Meddling

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A/N I probably should have said this earlier, but obviously while this started out as a light, semi-fluffy and rather comedic story, it\'s turned into a slightly dramatic and almost angsty piece with an actual, semi-seriplotplot... I hope to make it funny again soon, I hope I haven\'t disappointed too many people who where just looking for abit of a giggle at the idea of Snape being married, I love a good belly laugh myself but I seem to be incapable of writing pointless things, even my smut has to have a storyline and plot...

Anyway, on with the story, we\'re almost there!

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Of course, the world didn’t end, it merely continued on it’s own merry way and continued to ignore him as usual.

The nmaremares woke him before dawn, he had only taken double the usual dose of Dreamless Sleep and it had worked through his system already as usual. He conjured a wandlight to find his way to the bathroom through the decimated living area. It had been so many years since he’d had a full night of natural, uninterrupted sleep. He couldn’t take sleeping potions anymore due to his unfortunate abuse of them years ago, before he knew the consequences. These days he was practically immune to the majority of different brews available and some even caused the reverse of the intended effects due to his body’s intolerance. So he put up with the nightmares and sleeplessness and only broke his self-imposed discipline when emergency dictated, such as the previous night. Or he self-medicated with drink when miserable enough to damn the consequences but not sure enough in his conviction to deprive himself of the possibly urgently-needed escape in the future.

One cup of coffee and another shot of pain cure later he began to reorganize his quarters. Once upon a time he had been able to do without the morning coffee, but then, he had also once been able to ignore his headaches. He hadn’t known what a true migraine was. But the Dark Lord’s consistent use of Cruciatus had shown him many new levels of pain. Nothing he could concoct could repair the nerve damage, only dull the pain and his senses with it, so again he put up with it when he could. Peeves was retrieved from the hallways and left Dumbledore’s office with a Post-It on his forehead [Bless the wizard who invented these, now if only another one can find a way to stop the gluing-charm from fading so quickly…] and he went back to tidying when he discovered a battered copy of Alice In Wonderland/ Through The Looking-Glass wedged into a crack in the oak shelving, presumably by the former ghost.

[It’s been a long time…] The usual recitation began in his mind and he flicked pages until he reached Jabberwocky, checking he hadn’t corrupted the words in the years since he had last read them. As usual the nonsense made him smile, despite the slightly gruesome subject matter.

‘And the mome raths outgrabe…’ a white envelope slid from between the back pages and he stared at it blankly, its pale starkness practically a stain against the dark green rug. Torn between snatching it up and chastising it and its contents for teasing him, he left it where it was for the moment and instead went and retrieved a small box from its hiding place beside the fireplace. It was small, only slightly larger then his palm and lacquered black with a silver inlay on the lid showing a waterfall, but engorgio meant that the standard size parchments fit inside easily with only a single fold. Clutching it protectively in his fist he went back to the bookshelves.

He gave his most fearsome glare to the paper where it lay on the carpet. For infinite minutes he stared at it, debating whether it pick it up and read it as his thundering heart demanded, or forget altogether as pleaded his logic-driven mind. Gradually he bent to retrieve it, the envelope checked for any clues then thrown on the fire and he held the folded parchment with thumb and forefinger in consideration.

[It’s too early in the morning for intrigue and conspiraheorheories… how about we see how I feel in acouple of hours, otherwise you’ll have to wait till after dinner, whoever you are…] a tap of his wand and he flipped the box open to place it with the other six missives, but as soon as parchment touched parchment he felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of a giant fishhook through his navel. He groaned internally as his headache returned with close to full force and the last thing he heard before the pain overtook him was a very surprised woman’s voice.

‘What… oh you’ve gotta be shitting me…’


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A/N Ta da! I know it\'s really short again, but obviously the mystery letter-writer will feature prominently in the next chappie so you\'ll all know who she is and she\'ll stop pulling my goddamn hair.... I knew I should have shaved my head when I had the chance... Review, please!

And of course, Alice and Jabberwocky are property of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (aka Lewis Carroll) but hopefully he doesn\'t mind me borrowing them, what with his being dead and all...

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