Matryoshka Vignettes Introduction
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Matryoshka Vignettes Introduction This is a direct follow on from Perfect Situations. This story started with a small quickly written piece about Albus visiting the Goblins. That story didn’t make the final cut, as it was pretty out of the character I wanted Dumbledore to have. There was another short - an Island Visitor, that was also cut because it didn't fit. But that gave me the idea of doing a couple of character pieces – and Hermione and Ginny soon followed. From there, I just kept going and posting on my yahoo group, without bothering to have them betad. After a while, a few other authors submitted stories to me, and I realised I had to do something with this, and this is the result. So I’d like to thank Kokopelli, Ishtar and GardenGirl for betaing all of these, and I’d very much like to thank Kokopelli, Crys, Draco664 and OHGinnyFan for playing in this universe. If you would like to read this story in chronological order, you will need to follow the links in the order below, as the story has been uploaded in the “Pulp Fanfiction” style in which it was written. Chronological Order: Sing A Song of Sixpence, A Pocket Full of Weasleys (2/4) - Fred and George - Sun, February 1st 1998, 11:30am Eternal Sleep - Severus Snape - Sat, February 21st 1998, 10:47am Into the Abyss - Adam Sage - March 1st 1998, 1:02pm For the Best - Albus Dumbledore - Tue, March 15th, 2:15pm Sing A Song of Sixpence, A Pocket Full of Weasleys (3/4) - Bill - Fri, 10th April 1998 9:02am Sing A Song of Sixpence, A Pocket Full of Weasleys (4/4) - Charlie - Fri, 10th April 1998 3:35pm The Unforgiving Minute - Neville Longbottom - Sat, May 2nd 1998, 10:30am A Promise Made Is A Debt Unpaid - Minerva McGonagall - Mon, 20th April 1998 True Bravery - Neville Longbottom - Sat, May 30th 1998, 4:42pm A Lawyer's Tale - A Bay Area Lawyer - Mon, June 8th 1998, 10:00am And Now For Something Completely Different - Luna Lovegood - Wed, July 2nd 1998, 9:01am By The Light of a Silvery Moon - Remus Lupin - Thu, 28th July, 6:45am Wings of Fire - Fawkes - Thu, July 31st 1980 to present A Thousand Miles - Ron Weasley - Mon, August 10th 1998, 11:45am He's Alive - Hermione Granger - Thu, August 13th 1998, 1:42pm Sing A Song of Sixpence, A Pocket Full of Weasleys (1/4) - Percy Weasley - Fri, August 14th 1998, 5:28pm Father Forgive Me - Luna Lovegood - Fri, August 14th 1998, 3:58pm Wings of a Prayer - Ginny Weasley - Sat, August 15th 1998, 4:31am Gang aft a-gley - Albus Dumbledore - Sat, 15th August, 1998, 1:01pm A Gilded Cage - Severus Snape - Fri, October 23rd 1998, 11:15am Matryoshka Vignettes Eternal Sleep “What?” Severus Snape growled, as he flung open the door to his private shop off Knockturn Alley. “I’ve got a delivery for a Severus Snap,” the man said, his arms full of wooden boxes. “That’s Snape, you imbecilic incompetent,” he barked. It felt good to insult someone again; it had been too long since he had enjoyed the opportunity and for some reason it felt even better to do so with this deliveryman. “Well, don’t just stand there gaping like an idiot, bring them in.” “Yes, sir,” the deliveryman said, his eyes firmly on the floor. Snape marched through his hallway to his converted kitchen, swirling his robes dramatically. The deliveryman followed him, and dropped the boxes down loudly on the counter. “Gently, you oaf,” Snape snapped. “Those ingredients are worth more than your life!” “Sorry,” the man grunted. “Sign here.” Snape signed the proffered parchment with a dramatic flourish. “Now get out,” he snarled. The deliveryman shrugged and turned, walking out and slamming the door behind him. “Arrogant fool,” Snape muttered to himself. He began to open the boxes eagerly and sighed happily. Potions ingredients always allowed him to forget everything else and do what he did best. An hour later, with all his ingredients meticulously placed in their correct positions, he looked over to his order sheet and sighed again, although less happily. A sex potion. A stinking sex potion. It was a travesty that a man of his talents was reduced to making potions to spice up the love lives of the idiot rich. And it was that arrogant bastard Potter’s fault, he thought bitterly as he started his work. Potter had corrupted one of his best Slytherins, and she had casually destroyed his life, like any good Slytherin would, with a throw–away comment. He let his thoughts ramble on while he absently crushed some sopophorous beans with the flat side of a silver dagger and added them to some Valerian roots. He had returned to Hogwarts after Potter’s funeral, as cheerful as he could remember. Both of his most hated people, Potter and Voldemort, were dead, and he could look forward to the future of intimidating children with something approaching joy. Instead he found that there was rebellion afoot. He’d hadn’t even done anything – just made a second year Gryffindor girl cry – when one of his own students, his own, had called him a bullying coward. Well, he wasn’t going to take that, even from his own House. He’d removed five House points and assigned a twenty-minute detention. He’d presumed that would be the end of it. Only it wasn’t. The next thing that had happened was Draco Malfoy, white with fear, begging him to find an antidote for the poison that Greengrass had forced down his throat. Snape had initially been excited. Lucius would pay a large reward for saving his son’s life. It would make a major contribution to his retirement fund. He continued working on the sex potion automatically, as he added the Ashwinder eggs, cleaning his hands afterward. Things had gone on normally for a week before he had been ordered to attend a meeting of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. He hadn’t been concerned. Lucius was back on the Board, and Lucius wouldn’t allow anything to happen to the man finding his son’s cure. Only he had arrived to find that there was someone new in Lucius’ chair – someone he didn’t recognise. The man explained to him that the Malfoy family was bankrupt, that someone had purchased all their debts and foreclosed on them. That Malfoy had overextended himself in his backing of Voldemort, and was now penniless. He had cursed to himself – this was going to affect his retirement. “And Professor Snape,” the stranger had continued inexorably. “By request of the students of your House, and because of your appalling behaviour with the students of all Houses, we are removing you from the Head of Slytherin House position.” He had been stunned into speechlessness, and hadn’t even thought till later about the drop in pay involved. It was substantial. So here he was, spending his weekend making a sex potion, which had turned purple at the right time and had been stirred correctly throughout. He’d abandoned the search for an antidote for the younger Malfoy; there was no way he was going to waste valuable ingredients and research time on the boy. He was positive that Greengrass was more than competent enough to make an antidote very difficult to find. She was a Slytherin after all. He allowed the potion to cool for an hour, while he tidied up his workshop. It might be small, but it was one of the best laid out potions chambers in the world. Magic, proper magic, not that stuff caused by foolish wand waving, went on here, and soon he would have the money to be able to purchase the ingredients he needed. He would make his cure for werewolves, sell it to a distributor for an absolute fortune, and then leave the country, long before the side effect – the death, after a year, of every werewolf who took it – was discovered. He poured the lilac potion into a vial, and left a small amount for testing. He couldn’t afford to gain a bad reputation yet, so he always tested his creations himself (the non–deadly ones at least) to ensure that they were perfect. They always were. But he liked to be sure. He swallowed the potion quickly and absently decided which of his students he would fantasise about as he relieved the effects of the sex enhancer. And he yawned. He waited for the expected rush, but all that came was another yawn, this one bigger, and he started to feel sleepy. Sleepy? Dread filled him. Something had gone wrong. He shouldn’t feel sleepy. But what had happened? He’d done the potion properly. He had even cleaned his fingers after touching the eggs. Wait. He shook himself. He didn’t need to do that, they were only eggs after all. He stumbled frantically over to his supplies, not caring as he knocked his completed potions in all directions. “Finite Incantatem ,” he whispered, and the box of eggs seemed to shimmer and change. It was no longer a box of eggs but asphodel in an infusion of wormwood. But if you added wormwood infusion, instead of eggs, to the sex potion… He slumped to the ground. He’d just made his own death. A living death. He almost smiled. Of all the ways he had expected to die, this was perhaps the kindest. Greengrass had certainly struck in style. Still, at least Potter was dead as well.