useabezoar (
useabezoar) wrote in
all_inclusive2014-03-29 11:38 am
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Snape's life for the past several years has been one of dull routine. Wake up, get dressed, find something to eat, avoid everyone else, avoid the oppressive heat, avoid his terrible roommate, avoid avoid avoid. Sometimes, strange things would happen, like waking up in a new place, or with a new body, or with magic that was useless in the face of the abilities he knew he had.
But mostly, it was dull routine.
Until today.
Today should have been normal, like every other day. Nothing strange was happening on the island, at least not that he could tell. So he went about his routine. Clothes -- black, sober, as clean-pressed as he could get. Wand, tucked up his sleeve, just like every day, just in case. His fingers wrap around the doorknob to his room, and he twists and pulls...
And the room he steps out into is not the compound. Instead, he's standing in the front lobby of a hotel, much grander than anything he's seen in years.
Snape blinks. "You have got to be kidding me," he says. This is a new one for the island, this spontaneous changing of setting -- usually it happens overnight, when no one is aware of the change. He's never walked through one door and wound up somewhere else, instead.
Well, until now.
Snape folds his arms over his chest and glares out at the room, as he looks for a familiar face to demand an explanation from.
But mostly, it was dull routine.
Until today.
Today should have been normal, like every other day. Nothing strange was happening on the island, at least not that he could tell. So he went about his routine. Clothes -- black, sober, as clean-pressed as he could get. Wand, tucked up his sleeve, just like every day, just in case. His fingers wrap around the doorknob to his room, and he twists and pulls...
And the room he steps out into is not the compound. Instead, he's standing in the front lobby of a hotel, much grander than anything he's seen in years.
Snape blinks. "You have got to be kidding me," he says. This is a new one for the island, this spontaneous changing of setting -- usually it happens overnight, when no one is aware of the change. He's never walked through one door and wound up somewhere else, instead.
Well, until now.
Snape folds his arms over his chest and glares out at the room, as he looks for a familiar face to demand an explanation from.
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She gnaws on her lower lip as she approaches curiously, tilting her head to the side. "Snape?" she tries, hoping against hope that she isn't mistaken.
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Snape pauses, swivels to look at Belle, because it's certainly her, and she recognizes him, even though she's been gone from the island for so long. He didn't know of anyone who had been returned, memory in-tact, so now he's even more lost than he was just moments before.
"Belle?" he says haltingly. He doesn't think he's seeing things, but he's been on the island long enough that he knows it's entirely possible.
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Her smile brightens to quite the magnitude as he recognizes her and calls her by her name without any prompting. She steps faster to get closer, happy to be able to see a friend again after so long. She won't dare to hug him, even though a part of her really does want to. "It's me, yes," she confirms with a bright laugh. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again! When did you get here!"
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Snape's head snaps in the direction of the voice and he arches an eyebrow at her. Nothing about her looks familiar, and he wonders if this is more island magic, or perhaps something more sinister.
"This," he says, gesturing broadly at his surroundings. "This wasn't here just a moment ago. This isn't what's usually on the other side of my door, and I've had just about enough of these silly tricks."
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"Yeah, gunk like that never happens without a warning. Way annoying."
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"Let me guess," he said. "A moment ago you were somewhere, and you went through a door trying to get somewhere else, and ended up here instead." The man turned a look on him nearly as flat and unimpressed as some of the expressions Erik cultivated himself. His teeth flashed, barely deserving to be called a smile. "Believe me, I know just how you feel."
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I really just bloody well figured, didn't it?
Last fall had seen Sirius toeing a precarious line, and in the interest of earning his way fully back into James' good graces, he'd been largely avoiding Snape ever since. He'd not been sorry, still wasn't sorry, but temptation avoided was temptation averted. Now here Snape was, in the one place Sirius had felt certain he'd never have to see that greasy head at all.
A greasy head that looked entirely less familiar than it really ought to have. A little older, perhaps. Definitely more care-worn, and entirely lacking in the sense of shock you'd expect from a person—Magical or otherwise—who had just found themselves in an entirely different place than they had expected.
When Sirius approached, it was with his typical carefree saunter, but his gray eyes were narrowed and sharply critical.
"See all these doors?" he began, gesturing to the row of them marching down the wall. "Choose one. Could be you'll find somebody who has a greasy git fetish behind there. Or a dragon. Either way, I'll not have to look at you anymore."