Apr 26

He picked up his spoon and began to stir, re-mixing the thick broth into an even consistency. He nearly screamed when a ... thing ... he didn’t want to recognize rose to the surface. He did drop the spoon with a clatter. He swallowed his own bile, and picked up the utensil again, telling himself that he did not just see an eye in his soup. He fished it out with little difficulty and hid the disturbing item between the folds of his napkin where he couldn’t see it, and where it couldn’t see him. Please, don’t let that be a human eye, he silently begged whoever might be listening. Several more items joined the not-an-eye as he carefully inspected each spoonful before putting it in his mouth. Voldemort joined him about halfway through, and took the seat across from Severus. He did not eat, either because it was no longer necessary for him to do so, or because he already had. Instead, he simply watched Severus eat (or exile certain parts to the napkin). Only as Severus neared the end of his bowl did he speak. “I trust you enjoyed the Nott Stew?” Severus stubbornly refused to consider the possibility that the beef may not have been beef.