The Necromancer

Chapter 18

It was a glorious day.

In fact, it was such a glorious day that if it wouldn’t do irreparable damage to his reputation, Severus would have skipped all the way to Hogsmeade out of sheer, unadulterated joy. Severus wasn’t even sure when the last time he’d felt such joy was. Certainly at least a decade ago, probably more. Sometime when Lily had still been alive, perhaps.

Severus had to work very hard to keep a satisfied smile off his face as he marched towards Hogsmeade. Such a thing would ruin his reputation just as much as skipping would do.

Sirius Black was dead!

Severus had witnessed it himself just that morning in the back of the visitor section, how Black was given a sham of a trial and then unceremoniously tossed through the Veil like yesterday’s rubbish.

Closing his eyes, Severus inhaled a deep, deep breath to curb to urge to cackle in victory. Again, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and there were students around. Severus had a well-earned reputation to preserve.

But Black, his childhood tormenter, his would be murderer by werewolf, was well and truly dead! And Severus even had a hand in it. Albeit, a very small hand in the form of a signature Dumbledore told him to put on a scroll late last night. Severus had glanced over the scroll and seen that it was a completely false account of his encounter with Black and those three nosy students who firmly believed the world revolved around them that took place at the end of the last schoolyear. Severus hadn’t cared one bit it was a false testimony and he’d signed it without pause. He’d done far worse for his previous master than falsify a court document, after all.

It was such a glorious day.

So glorious, that Dumbledore even told him to take the afternoon off. Severus’ current Master was well and truly chuffed about having gotten rid of Sirius Black, though why, Severus wasn’t entirely sure. If he had to take a guess, it was to do with Potter’s spawn, who seemed to have disappeared these past two weeks, much to Severus’ pleasure. But much like his father, Potter’s spawn was arrogant and believed he didn’t have to follow the headmaster’s commands.

What a silly mistake to make. Potter was needed in the fight against the Dark Lord, and Dumbledore knew that. Potter may be thinking himself better than the rest of them, but Severus had learned long ago that what Dumbledore wanted, Dumbledore got. And if someone tried to actively work against that, they’d soon find themselves wishing they hadn’t.

Case in point, Potter refused to play along with Dumbledore, Potter lost his godfather. It was as simple as that.

Severus snorted. What did it matter in the end why Black had been killed? Severus despised the man more than anyone else in the entire world (and Severus despised most people, so that was saying something), and he was really, truly happy the cur was dead for good.

It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving criminal.

And thus, to celebrate the demise of Severus’ tormentor, Severus decided to get well and truly drunk, and nothing was going to ruin this glorious day. Rosmerta had a bottle of fire-whiskey with his name on it, she just didn’t know it yet.

But right before Severus could enter the Three Broomsticks, he heard a clunking noise behind him.

“Snape!” Moody barked.