When All is Lost One is Found

Chapter 11: Exhausting Troubles

Chapter Text

When All is Lost One is Found

Author: Rinoaebastel

Chapter 11: Exhausting Troubles

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and gain no profit from this fanfiction other than writing practice. Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.

AN: This story may contain scenes taken from the Harry Potter movies and books, but it's not exact dialogue, just rewording of dialogue or omission. It is not marked.

February 1992

He fell back on the sofa, melding his body against the soft seat that seemed to engulf him. He was about to doze when his mental to-do list bombarded his thoughts. He needed to look over his class essays, but he didn't have strength enough to do much of anything, much less read written forms of idiocy. Not today. Watching over a quidditch match to make sure Potter didn't break his neck was draining enough. He had to admit that he'd feared for the boy's life. He wasn't sure who cursed the broom in the past match, but it wouldn't have been difficult to do so when said broom belonged to an inexperienced child.

He had his suspicions just as Dumbledore had. He thought it was Quirrell, but without proof he couldn't do anything. Weeks of spying on him and spotting him in the darkness near the third floor had made him suspicious and wary of that man's actions. Quirrell knew how to play innocent. He knew not to fall for the act.

Dumbledore had asked him to watch the man, without explaining why as per usual when it came to the older wizard. At first he'd been curious as to why, but now that curiosity was fading. This wasn't the same Quirrell that was here a year ago, and by adding more complexity to the year, there was a dangerous artifact in the castle's depths that needed to be guarded.

He swallowed.

He'd acted as judge during today's quidditch match to make sure that no one made another attempt against Potter's life. At least no one set his robe on fire this time. The embers were a spell he'd seen before, but he couldn't quite recall where. His work for the order, protecting and checking to see if someone had disturbed the enchantments on the Philosopher's stone, was enough to occupy his mind. Now, he had Potter to deal with all the while watching him smash Slytherin morale in quidditch too. Like father, like son. The way the Potters ruined everything for him, everything he loved, astonished and angered him at the same time.

He rubbed his face and closed his eyes, letting his head rest on the arm of the seat. Sleep tried to claim him, but he couldn't allow himself the luxury of rest. In a few minutes it would be his turn to watch the third floor.

His door opened and an unannounced visitor stormed into his living quarters as if they owned the place. Lifting his head, he saw that the intruder was indeed who he expected.

Anger rushed him.

The old fool had time to come down here but not enough time to do his part in protecting the boy. He placed all the weight onto his shoulders and gave him the duty to protect a child that looked just like the man he hated.

"You should've been there," Snape said, not giving the headmaster a chance to sit before starting the conversation. He didn't bother sitting up either. He was as comfortable as he could be considering he was never relaxed to begin with.

"I assume everything went fine. You didn't find the culprit?" Dumbledore said and sat down. He reached into his tunic. "Lemon drop?"

The offer of a sweet brought further irritation. No, he didn't want a bloody lemon drop and wouldn't dignify the stupid question with an answer. "It would've been less suspicious if you attended the match instead, and I kept watching the third floor. No one would've dared to hurt the boy in front of you."