capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHO: A bunch of magic lamers.
WHERE: Dunwich, Massachusetts.
WHEN: Friday, September 2nd through Sunday, September 4th.
WARNINGS: TBA. There's bound to be something.
SUMMARY: Herp derp.
FORMAT: Whatever you feel like!

Let's get it on.

■ Friday, September 2nd.
■ Saturday, September 3rd.
■ Sunday, September 4th.

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Oh--

Oh.

[Snape is-- bland for a moment, expression falling into blankness.]

Not out here, Draco. I'll tell you -- everything [another lie, but still] but I don't want to get into it here, with some of the... young people still milling about.

We don't need an audience.

[He ignores all that about getting out of the open, and just gets paler, and definitely more irritated.]

So it's true then! And you didn't feel it was important enough to tell me?

There are many things you need to be told, but timing is also important, Draco! [Snape tries to master his temper, but the weekend has been very trying.]

Back to the suite. Now. We will talk there.

[He allows himself to be led away, but he isn't going to keep silent. What's the point? Apparently everyone knew but him.]

Timing? What timing could there possibly be for this sort of thing? What plan hinges on waiting to tell me you are dead?

When would I have told you? Perhaps when, in shock after arrival, while you made snide comments about tea bags?

[Marching him right to a suite, and off a side room, closing the door behind them.]

Muffliato.

[That spell is becoming damn handy here; there, no eavesdropping.]

Yes. It's true. I arrived here at the moment of my death; the Porter sealed my wounds, and I was found by Gemma Doyle, who was able to get me to safety. I recovered, and ... I am here now. There is no going back.

[He isn't aware of that spell, but even in his ire he is able to guess what it's for and catalogued it for later.]

Fine, I'll grant you that, then what's your excuse for the two weeks after that! How did you die? Why did you die? If it was for something ridiculous--!

[The sad thing was he would be more panicked about the fact Snape in relation to he and his parents ability to survive the war if he hadn't been told all three of them came out fine in the end. However, this still made him very upset and it was coming out as some sort of hysterical anger.]

I thought I would allow you to settle and adjust -- dumping one thing after another on you seemed cruel. How does one approach the subject of their own immient demise with their godson? It's not like bloody cancer or the flux--

[Best be glad for the Muffliato; Snape's voice has risen sharply, but he drags it back down, as he paces to the other end of the room; an awkward and unpleasant conversation is going to have to be had.]

He believed I'd become master of the Elder Wand. [There's no mistaking who HE is, between them.] His prize, his new wand -- that he thought would make him master of Death.

He killed me to be sure and claim it.

He thanked me for my service, and then let that damned serpent savage me. It was-- quick enough. And there was little pain.

I died with no real regrets, Draco. I knew you and yours would be as safe as I could make them, with the failsafes I had in place.

[Potter would do what he had to do, and Voldemort would die. He'd been told the Malfoy's escaped with their lives and would rebuild. They would be alright. Everything, in the end, would be as alright as his blood could buy. It was not much, but it was something.]

Died with no regrets? After everything you did for him you died over a wand?

[He knows as soon as that's out of his mouth how stupid that is, because of course the Dark Lord would kill over that. He would probably have killed Snape for serving him a soup with a fly in it. He clamps his mouth into a thin line for a moment, then asks:]

What do you mean 'failsafes'?

I tried to have-- things in place. To make sure you'd be as far from the fighting as I could manage. I knew the end was coming, and that the Dark Lord would fall.

It was, I am told, enough.

[He waits, to see if the boy understands. Puts the pieces together. Draco's not dumb; he he is very emotional at the moment, and Snape is not sure which will override the other.]

[He doesn't have enough pieces to come to a concrete conclusion, but knowing Snape's past he's starting to get a hunt.]

How did you know that? When I left he had control of everything important, what could you possible know that would lead you to believe he would fall?

[Snape watches Draco for a long moment. Weighing the truth here, it's value -- the boy is already upset and irate, what can one more painful truth.]

Did he really? There were pockets of resistance at every corner. Even students organizing. People were willing to die to see him stopped. He didn't have everything in his palm.

And there was still the wand. Even with my death, it did not cleave to him. It had another master.

Who was was-- I cannot say. I fear to think it might've been you. You disarmed Albus. I merely gave him the coup de grace.

[So that Draco didn't have to. So that Bellatrix wouldn't start playing with her food... for any other reason then the one Draco thinks.]

[Draco didn't say there wasn't resistance--even his own lying about Potter and friends was a sort of form of that. But even so . . .]

Of course there would be resistance, but surely what could someone like Neville Longbottom do to be a threat to him?

[Although he had been surprised Longbottom had managed to stand up to the Death Eaters in the school as long as he had. He was sure if it wasn't for that pureblood he would have been gone immediately]

What do you mean I might've been . . . [He trails off, considering this impossible revelation.]

You remember the story of The Deathly Hallows; further stories indicate he Elder Wand passed from hand to hand by combat. Albus Dumbledore possessed the Elder Wand. You defeated him; disarmed him and had him at your mercy. I -- think the wand's loyalty transferred to you.

[Little does he know that it went to Harry after he got disarmed in Malfoy Manor; he hasn't put that scuffle into the puzzle. Even Snape can occasionally miss a detail.]

[His hand went to his face, rubbing at his chin as he thought this over feverishly in his head. There were too many realisations going on at once.]

I . . . didn't realize such a thing existed, let alone Dumbledore had it. I mean, the thought alone that I helped to-to-!

[He realised he might sound too excited about that, and he was still unsure of Snape's allegiance and he didn't want to risk his wrath.]

What . . . what an astounding set of circumstances.

[Snape is as flatfaced as ever when someone mentions Albus Dumbledore's death. But something, briefly, flares in his black eyes before it, too, dies as Draco abruptly backtracks.][He takes a pause, before he says.]

I'm sorry I didn't tell you about-- what happened. It seemed unimportant at the moment, too burdensome in the immediateness of the chaos.

[There. Snape can apologize. But only for half a lie.]

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