherin, its composition is different than it was. There are students there you would not have recognized in the old days, and many of them are not of wizarding ancestry."

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

"Democracy?" Severus is incredulous. "The Sorting Hat is one thing. If you trust the Headmistress, I will trust her, but... students?" It is a strange new world into which he has awoken. Is it real? He peels the greasy black sleeve from his greasy white wrist and pinches, hard. The old test.

"Ouuuch!" It is a hissing sound and he jerks, not really expecting the sudden pain. All right. He is awake.

"Who then is Head of Slytherin?" He is full of questions - general questions of such randomness he is ashamed of having to ask them. These things are drawn from him, though. His home has changed, the only stable thing he has known. And his House was also his Home. It was as if he was standing on a sidewalk, his hand poised to knock on a door to which he had once held a key, looking into a picture window where he had once lived and another family was eating - perhaps a large family, and jovial where his had been small and quiet. He had never had such a family, but he could imagine.

He is inclined to draw into himself, though Albus is here - the man he had mourned returned to him, the man whose death had darkened everything, left it stark and cold. He looks up to see, to learn. He still, despite the bruising pinch, has the feeling it is a trick of light or vibrations, an elaborate enchantment.

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

"I did not say I trusted the Headmistress," Albus corrects very gently. "I must trust there is a purpose for what has happened here, that is all. Further, it is not exactly a democracy. The Hat and the students call the process 'voting', yet the Hat pays little attention to the students' votes." It is so much to digest, he knows.

He knows Severus has always been proud. More, Albus has always believed in letting his students find their own way. It makes them stronger. It makes them self-reliant. (Why else would he have let Harry muddle through so many years of misinformation and confusion?)

"There is no Head of Slytherin, and likely will be none. None of the Houses have a Head except for Ravenclaw, I believe. You may meet its Head in time. You are still a Slytherin, anyhow, and you should still have a room there. The dormitories are not as they were, either, since the students are mostly adults. Students now have rooms, some shared, some single. You may have some privacy there."

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps, Albus, I will go down to Slytherin - to my room - to wash and rest a little." He shifts his feet uncomfortably. There is so much to think about and he feels awkward standing bewildered in the hallway. The students are adults... not of wizarding families... He doesn't understand. Maybe they are exiles like himself, taken in. Ravenclaw seems to have risen in prominence. A bar, a Head of House, where the other Houses had none, their own laboratory. He tries not to be resentful. But he is glad too that, if he is here in unclear capacity, he would not have to submit to authority of another in his old position.

The quiet dark dungeons, a room with a door. Maybe his books would still be there, his desk. And he must bathe, he reminds himself, at once.

"Should I afterwards make myself known to the Headmistress?"

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

"The Headmistress has likely already been apprised of your arrival. Her secretary keeps her abreast of such developments as popcornings and their reverse."

He could tell Severus more about Kojiro later, if need be. For now, it would be just more senseless information atop an already crushing heap of such information.

"Resting would be wise, I think. Logic suggests a great expenditure of energy must take place when a person is unpopcorned."

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

"There was an explosion, and... energy does not come from nowhere. I feel weary, and oily." Severus frowns. He is always being accused of oiliness and an instance of clear demonstration can only be ridiculed.

"Perhaps afterwards, we might have some tea. I am still a little concerned I will not have a real place here without teaching or official duties. Surely they would not simply keep me here, and I would not want to live here for... pity." His voice hisses a tiny bit and he speaks this softly.

"It is different for you. You contribute by your mere presence, by your wisdom, by your experience, by..." Something ineffable, trustworthy, sure, reassuring.

"But I... do they know I had killed you?" Will they hate me?

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

Albus knows this all too well: Severus cannot abide pity or charity.

"I do not think you would wish to be professor of astronomy, but ... Madam Pomfrey's old post is open, Head of the Hospital Wing. With your mastery of potions and healing arts, you could well fill that post, had you the interest in doing so. You would have to deal with many students who had done things you would consider foolish and unwise ..." Albus knows that patience is not Severus' strong suit. However, he had patience enough to teach Potions for years while waiting in desperate hope for the DADA position, and patience enough to guide bumbling children through explosive cauldron messes. "You would be doing much-needed work. You would become once again indispensable to Hogwarts."

That is the key.

His voice lowers. "Yes. Harry Potter is here, and Ron Weasley, and some others of the children we last taught. They know, Severus, that you are the one who killed me. I will speak to them if you wish it."

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

"I believe I could make myself useful in the Hospital Wing, and I can also brew any necessary potions, antidotes and healing draughts. And certainly, if the position is open, that must be very dangerous." He thinks of his Potions classes. "I understand that the beds would be filled with the unwise and foolish, but... I would have them after the fact, with their foolishness already impressed upon them." There might be a certain satisfaction there. He could heal and show them an example of efficiency and knowledge. And there would perhaps be tutorials for the brighter, more focused and appreciative students. His lips lift at this much better prospect of his immediate future and feels less awkward at once.

"Perhaps we might speak to them together? I would prefer to face that in person, if it is possible. Your presence would surely give them cause to hesitate before hexing me." His mouth tightens for a heartbeat at the irony. "Not that I am incapable of defending myself, but it is better to avoid that."

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

Albus inclines his head. He does not want Severus to see the compassion in his face. "We will speak to them together, then; perhaps not right away. You should settle in, first. Take your bath, rest up, owl your curriculum vitae to the Sorting Hat when you are ready to be considered for the Hospital Wing post. Once you have settled into the Hospital Wing, there will be time for the rest."

[methleigh.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, Albus, for everything." He cannot even begin to consider all Albus has done for him, all his life. He shudders to think what he would have become. And this welcome home is one more kindness that respects his dignity.

"I will bathe then, visit my rooms and attend to the owl." He smiles again and lets him see the real warmth he feels. "And later, we will speak to the children."

[lemondrop-party.livejournal.com]

Albus returns the smile, a warm and welcoming smile, though it pains his heart to know how infrequent the occasion for Severus to smile at anyone. "Later, then."

And he takes his leave.