Marked

The Maestro

Chapter 35: The Maestro

Albus barely looked up from his desk at Severus's frantic entry.

"What is this?" Severus demanded, holding up the silver time turner in his tightly clenched fist. The more he'd thought about the implications of the object's existence, the angrier he had become.

"Obviously, Severus, you are fairly clear on what it does," Albus replied primly, closing the book he was browsing with a slow, painstaking deliberation before looking up to meet the eyes of his rather winded associate.

Severus huffed impatiently at his inattention. "Do not patronize me, Albus!" he snapped, rattling the silver object in the process. "I want an explanation - "

"So," Albus interrupted coolly, leaning back in his chair. "How did I die this time?"

Severus nearly choked on his gasp of surprise.

"What?" he asked dully, sputtering. "What - how - "

Albus's blue eyes were, as always, twinkling mischievously.

"Why don't you take a seat, Severus?" he suggested placidly. "If I know you - and I do," he clarified, raising a pale, silvery brow, "this will be a lengthy conversation."

Severus fidgeted where he stood.

"I do not enjoy being made to feel foolish, Albus," he warned in a low voice, agitatedly glancing at the proffered chair.

The old man considered him thoughtfully.

"I'll answer your questions," Albus assured him after a moment, gesturing again. "Sit, Severus. Please."

Severus moved unhappily to comply, yanking out the chair opposite the Headmaster's own and perching uncomfortably at its edge.

"How many times have you already answered my questions?" Severus posed tightly. "How many times have I come back here?"

"It's quite fascinating to me that you seem to have no interest in where in time you are," Albus said loftily. "Your priorities are really quite intriguing."

Severus grunted in irritation. "How many times?" he repeated, clenching his jaw tightly.

"Three," Albus replied, sighing. "This being the third."

"Three?" Severus said haltingly. "Do you mean to tell me that you have been running this same time scenario three times?"

"Of course not," Albus said, and Severus relaxed for a moment.

"This is your third time asking me these questions, Severus, but this is my sixth attempt," Albus delineated, purposefully disregarding the frustration Severus openly exhibited at his initial misleading answer.

"Sixth?" Severus stood, moodily pacing to try and find an outlet for his heightening disgruntlement. "Sixth. Albus. You can't be serious."

Albus lifted an eyebrow thoughtfully, as though he did not feel it worth his time to respond to his younger associate's outburst.

"How did I die?" Albus asked instead, revisiting his initial question.

Severus brought his hands to his face, abruptly halting his pacing. "How would you even know that?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

In answer, Albus lifted his right hand and set it roughly on the desk. It was as blackened and charred as it had been when he had first come to Severus for help, and Severus guessed the damage was perhaps less than a week old.