darkart: ( commission, dnt ) (0161)
sᴇᴠᴇʀᴜs. ([personal profile] darkart) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet 2020-10-10 07:40 am (UTC)

(Her fingers on his shoulder, he imagines, leave a gold burning mark.)

Severus stares at the pans for a little while more, and then selects one nearly at random. The existence of other pans does not negate the fact that a soon-to-be dead muggle prick broke one that Lily put something in. (It would have been understandable, even excusable, for Severus to have done something in the heat of the moment when he found out. But he doesn't want that. He wants the cold nauseating reality, he wants bleak daylight. Not so much suffering. He just wants it to be real.)

Lily is selecting a bottle of wine, and Severus joins her. He is not much of a drinker - he has a poor palate for it (even despite Lucius constantly trying to test his vineyard's spoils on him) and doesn't like being drunk, but he'd probably chug real poison if she offered it to him.

More than the fact of her move to London, he had heard of her separation from Potter. He thought he'd have been happier; instead he was just even more angry. Severus observes the fall of her hair over her shoulder, and wonders what horrors were finally exposed to her. He knows best of all what kind of men Potter and Black are. It twists something cold in the pit of his stomach.

"Did you want anything else?" he asks her quietly.

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