Sirius Black Fest 2013: Fic: No Life at All Title: No Life at All Author: Currently behind The Veil Pairing(s)/character(s): Snape/Lily, Snape/Sirius, Snape/Sirius/Remus, mention of James/Lily. Rating: NC-17 Prompt# Prompt #134: You and me in our playhouse Living in a veil We never need to go without Memories bring no joy or peace We are alone And all we need (Song lyrics to Bernadette by IAMX) Word count: 17 K Summary: “The human is always ravenous. Nothing is ever enough….” AU of the first war. Severus joined the Order of the Phoenix, Voldemort was defeated. But those who survived didn't emerge from the war unscathed. Friendships were broken, lovers became strangers to each other. And it all started with Snape, naturally. Warnings: Highlight to read*slash M/M/M, angst, mention of non-con, mention of torture * Disclaimer: All rights to HP universe belong to JKR. I make no money from writing fanfiction. A/N: Many thanks to _ and akatnamedeaster for their help and encouragement.
(14)
Dumbledore made them apologize to each other and shake hands. They did and made a good show of it.
Snape was the first to take off afterwards. Sirius heard it said that Dumbledore had offered Snape a job at Hogwarts. He highly doubted that - one would need to be a lunatic to allow someone like Snape to work with children, and Dumbledore, despite all his eccentricities, wasn't one.
Lily and James went off on their own. They were still not 'together' and 'just friends' but Remus watched them knowingly and there was a look of hurt on his face that Sirius didn't know how to explain.
Remus began to pack the following morning.
“I'm sorry,” Sirius told him as he watched Rem's meagre possessions fly into his only suitcase and arrange themselves in a very efficient and neat way. “All the things I've said…”
“Did you mean them?” Remus asked.
“I suppose I did. At the time.”
“Then no apologies should be offered.” Remus smiled at him - but the smile was different now, more distant, more reserved. “I suppose I shouldn't have interfered. Had you killed Snape, it'd have been better for everyone. Easier, at any rate.”
Sirius smiled unhappily.
“Would you have visited me in Azkaban?”
“I don't think so,” Remus said calmly. “I'm tired of this, Sirius. So very tired.”
The suitcase snapped shut and flew into Remus' outstretched hand.
“Tired of what?” Sirius whispered, watching him.
“Being human.”
Remus shut the door quietly when he left.
(15)
Two years after the war, Lily still wasn't talking.
She was still not her former self, and Sirius could see that.
When asked, James shook his head, resigned. “She still gets sick to her stomach or bursts into tears whenever Snape's name comes up - and I have no idea what had gone on back there, but sometimes I just want to catch him and bash his head in.”
“Why don't you?” Sirius asked.
“She made me promise I'd leave him alone. She still swears Snape is a good man, that he's done nothing wrong… but that's as much as she'll say. I do as she tells me.”
Sirius smiled. “All right. I suppose it's time to move on.”
James looked at him with concern.
“Padfoot, what ware you thinking? And don't you dare to say 'nothing'”.
“I'm just thinking, lucky thing that I didn't promise anything to anyone. Maybe it's time someone chatted with him.”
“Don't.” James frowned. “Last time you chatted, you nearly broke his neck.”
“I wouldn't do that,” Sirius said quietly. “Mostly because I don't think he's worth spending time in Azkaban over. But I will get him to tell me everything.”
PART THREE
THE PENSIEVE
Memories bring no joy or peace We are alone And all we need
(16)
Visiting Snape became a tradition of sorts, albeit a strange one.
The strangest part of it all was that it felt GOOD to visit Snape. Snape, the way he was living his life now, seemed almost normal, in his own deranged, bitter way.
During Sirius' visits, there was still the hostility, and cutting remarks, and once more it came to a fistfight, wands forgotten. And yet… in a way, it felt like the old days. The days before THAT happened - Sirius didn't know what else to call it.
The only thing Sirius knew for a fact was that the time was short. September wasn't too far away.
Everything would end then. Sirius would return to Hogwarts, start teaching. He'd not have much time left for visiting Snape and trying to find out what he needed to know. He would have less time for James and Lily, too, who already seemed like they were just living in world of their own, just for the two of them.
And then - September meant that Remus would be gone. Really gone.
(17)
“Moony, I wonder, if I come to Finland after your treatment is done - and run through the woods, and cross paths with you, will I recognize you?”
(18)
“Padfoot,
"I doubt that.”
(19)
In the third week of August Sirius brought a bottle of Firewhiskey with him. Snape gave him a cautious glance, but let him in the house. All in all, it turned out to be a bad idea. Snape ended up being a gloomy drunk, and no more inclined to open up than when sober.
“So what kind of music do you listen to?” Sirius asked.
“What does it matter to you what I listen to?”
“Just... curious,” Sirius answered. “Snape, you remember that tent, and - when Rem and I and you…”
“Yes.” Snape didn't seem particularly pleased or troubled by the mention of that: just another memory.
“Snape. It freaks the hell out of me that, come September, it'll be just you and me left.”
“Then, perhaps, you're wasting your time on the wrong person,” Snape said dryly. “You should be going to Lupin, trying to convince him that life is worth living, that he's got friends who care for him, and all that rot that you Gryffindors are so brilliant at.” Snape marked the word 'care' with a very special touch of contempt.
“I did. He won't see me.”
“Pity. Maybe he's grown tired of you,” Snape's lips curled into an unpleasant sneer.
Sirius smirked. “But you haven't.”
Snape stared at him. For the longest of times they were both silent.
“The Beatles,” Snape said finally.
“What?”
“I listen to the Beatles.”
“No!” Sirius barely kept himself from laughing. “What's the song?”
“THE song? They have plenty, you know.”
“Yes, but -- everyone has a song that's just .. you know… THE SONG.” Sirius waved his hand impatiently. “You know, the song that says it all. The only song you ever need.”
Snape frowned. “The Long and Winding Road, if I had to pick just one.”
“Let's hear it. You've got speakers?”
“Yes.” Snape motioned in the direction of his bookshelf, where, right next to a few Wizarding artefacts, rested a rather ugly speaker - a single black box with a cord. “It plugs in right into the CD player.”
“How loud does it go?”
“Surprisingly so,” Snape muttered. “If you want to wake up the neighbours and have the Muggle police attend, turn it up half-way.”
“And if I turn it up all the way?” Sirius checked.
“We'll both go deaf, I suspect. Which isn't really a bad lot, as I will be saved from hearing you speak.”
“But you won't be rid of me,” Sirius grinned. “I'll learn the sign language.”
“I'll refuse to learn it, then.”
“I'll write you notes.”
“All of a sudden, I seem to have forgotten how to read,” Snape said.
Sirius laughed. “Do you really want me to stop coming?”
“Yes. No. I don't know,” Snape shrugged and gave him a cautious look. “For some odd reason it feels good when you come over,” he admitted, reluctantly, hesitantly.
Sirius watched him. Snape's face, in the dim light of the tiny kitchen, seemed tired, lost… almost human.
Just like back in the old days, before…
LILY. Sirius gritted his teeth, as the familiar wave of rage welled up, so violent it was hard to breathe.
Snape was watching him with concern. “Black, what is it? You seem to be…”
“It's fine, Snape,” Sirius denied at once. “Everything is all right. Let's hear the song. And yes, I'm going to turn it all the way up.”
“Very well. Cast a silencing charm around the house then. I really don't want the police to attend.”
A minute later, the music roared so loud, it was easy to be lost in it. It did nothing to soothe the rage that Sirius was feeling, but it seemed to do something for Snape, who leaned back in his chair, his eyes half shut.
Sirius continued to watch him, wondering if he'd be able to read anything at all in Snape's face.
When the song was over, Sirius walked up to Snape and stood over him.
“Snape,” he whispered, barely able to keep his anger in check. “Are you trying to tell me here that someone LEFT YOU STANDING at the door?”
Snape's mouth quirked into a tiny smile.
“Of course not. It's much less tragic than that, I'm afraid. The road disappeared one day - that's all. And that's the last you'll hear from me on the matter, Black.”
“You know,” Sirius inched closer, “I just thought of something.”
“An event worthy of celebration, no doubt.”
“There are silencing charms all around the house,” Sirius said. “If I killed you now, nobody would hear. Nobody would know until morning.”
“Perhaps it'd be even longer than that,” Snape replied, quite indifferently. “I don't have any lessons for the next three days.” Snape opened his eyes to study Sirius' face. “You realize, if you do that - kill me now, I mean - come September, you'll be the last one. The last one still alive -of the three of us.”
“What a dreadful thought,” Sirius muttered.
“Not at all. It seems fitting. I always imagined that at the end of it all, you'd be the last man left standing.”
With those words, Snape left the kitchen and walked upstairs. He didn't even bother to see Sirius out of the house. Perhaps, he really didn't care anymore - and was privately hoping that someone would just put him out of his misery.
No, Snape. Not before you talk.
(20)
“You slept on my couch,” Snape informed Sirius in the morning.
Sirius' eyes followed the direction of Snape's accusing finger and saw a few clumps of black fur on the cushions. He tried for humor. “That's not mine. Must be some other dog I never met.”
Snape was having none of that. “Why didn't you go home?”
“I was too drunk to Apparate. I thought - if I try, I'd Splinch myself, and you'd miss seeing it, and you'd never forgive me for that.”
He made coffee and drank it while Snape watched him from the kitchen doorway.
“Black, why are you here?” Snape said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you want from me? Why do you keep coming over?”
“Why do you keep letting me in?”
“Because I am trying to understand - WHY? WHAT IS THIS?” Snape's voice rose slightly, but more with desperation than anger.
Sirius stared at him. “What do you want it to be?” he asked, surprising himself.
For a split second Snape looked like he was actually going to answer - but he stopped himself just in time.
“What if I were telling the truth?” Sirius continued, never taking his eyes off Snape. “What if I was here to rekindle an old flame? See if the sparks fly?”
Snape's face turned stony. “Get out of here, Black.”
(21)
“Moony:
Can you at least tell me what happened? When did we lose it all?”
(22)
“Padfoot:
I imagine we never had it all.”
(23)
When Sirius returned the next day, the door to Snape's home was wide open. Snape, however, wasn't there, though Pablo was, on the couch, his eyes glued to the telly. He looked rather sulky and was pressing an ice pack of some sort to his cheek that seemed bruised.
“Hey,” Sirius said, stopping in the doorway. “What are you watching?”
“The Maltese Falcon.”
“Good movie,” Sirius approved. “What happened to your face?”
Pablo shrugged, irritated. “Can't you wait for the commercial to talk?”
“Not really. Did Snape hit you?” Somehow, that fit right into Sirius' view of Snape's teaching skills.
“What, are you stupid or something?” Pablo asked with disgust.
“No. But I do know Snape. He's very good at … hitting people.”
“I sure hope so,” Pablo responded, quite indifferently. “Seeing that he just went to fight my father.”
“He did WHAT?!”
“Somebody should,” Pablo muttered. “Mum's brother used to do that, but then he died.”
“Did Snape actually TELL you he was going to fight your father?”
“Of course not. He said he was going to talk to him about my education.” Pablo shrugged again. “I don't know why everyone assumes children are stupid.”
“I don't - which house is yours?”
“Half a block down, across the street, number fourteen,” Pablo said. “May I watch the movie now?”
Sirius ran out of the house and sprinted down the street. When he reached number fourteen, a very young tan-skinned woman met him outside. The resemblance to Pablo was unmistakable.
“Are they inside?” Sirius demanded right away.
She gave him a miserable look and a quick nod.
“He - Severus said nobody should go into the house while they're talking.”
“I'm sure he didn't mean me,” Sirius said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I'm here to help, that's all.”
The inside of the house was more than a mess - it looked like a herd of Hyppogriffs had been partying all night: furniture overturned, one window leading to the backyard, crack, curtains pooling on the floor in a pitiful heap.
The presumed owner of the house, a middle aged scruffy looking white man, was backed against the wall, Snape holding him by the throat.
“Snape, don't do anything stupid,” Sirius warned him at once.
Snape's victim twitched at Sirius' words and his eyes darted from side to side.
“Black, don't interfere.”
“You won't kill him, will you?”
“I haven't decided yet,” Snape said coolly, then turned his attention to the victim. “So - Elmer - will you answer my question, please?”
“What… was it again?”
“The mill where you work - is it wheelchair accessible? It's a serious question.”
“N-no.” Elmer looked like he was ready to pass out any moment.
“It's a shame,” Snape said mildly. “Because if this sort of thing happens again, I assure you, you will be confined to a wheelchair, perhaps indefinitely. I do pity Gemma, who will have to spoon-feed you and look after your bodily functions, but I imagine it'll be for the best.” Snape's hand pressed into Elmer's throat a bit harder. “And, of course, I'll be paying you regular visits to ensure that your limbs REMAIN broken. We understand each other?”
Elmer gave no response to that.
“I suggest you answer him,” Sirius piped in. “He's absolutely insane.”
“Understand,” Elmer muttered.
Snape's grip on his throat didn't relax a single bit.
“By the way, I know what you're thinking now,” Snape continued to talk, very softly. “You're thinking you'll pull Pablo out of the tutoring sessions and give him a thrashing. Then you will tell him and Gemma to stay away from me. You're also thinking that I'm a poof, because I've got a handsome man visiting me almost daily, and you're planning to let all the neighbours know so that it'd make my life here intolerable.”
Elmer's eyes opened wide and genuine terror crossed his face.
“Let me assure you that it makes no difference to me if the entire town knows who visits me. You may broadcast it on the morning radio for all I care. And, as you can see, people's thoughts are easy to read. Therefore, even if Pablo and Gemma don't speak to me, I will still have a way of knowing that something is wrong. And I will be visiting you. A great deal.” Abruptly, Snape released Elmer, who immediately slid down to the floor and the back of his head thudded against the wall.
“Should've never married a wop,” he muttered, tiredly, bitterly.
Snape eyed him with obvious distaste.
“We all make mistakes. Your parents likely shouldn't have reproduced in the first place. But we live and learn, isn't that right?”
Elmer didn't move.
“Now,” Snape added, “I believe we have an understanding. I also believe you were going to agree for me to continue tutoring your son.”
“What does it matter what I agree to or not?” Elmer muttered in a barely audible voice.
“It doesn't. It's a courtesy, nothing more.”
Elmer looked up.
“You can do whatever you want. It's useless. He'll learn, he'll get the grades, and then he'll go to work the mill like the rest of us.”
“I don't believe so,” Sirius interjected, his tone mild. “He seems incredibly bright. I predict he'll be a professor by the time he's thirty. I think it'd be good if, once he leaves home, he thinks of you fondly, and not as of some foul nightmare he'd rather forget.”
Elmer shut his eyes and covered his face with his hands, silent.
“Lets get out of here,” Sirius said, taking a hold of Snape's elbow. “You've made your point, let's go.”
“All right.”
They walked out of the house, nodding goodbyes to Gemma, and headed towards Snape's home.
“I don't understand,” Sirius muttered, once they were out of the earshot, “why doesn't she just call the police, if…”
Snape stopped abruptly and gave a sideways nod in the direction of Elmer's house.
Sirius looked back and saw the middle-aged man, seating on the porch, face buried in his hands and his shoulders shaking. The young woman was stroking his head soothingly, hugging him, whispering something in his ear, pressing her lips to his temple.
“That'd be why,” Snape said, his tone surprisingly bitter.
“That's fucked up,” Sirius said.
Snape shrugged. “What isn't?”
(24)
Pablo took off the moment Snape and Sirius entered the house together. Snape followed him out, and they talked for a while. Sirius was half-listening, as Pablo promised over and over again that he'd not get between parents when they're fighting and run over to Snape's house if something was wrong.
Eventually, Pablo ran off.
Snape returned to the house, gave Sirius a guarded look, but proceeded to bring out the Firewhiskey. They drank at the small kitchen table.
“You surprised me, you know,” Sirius said. “That you did something like that.”
“He's my student,” Snape said matter-of-factly. “Beatings interfere with studies.”
“Oh. So you did it for the money,” Sirius grinned.
“Naturally.”
Sirius gave him a curious look. “Did Dumbledore actually offer you a job at Hogwarts?”
“Are we playing truth or dare?” Snape seemed to actually smile at the thought.
“If you like.”
“Then - yes. He did.”
“What was the job?”
“Defense Against Dark Arts and position of Deputy Headmaster,” Snape said.
“Why did he do that?”
“I've no idea. Maybe he got tired of Hogwarts and decided to run it to the ground.”
Sirius chuckled, amused. “That must be it.”
Snape was watching him intently, unblinkingly, not paying any heed to his amusement.
“I will ask you again: why are you here, Black? What are you doing here?”
Sirius returned his gaze.
“Back in Elmer's house you called me a handsome man.”
“No. Elmer did. Or rather, he thought it.”
“I didn't see you arguing.”
“Oh, for the love of - how big is your ego, Black? I was rather preoccupied, I had no time to argue with the voices in someone else's head.” Snape shook his head tiredly. “I will ask you again, what do you want? What is it?”
Sirius stared at him, taking in his appearance. Snape had taken to wearing Muggle clothing as of late - blue jeans and black shirts, but Sirius could hardly notice the difference. It was strange how Snape now looked every bit he did back in that tent: twitchy, exasperated, a touch of flush on his pale cheekbones.
“What do you want it to be?” Sirius asked again, never taking his eyes off Snape.
“I…”
Sirius rose to his feet and circled the tiny table to walk up to Snape's chair. Snape hadn't moved.
“Snape,” Sirius said softly. “For once in your life, choose the dare.” He leaned in to kiss him.
Snape turned his head away, and Sirius' lips brushed only the corner of his mouth. Snape froze, but he wasn't jumping to his feet, or running away.
“What are you doing, Black?” he asked hoarsely, miserably.
“I'm kissing you. After that, I imagine I'll shag you.” He took a hold of Snape's chin, urging his face upwards. “You know what your problem is, Snape? You think too much. THIS is just sex. Not attachment, not love, not friendship. Just sex. It'll feel good. We'll wake up well-rested and feeling brilliant in the morning. That's all there is to it. “
Still seated in the chair, Snape kissed him back and his hands rose to take hold of Sirius' shoulders, pulling him in.
Sirius didn't quite remember who stared groping whom first, or how they made it upstairs, to Snape's bedroom. He could barely see the bedroom, anyway, it was as if the bedroom wasn't there, and the house wasn't there, it was just them, and the memory of a tiny blue tent in the middle of nowhere, and hands on skin, and more kissing.
Sirius made him strip, and just like BACK THEN, Snape was still reticent about it, almost to the point of being painfully shy, but he did get naked in the end. Sirius trailed a palm down his chest, his fingertips barely coming in contact with the trail of black hair leading all the way down to the groin.
Snape sucked in a long breath, not moving.
“I want to fuck you,” Sirius said.
“Fine,” Snape exhaled, rather than said.
Them tumbled onto the bed. Sirius pinned him down and sucked him first, enjoying the utterly bewildered look on Snape's face. Snape flushed when he came in Sirius' mouth and rolled over to lie on the side.
“Fucking,” Sirius reminded him.
“I trust you know what to do.”
Snape bent his right leg in the knee and lifted it up to allow access.
“Not like that,” Sirius told him. “On your back. I want to see your face.” Unceremoniously, he rolled Snape over to lie on his back. Snape complied, still looking almost mortified. “Just sex,” Sirius reminded him. “It's just sex and feeling good, nothing more.” He cast a quick lubricating spell to coat his fingers, reached for Snape's cleft, found the hole and pushed in. “Well - the' feeling good' thing will only happen if you actually relax your arse, Snape. You're so tight you're about to break my fingers with your rectum.”
Shockingly, Snape laughed at that, and then he did relax.
It was easy after that. Snape breathed in and out, pushed back, and seemed completely lost in all of this. It didn't take long for Sirius to come. Withdrawing, he noticed that Snape got hard again. He sucked him off quickly.
“This was good,” Snape said, once he regained his breath. There was genuine surprise in his voice.
Sirius wanted to say something to that, but when he opened his mouth, he saw that there was no need. Snape was already sound asleep, as if he were knocked out.
Which was just as well. Pillow talk was never one of Sirius' stronger points.
(25)
In the morning, for the first few seconds Sirius genuinely couldn't understand what happened - where he was, or what he did the previous night. He blinked and sat up in bed - the bed that he wasn't recognizing.
The sight of Snape, naked on his back, sound asleep with mouth wide open and his thighs still covered in semen, granted the much needed clarity.
What the fuck came over me? Sirius wondered, as he reached down for his discarded jeans and shirt.
He really didn't want to be looking at Snape.
A wave of revulsion washed over him when Sirius remembered last night.
Somehow, he'd managed to forget everything for that night. Including WHO and WHAT Snape really was. Including the actual reason for coming here.
Instead of making him talk, I fucked him. Fucked him - and enjoyed it. Just wonderful. Sirius let out a loud groan and began to get dressed.
Snape stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes. He stared at Sirius intently.
“That was… interesting,” Snape said.
“Wasn't it just.” Sirius muttered, as he buttoned up his shirt.
Snape, still buck naked, sat up in bed and brought his knees to his chest. He was looking lost again, slightly confused, but generally didn't seem to be any worse for wear.
“It was good with you. I hadn't expected that,” Snape said. His voice was calm, but there was the slightest note of uncertainty in his tone.
More disgusted and angry with himself than he felt in a long time, Sirius decided that he was going to press his advantage. If he couldn't make Snape talk, maybe he could just bluff.
“Why not?” Sirius quipped cheerfully. “Because of what happened two years ago, is that it?” He grinned. “Yes, I do know everything, Snape. I've known for a while now.”
Snape's eyes opened wide.
Good.
“Lily told you?” Snape whispered bitterly.
“No. Not her,” Sirius said, still smiling. “Can you guess who?”
Snape looked away. “Yes. I always suspected he knew.”
“Well, here you go then,” Sirius said amicably. “And for the record - the only one I feel sympathy for is Lil. Though I suppose you deserve a bit of pity, too,” he added, on an impulse. “It's really not your fault that you're such a pathetic….”
Snape didn't let him finish. He leaped to his feet and ran downstairs, still naked, and not seeming to care. Sirius followed him.
In the living room, Snape was rummaging through the bookshelves, looking for something.
“What are you doing, Snape?” Sirius asked.
Snape whirled around, clutching a pensive bowl in his shaking hands. His face was twisted with rage and disgust.
“At least now I understand why you are here,” he hissed. “Of course you knew everything, that's why you were coming! Another one of your oh-so-witty PRANKS! Thought I'd be entertaining, did you, to see how it'd be with someone like me?” Snape's wand shook in his hand. Sirius drew his instantly, but Snape ignored it. He lifted his wand to his own head and began to pull memories, one after another, dropping them into the Pensive receptacle.
“Snape, what are you doing?” Sirius asked again. Snape's talking was disorganized, deranged, and none of it was making sense - not in the way Sirius had expected it to.
Snape grabbed the Pensive receptacle off the table and shoved it into his hands.
“TAKE IT!” he screamed, his face almost inhuman. “You came to have fun, to use up what's left - so take it, go watch it, give it to Potter and Evans, wank to it, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU DO WITH IT, but do not cross the threshold of my house EVER AGAIN!”
Snape gave him a harsh shove, and flicked his wand to open the back door.
“Wait! Snape!”
“GET OUT!” Snape screamed again, his wand pointing at Sirius' throat. “GET OUT!”
Sirius was slow in moving, and Snape's spell hit him squarely in the chest, propelling him out of the house, through the door and into the backyard.
The door to the house slammed shut.
Sirius held the pensive receptacle in his hands. The silver strands swam in it, chasing each others' tails.
He sighed and decided that it didn't make sense to wait. Without bothering to Apparate away, he dove in to the mist of Snape's memories.
The sunlight nearly blinded him.
(26)
The sun was high in the perfectly blue cloudless sky. The golden grass was tall, swaying slightly in the faintest breeze of the wind. It was like standing in an ocean of pure sunshine - as far as the eye could see.
Lily and Severus were sitting in the tall grass that concealed them almost completely; all Sirius could see was Lily's bare shoulder and the streams of blindingly-red hair, and Snape's head, poking out of the field a few feet away.
“Severus. You're just sitting there. And staring at me.”
“I know. I can't move.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I am thinking I should die right this moment. I don't think I'll ever see anything so beautiful in my entire life. Or be as happy.”
“So best quit while you're still ahead?” Lily laughed.
“Something like that, yes.”
“Fine then! While you are lying here, taking your last breath, I suppose I'll just get dressed and go home, and…”
There was moment's pause, and then Snape's bare chest flashed as he leaped ahead, and threw himself at her. The grass drowned the sight of them.
“Seems like you can move, after all,” Lily teased.
Snape's laughter answered her.
The scene shifted again, and daylight faded away.
It was night. The lake was dark, and there was a small blanket on the pebbly beach. Lily and Snape lay side by side, their hands touching. The sky above them was peppered with stars.
“Some people say there's no love,” Lily said. “That you don't ever really love the other person, you only love yourself - they way you are with them.”
“Do you think that's true?” Snape asked.
“I don't know. There could be some truth to it. Whenever I am with you - I think myself to be this…” She laughed quietly, “this incredible, fairy-tale woman. I suppose when I'm with you, I always feel a better person than I really am.”
Snape didn't answer, but his fingers laced with hers.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I don't know,” he whispered, his face perfectly peaceful. “When I'm with you, I don't really think about myself.”
The scene shifted one more time.
The stony walls were bare save for the smoldering torches that provided poor lighting for the enormous hall. Surrounded by a crowd of hooded figures, Snape was standing perfectly still, unnaturally so, and it took no expert to see that he was under a body-binding spell.
A soft moan was heard. Sirius spun around and froze, nearly forgetting he was just a disembodied presence in someone else's memories.
Lily was stretched out on a long table. Sirius took in a deep breath when he saw the array of glistening metal tools laid out on a tray in front of it. The jagged edges reflected the dim light of the torches.
Lily turned her head to stare at Severus and gave him a weak smile.
“Two little darlings, lost alone in the woods, far away from their own kind,” one of the men intoned softly, mockingly, as he broke off from the crowd and approached Lily. “Such a pretty little red bird you are.” His fingers carded through her hair. “How do you like your cage?”
Lily remained silent.
“It'll be a shame to destroy something so beautiful,” his finger trailed down Lily's chest, moving on to her belly. “We should make good use of it first.”
“Don't,” Snape said suddenly, sharply.
The hooded figure turned to him.
“This is very entertaining. Please, tell me - why not?
“There must be something else that you'd want,” Snape said. His voice faltered only a bit.
Laughter followed.
“If you're offering yourself in her place, I'm afraid that won't do. You're not much too look at, you understand.”
“I know,” Snape conceded. “But I'll do anything.”
“Anything?” There was a note of interest in the man's voice.
“Yes. Anything you say - if you don't touch her.”
The man approached Snape and cupped his chin. “You think you can be sufficiently entertaining - to keep us away from her? You must have quite an ego.”
“That's what I'm told,” Snape said, his voice shockingly calm.
The captor chuckled benignly. “We'll see about that, I suppose. Feel free to make us an offer. Feel free to disrobe, humiliate yourself, crawl and beg, beg to suck cock, beg to be fucked. If you're sufficiently persuasive, and if there's enough of you to go around, perhaps we can forego playing with the little red bird for the time being.”
“SEVERUS, DON'T!” Lily screamed in a terrible voice.
The captor laughed again. “You're upsetting her, Severus. Don't you care?”
“Not particularly,” Snape didn't look in Lily s direction.
She howled again, as if in unbearable pain, and twisted in her restraints so hard, it looked like she was going to break her own wrists.
“We have an understanding then?” the captor asked, staring at Snape.
“We do,” Snape said. A brief tremor crossed his face, and then he was calm again.
“And while you're doing all this, do you prefer her screaming - or silenced?”
“Silenced, I suppose,” Snape said, quite indifferently.
The last of Lily's scream was drowned by a silencing spell. The second spell took Snape's restraints off, leaving him free to move.
For the briefest of moments, Snape stared around wildly, like an animal, cornered and driven to the brink of madness. But then, whatever he was thinking, he chose to let it go.
Snape reached for the collar of his shirt and began to undress.
* There was more, but Sirius pulled out of the Pensive before he could see another thing. He opened his mouth, wanting to scream - and couldn't make a sound.
PART FOUR
THE SHADOW OF THE WOLF
Family and friends
Becoming ghosts to dream of and pass on
Time will erase every face every name
(27)
Sirius wasn't sure how long he spent pounding on Snape's door, frantically, maniacally. It seemed like a long time - enough to be able to think about everything: his own reaction to Snape, his exchanges with Snape as of late, the last night that they had together, all the things he'd said to Snape -- and become more and more horrified.
There was no answer for a while, and Sirius was already reaching for his wand to force his way back in, when the door finally swung upon. Snape was standing at the doorstep - in his usual blue jeans and black shirt. His face was absolutely expressionless.
“I see you haven't finished watching,” Snape said dryly. “What's wrong, Black? Memories aren't as good as the real thing?”
“I…” Sirius shook his head, grabbed the pensive bowl and thrust it into Snape's hands, pushing past him into the house. Unsteadily, he walked to the kitchen table, sank onto a chair and went limp in it.
Snape followed him shortly, and sat down across the table from him. The pensive bowl was set on the table between them.
“You had no idea,” Snape said flatly. “You knew nothing. You were bluffing.”
“Yes,” Sirius groaned. “Bluffing. Snape - look…”
Snape scoffed. “I find it highly ironic. All this time - hiding it, fearing that someone would somehow discover… and then, I fall for the oldest trick in the book.” He let out a resigned sigh. “I wonder why I did.”
“Why didn't you tell anything to anyone?” Sirius demanded. “People were thinking you were some kind of monster!”
“That was fine by me,” Snape said coolly. “Black, come on, put yourself in my place. Can you imagine yourself telling anyone? Dumbledore? Flitwick? Potter? Longbottom? Could you stand them KNOWING?”
“No,” Sirius admitted. "I don't think so."
“You see my difficulty.”
Sirius nodded cautiously. Snape wasn't screaming at him, wasn't reaching for the wand or doing anything rash, and that was a good start, and yet, this quiet chat had the sense of calm before a storm.
“I still don't understand what happened between you and Lil,” Sirius said.
“What's there to understand? She'd look at me - and remember all that had gone on there.” Snape shook his head.
“You could have given it more time - and tried again…”
“She didn't want to try,” Snape said sharply. “Black, I know no more than you do about how romantic affections form, and what is the breaking point that could wipe them clean. I only know that what happened there - wiped away all that we had.”
“You saved her.”
“That made her grateful, and that made her hate herself, but that was all.” Snape scowled. “She was right to end it. I was so desperate for her - so desperate to have her again, I would have settled for gratitude and nothing more. “He smiled bitterly. “I doubt I'd have known the difference, either.” His scowl deepened, when he continued, “I suppose, in the end I was rather harsh with her - demanding that she tells no-one. ”
“You can say that again.”
Snape shrugged. “I've never been particularly gifted in the sympathy department, Black. She knew that about me when she went with me. At the end of the day what I did have to give, wasn't enough.”
“Nothing ever is,” Sirius whispered. “Rem said as much.”
“What are you talking about?” Snape's voice faltered a bit.
“He was the other one, wasn't he?” Sirius checked. “The one who knew?”
Snape winced. “Even in that, you bluffed. Yes, Lupin knew. He was the first one to get to the two of us. It was just before the full moon, you remember. His senses are heightened then. He smells things. He senses things. He KNOWS things.” Snape let out a deep breath. “I looked at him and I knew that he could smell the others on me. And the way he looked at me and Evans - it was as if he KNEW that we weren't a pair anymore, that we were broken. He knew before either of us realized that.” Snape was silent for a minute, then added, “I kept waiting for something to go off. I kept waiting for him to say something. But he never did. He never spoke to me, either - not that I'd have heard him out. As time went on, I began to believe that I had imagined the entire thing. “
“You hadn't,” Sirius said. “He knew. He kept quiet, because he knew that some things aren't meant to be spoken of. Not without permission. You understand now why he left, don't you?”
Snape sat up in his chair.
“Black, do not tell me…”
“You don't get it, do you?” Sirius cried out desperately. “We were HIS PACK! He knew what you did for HER - and it wasn't enough. He couldn't say anything to anyone, because it wasn't allowed - and he saw the two of us at each other's throats, tearing each other apart, and he knew that it'd never be over, you'd never speak, and I'd never trust you again, and nothing HE could ever do - without actually saying anything - would be enough. We shut him out, both of us.” Sirius added, quieter, “He left because his own turned against each other, became enemies, he could have prevented it - but wasn't allowed to. And when your pack is broken like that, nothing's left. Without your own, there's no life at all.”
For about a minute Snape was very still. His face remained completely blank, and his eyes were shut. Eventually he asked,
“Black. What do you want to do?”
Sirius took a deep breath. “Do you suppose you could dismantle the wards around the asylum?”
Snape sighed. “I've dismantled the booby traps around the Redwood Estate. Whatever the Finns came up with couldn't be more difficult.” He stood up abruptly and gave Sirius a curt nod. “I'll review the notes I have - just in case. You get us the Portkey and come back here at once.”
(28)
In the end it wasn't a single Portkey that they had to use - but a series of them, all illegal. Snape didn't seem to be particularly bothered by the prospect.
After several hours of illegal Portkeying and Apparition they stood in front of the rather dilapidated wooden fence, tall, but rather frail in appearance.
“Looks are deceiving,” Sirius said. “It's one of the strongest boundaries I've ever seen.”
Snape nodded and pulled out his wand.
It took him a good hour to breach the wards and puncture a sizable hole in the fence. They entered the breach together and looked around. Sirius had visited here before - and each time he was shocked at how dreary the surroundings were - a gloomy landscape, peppered with small huts, a single rusty gate, wards set to let the wolf out and not permit anyone in.
“Charming,” Snape said dryly. “Where is his home?”
“He usually stays there,” Sirius pointed at the hut several hundred feet away.
“Let's go.”
They barely made two steps in, when a scruffy looking elderly man, a rifle behind his back, crossed their path.
“Magnus,” Sirius greeted him. “Don't shoot. It's just us.”
“He said he doesn't want to see you,” Magnus' bushy eyebrows formed a deep scowl. “What are you doing here?”
“We just want to talk,” Sirius said calmly. “One last time. That's all.”
Magnus looked away. “He's not here. It was his time to go free. Last night he took his potion and went into the hut. The hut is empty now. The woods are his.” Magnus' waved his arm in the direction of the black strip of forest in the distance.
“I don't believe it,” Sirius sprinted towards the hut and Snape followed him closely.
It was empty of course - a single wooden bed, a bucket of water on the damp ground, a wooden table with an empty glass on it, and nothing else.
Snape leaned against the wall, and shut his eyes.
“Black,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Could you find him? In the forest?”
“And what would you have me do?” Sirius shot back. “Bring the wolf back home? He won't be Rem anymore.”
“I don't know,” Snape admitted. “Maybe - if I study the potions they've used here - maybe the human isn't all gone. Maybe there's still a way to get him back. If he recognizes you, if he comes with you - bring him back.” Desperation shone in Snape's eyes. “You'll try, won't you?”
Sirius gave him a quick nod. “You stay put inside and ward the door. Last thing I want is for you to get bit by a werewolf - that'd be just the grand conclusion to the already perfect night.”
“Understood,” Snape said tiredly. “I'll wait for you.”
(29)
Padfoot returned in the morning - wet, miserable, scratched up and alone. Snape slept on the wooden bed and looked miserable - even in his sleep. Padfoot nuzzled his hand and climbed onto the bed awkwardly, stretching beside him. Snape's hand stroked his hair absently.
“Didn't find him?” Snape whispered.
Padfoot growled a quiet apology and stilled under Snape's touch.
“Black,” Snape whispered, stroking his back, “Sirius. Come back. Please. Talk to me. I can't stand it.”
Padfoot sighed and obeyed. The transformation came difficult. Everything felt sharper in human form - the loneliness, the misery, the despair. Perhaps, Rem was onto something with the choice he made.
“I didn't find him,” Sirius said. “I caught his scent a few times, but it was faded, faint. I was running in circles. I'd lose it, then find it again, and lose it again.” He groaned tiredly, painfully. “He must have run in these woods alone so many times by now, I can almost smell him everywhere - a faded him, a memory of him. And I can't find HIM.”
Snape's hand gripped his shoulder. “Let's go home, Black.”
“The Portkeys were one way only,” Sirius said in a voice so blank and normal that it shocked even himself. “We'll have to take the long route back.”
Snape had no objections to that.
The journey back took them across Sweden and Norway. They were silent much of the time, as the words seemed to have run out.
The final point before departing back to London was Esbjerg, and its grey pavements and red brick town square made Sirius feel that they were back in Manchester already, and Pablo was just next door, ready to run to Snape's home. To his surprise, Sirius realized he was missing it - Snape's home, more than he missed his own flat in London.
They sat down in a Muggle pub and ordered a pitcher of beer. The stuff was absolutely foul, but neither felt like complaining.
“You know,” Snape confessed, “Ever since I joined the Order, my greatest fear had been - that someday, I'd make a mistake. I wouldn't be quick enough, strong enough, clever enough, I'd use the wrong spell - and someone'd die because of me. Never did I think it'd come to pass this way.”
“Rem didn't…” Sirius started to say, but Snape waved him off dismissively.
“In a way, we both killed him,” Snape said, and changed the subject abruptly. “Tell me, how is Evans doing?”
“Fine,” Sirius said, then, met with Snape's intense stare, amended, “Not great. You know her, she keeps her word. Whatever she remembers, she remembers alone.”
Snape nodded to that. “I may never understand some people's need to SPEAK of the less than pleasant things they've been through, but if it gives her some solace, you can tell her she can do that -- speak to whoever she wants. I release her from her word.” He let out a deep sigh. “How much is pride worth?”
“Or hate,” Sirius offered.
“Yes.” Snape kept staring at him. “What will you do now?”
“I start teaching…” Sirius frowned. “Actually, I should have started teaching two days ago. I suppose I should have owled Albus - ah, fuckitall.”
“He'll take you back,” Snape dismissed.
“I'm not so sure I want to go back now. Too many memories.”
“Of Remus.”
“Yes. Of us.” Sirius gave Snape a quick glance. “Think you can handle sharing a house?”
Snape shrugged at that. “It's a bit late too ask. You've all but moved yourself in.”
“I could leave,” Sirius said. “If that's what you want. Really.”
“I know you could,” Snape said. “Don't.”
They kissed briefly, cautiously. Nobody in the pub seemed to care or even notice.
Sirius filled up their glasses and lifted his.
“To Remus,” he said. “Good hunting to him.”
Snape's glass chimed against his.
“Good hunting,” he said.
(30)
Snape's street greeted him with the familiar comfort of something known. There were the red brick houses that looked all the same, and the filthy river not far away, and quiet music playing in Pablo's house. Elmer was toiling in the garden. When Snape and Sirius passed him, Elmer turned away, not saying a word.
“I suppose we've made an enemy,” Sirius said.
“I hope so. What's life without them,” Snape said.
They slowed down their pace, approaching the house. Sirius stared at it, wondering if this would be one of those things that also turn out 'not enough' in the end. What did they have, really - a shared guilt, a memory of something that could have been?
Snape turned to him and gave him a small nod.
“I don't know, either,” he said quietly, as if in response to Sirius' unvoiced thoughts. “Frankly, I don't care anymore. I'm done trying to understand whether something is 'enough' or not. You're here. I am here. Pablo is coming over tomorrow to study. That's all there is to it.”
Snape pushed the door open and walked in. Sirius followed him and bumped into him, because Snape halted in his footsteps abruptly, staring blankly at his couch.
Remus slept on it, having left mud tracks with his boots on the armrest. A half-eaten sandwich from Snape's fridge and an empty milk packet completed the picture.
Sirius stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. He'd forgotten how beautiful Rem looked when he slept, and how peaceful his face was, even in the most troubled times.
Remus stirred and sighed in his sleep, then opened his eyes.
The silence continued to stretch, seeming unbearable.
“Lupin,” Snape said in a perfectly calm voice, “You make very free with my kitchen and my couch.”
Remus nodded. “I do. I also can smell things this time of month. Different things.” Amber eyes stared at the two of them. “I thought you wouldn't mind.”
Snape gave him the smallest of nods.
“What took you so long?” Remus asked, staring at the two of them intently. “Were you looking for me?”
“Of course not,” Snape said in a perfectly cool voice. “Don't be ridiculous. We just went to Finland on a completely unrelated matter.”
“Of course. How silly of me.”
Sirius found his voice finally.
“Why did you come back?”
Remus stared at him, unblinking. “Should I leave?”
“No! Fuck, don't you dare, just tell me - why? And how? We found your hut, and your potion was gone…”
“I poured it on the ground,” Remus said. “Then, I ran. I don't remember how many time I Apparated, and how much I just ran. I may have swam part of the way, I'm not sure. It's all a blur.”
“Why?” Sirius asked again, desperate to hear it. “Why did you come back?”