Changed

Inspired by a conversation I had on FaceBook with a friend. A friend who is rather negative. Poor him. He's like Severus.


"Severus, my dear boy. I have not seen you since the new term began. I assume this is by pure chance, and not deliberate?" Albus Dumbledore cornered his Potions' Master in the dungeons corridor, blocking a speedy exit by the younger man. Severus glanced at him. "I have been busy, Headmaster."

"How has the new start to the term been?" Albus persisted. He was in no hurry to go anywhere—and clearly, Severus realised this. He paused, a disgruntled yet resigned expression crossing his face. "Would you like to come to my office, Headmaster? I prefer to have such discussions not in the corridor."

Albus smiled genially. "I would be delighted, my dear boy. I find myself thirsting for a nice cup of tea."

Severus rolled his eyes in a slightly disrespectful manner, before heading back toward his office, which he had just vacated. The Headmaster was one step behind.

Once they were inside, Albus made himself right at home, sitting down in his favourite chair and fixing Severus with an intrigued gaze. Severus was slightly more hesitant to sit down, fiddling with some paperwork on his desk before finally joining the Headmaster.

"How has the new start to the term been?" Albus repeated his earlier question, watching as Severus folded his arms. "You know that I dislike teaching."

"Ah, but Severus, my dear, I know that you enjoy the routine and monotony of the school day. It gives you structure. Structure that you would not have if you were not here...what would you do, if you were not a teacher?"

Severus glared at him. "Teaching is a soul destroying activity providing physical and mental torture and torment." He pronounced venomously, "And I do not care for it."

Sensing that he was not going to get much further in this conversation, Albus changed the subject quickly. "And what of the New Year? I do not recall seeing you at the staff party this year? Minerva was especially disappointed."

Severus looked dark. "You know my opinion about the New Year."

Albus nodded. "Of course. If I remember rightly, you described it as "pointless" and "uneventful". Severus, sometimes, your negativity truly astounds me."

"Headmaster. I am simply being a realist in an overly optimistic and thus foolish world." Severus corrected, acting as if the entire conversation—and thus the company—was boring him.

"Can you not forgive me for being overly optimistic, my dear boy? We live in troubled times, and sometimes, I find a little optimism can be a beacon of hope." He paused, "And surely you see the New Year as a chance for new beginnings?"

Severus contemplated this for a moment. "No. Nothing changes when the New Year arrives; the hour hand stays ticking, people still die, others are born, and the only thing that does change is the year. People do not change when the New Year comes around."

Albus was slightly surprised by this black response, despite the fact he knew Severus was never particularly hopeful about anything. "Ah, but then, surely every day is a monstrosity? Every day is the same in physical foundation; there are always twenty four hours, sixty minutes in each of those hours, and sixty seconds in each minutes. Nothing changes that, Severus. It is the decisions that we make, as individuals, as friends, as teachers and as those who are living, who decide whether things are going to be different or the same." He leant forward slightly so he could look into Severus; eyes, "It is our choices on January 1st, to become better people, to make resolutions to improve our lives, to help others or even just selfishly to help ourselves, which make it more than just adding one more day to the calendar."

Severus shook his head. "People do not change."

Albus had to laugh at that. "My dear boy, are you not evidence that people can—and indeed do—change? Look at you. And, as for others, perhaps people are not making that conscious decision, but everyone is capable of change, and everyone deserves the chance to make that decision. The decision to change."

"Headmaster, I have lived upon this damned planet for twenty-eight years. I have never known someone who has changed."

"But surely, you do not mean that every change a person makes needs to be major? You must have seen someone who has changed, for everyone changes, whether it is their mood switching from day to day, perhaps their faith, perhaps their own preferences. Have you not changed?"

Severus shook his head, "I have not changed."

"How long have you been a spy, Severus?"

Severus thought for a moment, "Eight years."

"Indeed. So you made the decision to change. The decision to no longer serve Lord Voldemort," He ignored Severus' flinch, "Is both a moral and a social decision. It had consequences, did it not? Your future, everything you were and would be, was changed irrevocably in that moment."

Severus bristled, "I was a servant then, and I am a servant now. It makes no difference."

Albus was silent for a moment, "I am saddened that, after eight years, you still see yourself as nothing more than a servant, Severus. But my point still stands. You made the conscious decision to change; and others make that change too. Everyone has to change, otherwise they are not doing themselves justice. How can they know if they are living the right life, walking the right path, if they do not change to try the alternative? You realised that you were walking the wrong road, did you not, when you made the decision to come back to the light." Severus did not reply instantly, and Albus leaned further forward. "Severus. You do believe this is the better path, do you not?" His voice had darkened, just slightly.

Severus glanced at him. "Yes."

Albus continued to finish his point. "Change is natural, imperative and enhances survival. Everyone changes-perhaps it is not obvious. Perhaps they fight and deny that change, but I can assure you, it happens." He smiled, just for a moment. "Take you. You made your change to your life, and now see—you are a successful teacher in a—if you will forgive me—highly prestigious institution. You may not see it, my boy, but I do. The changes you have made are numerous—and perhaps they are not all major. Perhaps it is just in how you are willing to talk to specific members of staff. Perhaps it is how, after eight years, you finally allow me to ask you how you are—and you will actually answer that question genuinely. You have changed; and if you, my stubborn child, can change—then so can anyone." He frowned. "I forget how we got to this subject."

"I was telling you how I despise New Year."

"Oh, but of course. Perhaps we do not make all our changes on the first day of the Year, although it seems the most sensible time to do so. But I hope I have changed your mind about change, Severus. Even the darkest soul has the capability to change."

"Are all those changes good?" Severus asked after a moment.

Albus considered this. "If one does not try said change, then how will they ever know?" He stood. "I have taken far too much of your time lecturing you about change and New Year and good cheer." He moved toward the door.

"Headmaster." Severus called after a moment. "Do you...do you really believe I have changed?"

Albus nodded. "I see it in you, every day. You may pretend to be the uncaring, stubborn, grumpy and troubled man you once were. But, Severus, my dear—I can see straight through you. You have changed. And I will go that one step further, the step that you seem unwilling to take." He smiled. "You have changed for the better."