Shade More Than Man

by Acamar [archived by ISF_Archivist]

Summary:

Set six years after the Goblet of Fire, and almost a year after Voldemort has been defeated. How has the wizarding society changed as the aftermath of the war? How are people coping with the world around them, and with the past? Why are Sirius Black and Severus Snape sleeping in one, four poster bed?

Notes:

Thanks: First and foremost, to Kalena, who believed I could write. To all my beta readers: Tracey, Emcee, Johanna and moj; and to Claire and Alla.
A/N: As I'm not a native speaker of English, I needed a lot of help to weed out grammar, spelling and stylistic mistakes. There are undoubtedly many still left. If anything catches your eye, please let me know. It's the first story I've ever written--your feedback is very important to me. Don't be afraid to be critical, as long as you are constructive. Um. You know.

The title of the story has been inspired by the following poem by Anthony Weir:

SHADE MORE THAN MAN

     My bones were formed by sorrow 

      as shrines are built by doubt 

          Sorrow of being 

          Doubt of becoming 

           Sweat upon sand 

          Tide in, tide out 

              Inevitable 

               invisible 

           shipwreck in fog 

       I make soup for tomorrow 

            lost like a dog 

       between doubt and sorrow.

Shade More Than Man

Chapter 1

Sirius Black strode along the corridor down to the dungeons and tried to prepare himself mentally for the conversation. It wasn't going to be easy or pleasant, but it had to be done. Whatever else he had become, he was not a coward.

He stood outside Snape's quarters and waited politely for the detection charms to notify the host of his arrival.

//Maybe he's not in,// the traitorous whisper supplied eagerly from the back of his mind. Sirius stifled it quickly, and wiped his sweating face with his hand. Suddenly he was trembling again, his heart pounding desperately in his chest, a suffocating ambivalence of fear and rage coursing through his soul. He wanted to howl; it would help to let it all out in a mindless sound of hopelessness--but men didn't howl, and he was still a man. Instead, he leaned his head on the cold stone of Snape's door and took a long, shuddering breath. //Soon, it won't matter. Soon.//

"Black." Only Snape could infuse one short word with such rich layers of indifferent dislike and detached disgust. He was standing in the open door and coldly surveying Sirius' mangled appearance.

"Severus. May I come in?" He managed to collect himself and get his voice to sound almost normal.

Snape merely raised his eyebrow.

"I need to speak to you. It won't take long." That small despicable part of himself was whispering urgently again, //maybe he won't let me in, maybe he won't talk, then it won't be my fault.// He pinched the bridge of his nose to cover the panic.

Snape, evidently resigned to the intrusion, gestured him in and closed the door. They sat in the dilapidated, sunken armchairs, facing each other. Snape, Sirius noted, looked curiously like a porcelain statue, his face blank and white and unmoving.

"You wanted to talk."

"Yes..." He swept his hand over his face again, forcing himself to coherence, subduing the unreasonable wave of panic that solidified his guts and made it difficult to breathe. "Severus, I came to apologise for what I did to you back at school. For telling you to follow Remus."

"For trying to kill me." Snape's voice was hollow, restrained.

"No! No, I didn't. I never wanted to hurt you, not like that." That was why he had come, the real reason. Not for forgiveness--soon, he wouldn't need that--but to explain. Erase at least a small bit of the hurt he'd done. "Severus, please try to believe me. Whatever nasty little pranks I played on you, I never wanted to hurt anything besides your pride..."

"That's why you tried to feed me to a transformed werewolf. I see..." Snape said, with the familiar, sarcastic twist to his lips.

Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath, images from that horrible day six years ago assaulting in his mind again... or was it nine years... no. //No, that was more than 20 years ago, you idiot. Keep it together, at least long enough to explain.// He released the air with effort and grasped for the words he had prepared so carefully, now all forgotten.

"This isn't easy to explain..."

Snape didn't let him finish. "No, it's perfectly easy to explain. You made me go alone to the lair of a rabid, blood-hungry Dark creature, but it was all just for fun, wasn't it?" A hint of bitterness belied the ostentatious mockery of Snape's voice.

"HE WAS MY FRIEND!!" Belatedly, Sirius realised he was yelling, and made an effort to keep his voice down. "It was REMUS, Severus. I played with him. We rolled on the grass and growled... I licked his fur and he licked mine. He never tried to hurt me when he was a wolf. I couldn't believe that he would. He was the nicest, most polite and self-conscious boy I've ever known, and I simply... wasn't able to believe there was a beast in him. I knew that; I had been told that he was dangerous, but... all I ever saw told me differently and I simply couldn't... I was a boy, Severus! And he was my best friend, not some nameless Dark creature from the Forest. It was all so unreal then; I wasn't able to understand the reality of danger and death until much later... we used to sneak into the Forbidden Forest for fun, for Merlin's sake!"

He was out of breath, blood pounding deafeningly in his ears again. He swallowed and tried one more time; he owed Snape this explanation, and he was going to pay his debt.

"All I wanted was to scare you. You were such an insufferable know-it-all back then. I wanted to show you the secret you had no idea existed! Severus, please don't think I'm looking for excuses. I was much worse than an idiot back then. I'd never even stopped to think what you'd do with the secret once you knew it... I was so convinced everything would turn out just like I wished..."

"How... Gryffindor. Friendship and loyalty before reason," Snape said, leaning forward, his eyes glittering strangely. "A prime example of what a 'think with your heart' attitude will bring about. May I ask--why did you actually find it necessary to explain it to me just now?"

"I didn't want you to think I ever wanted you dead." Sirius answered simply. That earned him another raised eyebrow, and he felt his temper flare again. "Well, I didn't! You were always making such a fuss over this, over how I thought you no better than dog food! All I wanted was to see you pee in your pants when you saw him... I was going to be right behind you, I wouldn't have let you get hurt. And I actually thought that once you knew, it would make you one of us, somehow, and that you would be decent enough not to reveal Remus' secret. That you would have to be on our side."

"You wanted me to be, what, a friend?" Incredulous. "Why? Because I helped you with Potions once or twice? Or," Snape sneered, his lips twisted in an ugly grimace, "did you want to make me your own pet project, like James with that... Pettigrew?"

Sirius decided there was no point discussing that or trying to convince Snape. He had come here to deliver his speech, and that was done. Whether Snape felt better about it or not was really beyond his reach now. He shifted in the uncomfortable chair, rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

"Look. I did a horrible thing. It cost me my friendship with Remus. My stupidity almost killed him too, or worse. Ultimately, it put me in Azkaban, because he was ready to believe I was capable of killing a friend. If you need revenge, remember I spent the last..." //how much? how long was it?// "... couple of years reliving that horrid night over and over again, along with the night I found James and Lily." The howl threatened to break free again. //I can't stand it anymore.//

Snape was watching him curiously now, his long white fingers steepled and a strange expression of fascinated interest on his usually unreadable face. Sirius thought Snape was probably cataloguing the red-rimmed eyes, gaunt face and shabby robes of his guest and wondering whether the description 'raving madman' applied. Well, it did.

"Did you actually come here to make me feel better, Black?"

"Yes!" Yes, he understood finally. Good. He could go. No more of this humiliation.

"Mm." Snape got up suddenly and swept by Sirius. "Would you like some tea?"

"What--?" Sirius, who had already started getting up, fell back again. The chair creaked in protest and wobbled dangerously as he twisted to see what Snape was doing. His host was just pouring hot water into two teacups.

"Tea?" Without waiting for an answer, Snape put a steaming mug in front of him, adding sugar and milk. Not wanting to destroy the fragile peace they had somehow achieved--although how and why was beyond his understanding--Sirius swallowed a sip and leaned back into the chair.

They spent a few minutes drinking in silence, until Sirius felt the need to talk again. Something Snape had said tugged a thread in his mind, something about misguided loyalty.

"You said... it was Gryffindor stupidity to think with your heart. That's how he managed to get me to switch with him, you know. I failed in exactly the same way, twice," he said bitterly.

Snape frowned for a moment. "Pettigrew...?"

"Yes. He was... talking about always being left out, about being too weak to really make a difference in the war. He kept saying he was of no use to us. I wanted... I thought it was a great opportunity for him. He was a natural at hiding and keeping secrets, after all. He could transform into a rat and go into hiding if someone threatened him... I was so bloody naive."

"It seems to me that the mistake to trust him was James', from the very beginning" Snape observed mildly.

Sirius didn't have an answer for that. He shrugged and wondered if this was when he should leave.

"Tell me, did you give an owl to that Weasley boy after you ran from Azkaban?" Snape asked in a tone of mild interest.

Owl? Severus was even weirder than Sirius remembered. "Yes, I did. Why? Did the owl hurt someone...?"

"Mm. May I ask why you went to the trouble of buying a pet for a complete stranger?"

Bewildered, Sirius strove to explain. "What else could I do? The boy had lost his pet in such an ugly, confusing and terrifying way. Remember, he had his rat for a long time. That... that thing slept in his bed. He carried it around and cared for it. It was all I could do to find him another animal to try to take his mind off this abomination. I thought another rat would be a bad idea, a reminder... So, an owl," he finished awkwardly. Why was he explaining it, anyway?

Snape nodded to himself, and cast Sirius a strange, expectant look, as if searching for something in his face. Sirius managed to notice that Snape's eyes were almost completely unthawed, now... but it was getting darker and quieter, and the room was spinning slowly around him. Without a struggle, he submitted gratefully to the numbing sleep.

~o~

//He was standing in suffocating darkness, alone and helpless. James and Remus appeared, smiling, and winking. Then suddenly they transformed into white, gleaming skeletons that grinned widely at him. He fought to scream, but didn't manage to get the sound out of his throat. Someone put a hand on his arm and it was Snape, reaching to remove his frozen porcelain mask, revealing a scared young boy's face, horrible and bloody... He flailed and flailed, wanting to run but his legs wouldn't carry him...//

Sirius woke with a muffled scream, tried to get up, and fell back on the bed, exhausted. //Where am I?// A small, round room, one tiny window near the ceiling letting in yellowish, miserable light. Musty smell of old walls and old furniture... Right, the dungeon. He tried to get up again and found he couldn't, although he was able to move freely in the bed. He realised, idly, that the encroachment on his freedom didn't bother him at all.

"I see you are awake." Snape was standing in the doorway, holding a stoppered vial. He looked as cold and collected as ever, though the short, white sleeping shirt ruined the air of severity to a great extent. He had, Sirius observed muzzily, very nice legs.

"How are you feeling?"

"Numb." Sirius tore his eyes away from the translucent sleeping shirt and tried to focus. "Why am I in your bed?"

Snape muttered something noncommittal and uncorked the vial. "Here. Drink this." Sirius opened his mouth and swallowed the bitter, stinking fluid without even a token resistance. Realisation blinked suddenly through the haze.

"You dosed my tea."

Snape smirked smugly. "Indeed. A veritable greasy bastard, as you were certainly going to point out."

"What did you just give me?" //Does it matter?//

"Powdered Vandal Root, passionflower, Goat Weed and Skullcap, augmented by weevil's snout extract and the fermented spleen of a blind eel. And don't ask me what kind of weevil; it's a proprietary potion that I'm going to patent soon."

Fermented spleen--! Sirius felt his stomach try to crawl up his oesophagus and gulped with difficulty. He was sure his expression said clearly that he would not ask.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Snape had evidently decided to be difficult.

Too weak to fight, Sirius spent some time watching the fascinating patterns of lichens on the dungeon's ceiling. His eyelids were heavy and his mind was blissfully empty. "How long is it going to last?"

"Until it wears off and I give you another dose. Now, eat." Sometime during his daze, Snape must have summoned a tray of food from the kitchens. Sirius felt his throat constrict slightly at the thought of eating, and turned his face away.

"Later. Severus, why did you sedate me with this goat bane potion and--"

"Goat WEED! Goat weed, you insufferable idiot! Can't you remember anything you've learned? Goat's Bane is highly poisonous; it's a variety of aconite!" Severus wound down slowly from his fit of temper. He hadn't changed at all, it seemed; Sirius had a flashback to the time Snape had been forced to tutor him in Potions.

"Goat weed," he acquiesced. "Why?"

Severus twisted his mouth in an unpleasant grimace and sat down next to the bed. "It was obvious," he began, choosing words cautiously, "that you were on the verge of some kind of a breakdown yesterday. During our conversation, I was able to ascertain beyond doubt that you were suffering from Soul-Rot-- your uncharacteristic need to make peace was perhaps the most striking evidence of that. Given your impulsive nature, I concluded that it would be best to restrain you. Temporarily."

Sirius blinked slowly and returned to watching the ceiling. "Soul-Rot?" he asked finally. That sounded ugly.

"After Azkaban, it was only to be expected!" Snape answered sharply. "It's astonishing you managed to survive for so long, let alone retain your sanity. Have you received any medical help at all?"

"When? First, I was an escaped criminal, then there was war... And I don't think... I think it wasn't that bad before. I had those flares of temper..." Snape's expression showed he remembered them clearly. "But it wasn't that bad. I wasn't expected to..."

"To what? Think?" Snakes, that git was as nasty as ever. Still, Sirius couldn't muster enough energy to be angry.

"To fit in. To be an adult. To behave... normally." There. He had said it. "Later--I didn't ask for help. I don't want to end up at St. Mungo's."

"So you've decided to kill yourself instead?" Snape's cool, sneering demeanour was a bit artificial.

"Not kill, no..." Sirius sighed and wondered how to say it. "I wanted... to do what I did in Azkaban, when the despair became unbearable. I decided that since I make a poor man, I could at least try to be a decent dog." Snape raised his eyebrows, indicating he didn't follow. "I decided to achieve Final Transmutation."

"Final transmutation? But you'd need a Philosopher's..." Snape frowned, and then understanding hit. "Animagus! You are talking about becoming an animal!"

"Yes."

Snape seemed agitated. "And how is that different from dying? Would you care to explain? Have you thought about what it would mean to Lupin? To Potter's son?"

Sirius swept a hand over his face and sighed. How to explain that blissful oblivion to someone else? "I've already told you I'm not very close with Remus anymore. Anyway... I think he'll understand. As for Harry... He's actually getting along with Remus quite well. Remus had always provided better guidance to the boy than me. I can't even deal with the fact that I have an adult godson... how could I be a father to him?" It was difficult to force words through his constricted throat. "Last thing he needs in his life is the burden of a madman."

Snape fell silent for a long while at that. Finally, he got up and pushed the tray at Sirius. "Eat. Or the house elves will iron their ears."

Sirius ate quietly, grateful for the change of topic. He felt calmer than yesterday--Severus' potion, whatever weevil was mutilated for it, seemed to be doing a good job. //Had he ever brewed a potion that wouldn't work?//

"Can you transform now?" Snape asked suddenly.

Sirius reached inside himself and tried to change. It didn't work. "No. What did you do to me?"

"The charms on this bed--I got them from the Weasley twins. Fred and George. They seem to be as effective as they promised."

Despite everything, Sirius felt himself smile. "You buy your charms in joke shops?" Unexpectedly, Snape smiled back.

"Not many people know that 'The Prankster' was only a front for a research laboratory that provided Aurors with quite a lot of... shall we say, ingenious magical devices during the war. Since the gentlemen spent their seven years at Hogwarts specialising in disarming protective charms, setting traps for unwary teachers and sowing general mayhem... well, they had enough experience and wit for that job."

"I don't think I've ever met them. The charm's quite a piece of work." He tried to move around in the bed, testing the bounds. "It's rather comfortable."

"I should hope so." Snape said with a suffering expression.

"Hmm. Where did you sleep?"

"In a chair."

//What a martyr.// "You could have slept in the bed with me. There's enough room for two," he said. The bed was huge--a heavy, ancient device with four posts and a curving headboard, probably hauled from some old storeroom at Hogwarts.

"So that we would both be unable to get up in the morning? Thank you, but no. Besides," Snape added primly, "I didn't want to catch fleas."

The mockingly childish retort made Sirius smile again. "I don't have fleas. I told you, I'm a decent dog."

"Is it difficult? The Final Transmutation?" Curious, Snape moved the chair closer to the bed.

"No, the other way round. It's difficult to avoid it, at a certain stage. That's why Animagus study is restricted and controlled so tightly. Once you... lose the grip on your human mind, the transformation becomes irreversible."

"We had an Animagus incident here a few years ago," Snape said. "It involved a seventh year, Draco Malfoy--your godson might have mentioned him. It took weeks to remove the whiskers."

"What did he do?"

"He didn't like the animal he was transforming into. He tried to stop it and got stuck in the middle." Did Snape snicker? "You see, the poor boy got to be a ferret..."

Sirius smiled companionably but didn't understand the reasons for Snape's strange hilarity. "He didn't like ferrets? Wanted to be something else?"

"Oh, you had to be there..." Snape collected himself finally. "Let's say he had reasons to dislike ferrets."

"Was he Lucius' son?" Sirius wondered what kind of a child that uptight prick would raise.

"Yes. Fortunately he didn't have his father's... dedication."

"Still, to waste so much work and study--illegal study--just because you didn't like the animal... it's weird." Sirius thought back to the times of the Marauders, researching, painstakingly exercising, cautiously testing... Nostalgia swept over him, and he cleared his throat to keep his balance.

"That's Draco. All about appearances." Snape smiled fondly. He must have liked that boy. Good at Potions, no doubt. "I understand the exact kind of animal is chosen by an Animagus himself at some subconscious level? Would you mind telling me how you ended up being a dog?"

"I always liked dogs... and I think I had a right personality for one, maybe." He decided to ignore Snape's smirking. "And partly, I think it's because of my name--I always liked Astronomy..." Snape's face turned politely blank. "Oh, even you must get out of this dungeon and see the stars sometimes! Sirius--the Dog Star?"

"Ah. I see. Potter was what, a stag? How very fitting."

"I wonder what animal you would be," Sirius said maliciously.

"If you mention a vulture, I'm going to hurt you." This time, he got the joke, remembering Harry's and Remus' tales and letters, and snickered along with Snape. It was so good to talk with someone who knew who he was, back then, before prison. God, he hadn't seen Lupin for so long...

~o~

"I need to pee," Sirius said gruffly. He had spent the previous day dozing off, and, embarrassingly, couldn't remember going to the bathroom. What time was it, anyway? The tiny window let in a gray, depressing light. Early afternoon? "Hey! You hear me?"

Snape looked up from his book distractedly. "Then pee. The bed will clean itself."

"I WILL NOT PISS IN THE BED!" If anything, Snape seemed faintly amused by his outburst. "Severus, have mercy!" he asked plaintively, trying not to whine.

"Oh, all right." Snape got up with an air of suffering. "Hold on." He disappeared for several minutes, leaving Sirius to wonder whether he had just moved somewhere else to read in quiet. Then he returned and told Sirius to get up. The charms had been deactivated, it seemed. Sirius slid his feet to the floor and tried to stand up. His knees buckled, though, and he would have fallen if Snape hadn't caught his arm.

"... Sorry," he muttered, chagrined, trying to fight off the wave of dizziness. Shaking his head only seemed to make it worse. His eyes wouldn't focus on the same spot.

"Your body needs time to get used to the potion," Snape explained. "After several days, you'll be able to function normally, although I wouldn't advise flying or casting complicated charms."

Snape slung Sirius' arm around his shoulder, walked him to a small bathroom, and helped him sit down on a large toilet bowl. He was, Sirius thought dimly, a very efficient caretaker.

"Do you think you can manage by yourself from here?" Snape asked bitingly. Sirius simply nodded, too tired to counter the jibe. Snape regarded him for a moment, frowning uncertainly, then left the room.

Sirius peed, then, still sitting on the bowl, reached towards the wash basin to wash his hands and rinse his mouth. The bathroom was small and cramped, with a big antique brass bathtub standing proudly on four enormous lion paws. He rose up cautiously and tried to get in the tub, falling and banging his elbow on the sides. Snape, alarmed by the noise, stuck his head through the door to see Sirius sitting huddled in the cold, empty tub.

"I'd like to take a bath," he explained, unnecessarily. Snape muttered something and opened the taps, filling the tub with deliciously warm water.

"Do you need me to wash your back?" The question was probably devised as another taunt, but Sirius decided to take it at face value and nodded. Snape grimaced and sat behind him on the brass rim. Sirius felt the scrape of a sponge on his back; six times clockwise, rinse, soap, six times anti-clockwise... His head grew heavy and he leaned it in on something warm and pliant that turned out to be Snape's thigh. Snape looked worried for some reason; he continued with the washing, though, thorough and systematic as always.

Sirius didn't remember how he got back to the bed.

~o~

When he woke up the next day, he was ravenously hungry and his mind was much clearer. A delicate chiming could be heard from the other room. A charm going off? Apparently, because soon, Snape came in, yawning discreetly and buttoning his robe.

"You're up. How are you feeling?"

"Hungry. Less confused." //Sad. Hopeless. Anxious.// The false sense of quiet and balance had disappeared along with the daze. Sirius shifted on the bed and tried to focus on more important things. "I'm sorry for stealing your bed for another night. I'll be going, if you could please fetch my clothes." "You aren't going anywhere." Snape looked unhappy about something. "I reduced the dose last night, because it had a disturbingly strong sedative effect. I can see now that the despondency has returned."

"Well, you can't keep me addled forever. I don't need..." A keeper. Your help. Anybody. Sirius felt the dark despair close in on him in whirls and clamped his mouth tightly. He had to get out of there, before he made a complete spectacle of himself. Even as he thought that he realised, disgusted at his weakness and cowardice, that he didn't want to go. He wanted to stay in that safe, stone burrow, curled around himself. COWARD! sneered something in him nastily, and he tried to get off the bed. Couldn't. With a sickening sense of relief he realised the charms were back in place. He felt disgusted with himself.

"The potion isn't supposed to be 'addling' you. It's a side effect; quite unpleasant, but unavoidable in the early phase, I'm afraid. The potion works by augmenting your internal defences against gloom and anhedonia. Your first reaction was promising but you're too exhausted to sustain this dose. You look emaciated. Surely you haven't been starving?" Snape had his worst lecture face on. Sirius felt a wave of resentment.

"Well, not all of us landed a cushy job at Hogwarts after it all went to hell," he snapped angrily, without thinking. He'd been eating what he could find as a dog, mostly. It was enough to keep him alive, and he surely wasn't emaciated.

Snape seemed unperturbed. He raised his eyebrow in that immensely irritating fashion of his and stared, making Sirius feel guilty again.

Sirius cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling, avoiding that stare. "However highly you think of yourself, Severus, you can't make me a better man with one of your potions. Once you stop feeding me with it, the reality will come back. It's a waste of time."

Snape sat down and regarded him silently for a while. When he spoke, his voice was... less cold. "You don't understand what is happening, do you?"

"Oh, please, enlighten me," Sirius retorted sarcastically.

"I told you the day before yesterday that you are suffering from Soul-Rot."

"Never heard of it." All he understood was that Snape meant some embarrassingly mental condition.

"Another name for it is Black Grief or Heart's Death." Snape waited for a moment, obviously to see if these names were more familiar to Sirius, then went on. "The afflicted suffer from persistent sadness, waves of uncontrollable fear, intense sense of guilt. Worst of all is that they can't see the difference between reality and the emotions brought about by the disease. They believe themselves inadequate; think they are a burden to their friends and family. They either stop eating properly and slowly wither away, or take their own life in an effort to end the misery, because it seems like the only logical choice they have..." Snape's voice trailed off. He was staring into the fireplace, his face a stiff white mask once again. After a while, he continued. "Such drowning in one's own grief can be precipitated by natural events--for example, a great loss, or a profound shock--or, like in your case, induced magically."

Sirius chewed on this for some time. "Are you saying I'm heartsick? Like some girl?"

Snape glared at him. "I'm saying that the Dementors carved a hole in you through which they sucked all that could have helped you fight them! Self-esteem, happy memories, sense of purpose--everything. Do you remember how you were before Azkaban?"

Young, something sobbed inside him. He didn't reply.

"You were proud. Full of yourself. Happy. Bristling with energy, laughing at everything. Charming those around you whether they wanted to be or not."

He thought about it. Memories were washed out and blurry; only the painful ones stood out clearly. Perhaps he had been all these things. What did it matter? He was supposed to be an adult now. The only results of his happy personality were that one of his friends was dead, and another was now a stranger. He didn't want his 'charm' back, if this was what it caused.

"The sense of purpose," he said finally. "They couldn't take it away from me. The Dementors. First there was Pettigrew, and later, when the war started, there was always something to be done. Now... I don't know what to do now."

"That's what kept you together for the last six years, then. I wondered..."

"And for thirteen years before that. Yes. Still... Severus, don't think I'm not grateful for your help..." He wasn't. The feeling of dependency was debasing and frightening. "...But I don't see how we could arrange... I mean, there are expenses, and I mentioned I don't have a job..." He felt ugly crimson flush his face, and swallowed with difficulty against the humiliation.

"What are you blathering on about?" Snape frowned in confusion.

"I'm saying," he managed through gritted teeth, "that you can't keep me here like some pet project."

"Ah." Raised eyebrow. "I see. Well, I could make arrangements for you at St. Mungo's..."

"No."

"... Or owl Lupin..."

"No."

"Well, that doesn't leave us with many choices, does it?" Snape rose.

"Why are you doing this, Severus?" he asked quietly. "Please..." Please don't let it be just pity.

"I mentioned I'm going to patent my potion, didn't I? I can hardly do so without presenting reports from tests on a human subject."

Oh. Oh. He should have known. All Severus' pets had ended up as guinea pigs sooner or later.

*

Chapter 2

Sirius was subdued for the rest of the day. He took his potion quietly, ate quietly, and lay staring at the dungeon ceiling. Finally Snape snapped.

"Stop giving me that hurt look!" he demanded, glaring. Then, unexpectedly, he added, "I'm not testing the potion on you."

"You aren't? But..." Sirius was confused.

"It's already been tested. I just haven't submitted it to the Chamber of Alchemy yet. I wouldn't feed anybody untested potions. Not even you, Black."

"Who did you test it on, then?" Sirius asked, still bewildered.

"On myself, of course." Snape stilled, sitting in his armchair like a life-sized china figurine. Before Sirius had a chance to pry, he continued. "I developed the potion for myself, starting from the basic ingredients for mood-lifting and tranquillising potions. Over the years, I was able to perfect the formula."

Sirius lay silent for a while, digesting the revelation. It put a lot of things in a different light. How quickly Severus was able to spot his condition. How intimately he knew the symptoms. Why he decided to restrain him.

"Why were you... I mean, what caused it, for you?" It was stupid, and Severus probably wouldn't want to satisfy his curiosity; still, it made him feel less abnormal, because, after all, it was just an illness. Other people had it too. It wasn't something dirty you got in prison.

Snape twisted his lips and shrugged. "After I defected."

Sirius looked at him, uncomprehending. Snape had succumbed to despair after he had done the right thing? He voiced his surprise.

Snape rested his chin on his hands, nodding slowly. "You said you didn't come here looking for forgiveness."

Sirius gestured in assent, but Snape wasn't paying him any attention. Baring his left forearm, he thrust it toward the bed. "Do you think this could be forgiven?"

It was obvious what kind of answer he expected. "No," Sirius said in a quiet voice. He understood now.

They remained silent for a long time, Snape motionless in his chair, Sirius curled on his side, staring into space. Finally, Snape got up, retrieved a bottle of Firewhisky from an ancient wardrobe, and took a long swig.

"We must have been an exemplary generation for the 'ruin your life through bloody idiotic behaviour as a young man' concept," he commented after a long while. He drank some more, pacing around the small room like a trapped animal. Sirius watched with concern how quickly the alcohol was disappearing.

"You understand a guilt for which you'll never be able to forgive yourself," Snape said finally. "But all you were guilty of was rashness and hot-headedness. I--" He stopped.

"Did you..." Sirius had to clear his throat. "Did you kill people?" he asked in a whisper.

"Back then? not directly. Not with a wand, or a knife. They had me brew potions for them, praised me for being so inventive and far-reaching, for pushing the boundaries of science. Many were poisons. I had never stopped to think about what it meant to make them; all I did was preen at their approbation." Snape's voice was dripping with self- loathing. He was already slurring his words slightly. "Then... one day they took me somewhere. Avery and Gibson, and Malfoy. They told me that I'd get to meet the Dark Lord himself, that he was very pleased with me. And that there would be a presentation."

He drank from the bottle again in long gulps before continuing. "They had some Muggles and a wizard. Gave them some of my potions. I watched them die. Puked all over myself. They laughed and patted my back, talked about baptism by fire. It was as if I had opened my eyes for the first time in my life. I was terrified and revolted by them, but I couldn't leave. I didn't have anywhere to go." He dropped into his chair, tense and agitated. Sirius didn't think he had ever seen him like that before.

"So you asked Dumbledore to shelter you at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Oh, no." Snape laughed bitterly. "Riddle wanted me to get a teaching position at Hogwarts so that I could poison Dumbledore."

Riddle. Sirius tasted the word on his tongue for a moment. It was good, he thought, to finally be able to call him simply by his last name. A mere man, not a mysterious menace of the Dark. And a petty little victory, to use the name of the Muggle father 'lord Voldemort' detested so much.

Snape was still talking. "Riddle really resented Albus and it infuriated him that he wasn't able to harm him in any way. Of course, I couldn't do what he asked of me--I didn't have the stomach for it, and Dumbledore's charisma was difficult to resist. Nor could I tell Riddle that I wouldn't poison the Headmaster."

"You were a coward," Sirius said quietly, after pondering Snape's words for a while. Snape didn't seem offended.

"I had always been a coward. It was part of my credo. But at that point that credo cornered me. Riddle and his obsessed zealots on one hand, fanatical aurors and Azkaban on the other. So I did the only logical thing I could think of."

"You went to Dumbledore?" Sirius tried again.

"I tried to kill myself." Snape's face twisted. "With one of my potions, no less--though I had chosen one that would give me a painless death," he admitted, compelled to honesty for some reason. "Dumbledore got to me first. That old fart knew everything, of course. Had been waiting for me to make the right decision. Apparently finishing myself off wasn't it."

Another bit of Snape's usual reserve was washed away by a swig from the bottle.

"Dumbledore has a century and a half of experience in manipulating even the most unlikely people into doing something brainlessly heroic--did you know his grandmother was a Veela? So I suddenly found myself working for him. I'd tell Riddle or whoever he sent that Dumbledore was resistant to the latest poison I used, and I'd try to get them talking. Then I'd report back to Dumbledore. It was to be my atonement, I suppose. Like you, I had a sense of purpose that held me up. After what seemed like forever, I was finally supposed to make a move on Riddle: incapacitate him so that he could be apprehended. And you know what? Before I could execute my carefully prepared plan, Lord Voldemort had been defeated--by a one-year-old infant!" Snape's laughter sounded more like hacking.

"Is that why you resent the boy so much?" Sirius felt vaguely sick.

"I used to resent Harry Potter only because he inherited James' infuriating ability to always get the better of me, regardless of the circumstances," came a surprisingly sober reply. Snape calmed visibly. "But then... I lost my chance to atone, or so I thought. I was interrogated several times. Imprisoned for a while. When I came back to my dungeon, I realised there was nothing more to be done."

He blinked at the almost empty bottle and put it on the floor. "I no longer wanted to kill myself. But I was wasting slowly anyway. You want to hide in your animal shape. I wanted to hide in my dungeon. You think you are having a rough time? I didn't leave the dungeons for a year and a half. Dumbledore agreed to move the Potions class downstairs, so I was still able to teach. I already knew I had Soul-Rot at that point. I was trying to get along with the standard cheering charms and chocolate, all the time reading whatever I could find and experimenting. Fortunately, I was on the right track pretty much from the beginning, but it still took a long time to regain some balance."

"A year and a half!" Sirius felt cold. "Do you think it's going to take that long for me?" Whatever reasons there were for Snape's hospitality, he wouldn't keep him here for that long. Yet the thought of being on his own brought with it a wave of panic, and he had to bite his lip to keep it down.

"I don't know," Snape said, resting his head on the armchair's back and staring up. "It's different with you. You are naturally cheerful, chatty, and confident. Your condition has been caused artificially. And the potion has been greatly improved. I would expect first results after a week or two, when I manage to establish the right dosage for you. The side-effects should vanish by then, and you should be able to start noticing a stable improvement in your mood. It'll be three or four months before there is a permanent change for the better, though, and you'll have to take the potion for much longer than that to avoid setbacks."

Three months. "Could I have some of that whisky?"

"No. You are not supposed to drink while taking the potion."

"You do realise," Sirius said, "that you have to find a name for it sooner or later. You can't call it The Potion forever."

"I could call it Canis Miserabilis," Snape said indistinctly. He was massaging his temples. Hangover, already? "Very funny, but not a selling name," Sirius remarked absent- mindedly. There was a question he had always wanted answered, and he was wondering whether he should take advantage of Snape's intoxication. He decided to go with the punch; tomorrow, Severus would be irritated at his effusiveness and would clamp down again. "Tell me, why did you join the Death Eaters in the first place?"

Snape smiled humourlessly. "Oh, I was such an easy target. I wanted to belong. I was an outcast all my life, and they offered me a chance to be in. They told me how valuable I was, how great. What a difference I could make. They praised me generously for my efforts." He looked like he might be sick. "Told me about the wonderful future we would bring about, with witches and wizards walking the earth proudly, not hiding from Muggles. Riddle would send around pamphlets about how Muggles bred too quickly and suffocated us. I hadn't known even a single Muggle then, d'you know? They were some vague kind of impediment I didn't pay much attention to. The exalted Malfoy would stoop down to me--that was what counted." Snape looked flushed, either from the drinking or from spewing out the bitterness that must have been festering in him for so many years.

"Lucius was a real piece of work," he continued after a while. "He waxed sentimental about how the poor Muggles would be better off if they were kept in an enclosure and taken care of by specialised wizards--'If a Muggle child breaks its leg, it takes six weeks to grow it back together. Six weeks! Can you imagine the misery and pain?'--and I believed him at first, until I realised he was just after their land and titles. The Malfoys had had great estates in India, and when the British Muggles pulled out of there, they were forced to come back as well. Lucius' father was extremely bitter at being reduced to a mere 'lord'. As I understand it, Lucius badly wanted to be a Peer, with Riddle as the Queen, undoubtedly."

Sirius snickered aloud at the unexpected twist of humour.

"I didn't see the absurdity of it then," Snape said, but he smiled faintly too. "Then, it was all very logical, even the fact that we were fighting other wizards instead of rounding up the Muggles. Well, I woke up to the ugly truth pretty quickly, but it was already too late. Once you fell into their honey trap there was no way out."

"I can see how they got to Wormtail," Sirius said. "If I had only noticed it then..."

"Don't play that game," Snape interrupted him harshly. "You can't know what would have been. Voldemort tried to kill the Potters and was eliminated for more than fifteen years--what if it hadn't happened? What if he had won, or if the war had torn the country apart?"

Sirius pondered the question for a moment. He had trouble remembering there had been two wars, one before his imprisonment and one after. It all seemed like one long, dark night. But perhaps Severus was right, and Jamie's death hadn't been pointless after all--not if people had had the chance to recover and grow stronger. He sighed deeply. The sound seemed to waken Snape, who had been dozing off in his chair, and before Sirius had a chance to ask more question, the man stood up abruptly and disappeared into the adjoining room.

~o~

The next morning Snape was, as could have been expected, in a very sour mood. He kept their conversation short and refused to be drawn into their customary game of insults. Last night's revelations still hung in the air like some acrid, foul cloud. Sirius realised with surprise that he missed their easier, lighter chatter from before.

After breakfast, Snape, having evidently grown tired of walking Sirius to the bathroom, procured a bedpan with a simple banishment charm on it. He got it from the infirmary, and had apparently had a hard time explaining what he needed it for. Sirius imagined Poppy Pomfrey clutching the bedpan defensively to her breast and almost snickered.

"Why didn't you just transfigure something into one?" he asked.

Severus looked embarrassed and muttered something under his prominent nose. Right, he had always sucked at Transfiguration. This time the snicker tore free. Snape glared at him furiously and opened his mouth as if to hiss something insulting, but his face screwed up in a pained grimace as he suddenly clutched his neck.

Sirius was sitting upright on the bed in an instant, cursing the lack of his wand. "What? What is it, Severus? Talk to me! A hex? Someone bit you?" Fucking charms wouldn't let him off the bed!

Snape looked at him as if he had gone bonkers. "While I appreciate the concern, I'd rather you stopped bouncing and calmed down," he drawled. "If you break the bed, we will both be sleeping in chairs."

Ow.

"Sorry. Listen, um... maybe we could take turns in the bed?" Sirius settled down, feeling stupid for offering the man his own bed.

Snape shook his head and shrugged, then grimaced again. "That won't be a problem. Last night I was too... distracted to arrange proper bedding and fell asleep in an awkward position. I assure you I can take care of my sleeping arrangements."

Yeah. Right. "Give me my wand for a moment. I'll transfigure one of the chairs into a sofa for you."

Snape scowled at him resentfully for a while, but his neck must have really hurt, because he turned off the charms and helped Sirius get to the study.

Getting up made Sirius light-headed and he sat heavily in the chair he was supposed to transfigure. It creaked protestingly under his weight.

"Where do you get your furniture, junk shops?" he groused. "Is there one chair in here that's less than a hundred years old?"

"Well, the cushy job doesn't pay as well as you might have expected," Snape shot back. "Besides, I have better things to spend money on than furniture."

"Potion ingredients," Sirius said knowingly. "Because one ounce of Black Primrose is worth a thousand chairs."

Snape shot him a disgusted glare and retrieved Sirius' wand. He directed his scowl at a small, worn-out footstool this time.

"I've been transfiguring it into a couch, but the wretched thing won't stay that way," he confessed finally. "After I woke on the floor twice, I decided to try the chair. Unwisely, as it turned out."

"Your problem, " Sirius said, "is that you've learned to transfigure things for exactly 90 minutes. That is, for as long as McGonagall was looking."

Snape smirked. "You, on the other hand, haven't learned to make your potions effective for more than five minutes, have you?"

"That's because I always finished making them five minutes before the end of a class. They didn't need to be effective later," he retorted, happy at the change in Severus' mood. "Here. Observe and learn."

Ignoring Snape's sarcastic snort, he pointed his wand at the harassed footstool. "Let's start with simple things, like size. Elongare." The footstool obediently stretched in length, stopping where Sirius wanted it to be. He repeated the transfiguration with another dimension, until the makeshift bed was wide enough for Snape to sleep on comfortably. "Do you see how I'm binding it into the desired shape at each step?" Snape nodded. Sirius continued his work, making the legs more sturdy with a Robustus and softening the bedding with an Extrudus. Then he tapped the simple couch delicately with his wand to solidify the transformations.

Snape was stroking his chin with his thumb. He looked vaguely impressed. "I must admit it looks simple enough if you look at it that way. How can you be sure it will stay like that?"

"Why do potions remain effective for a long time?"

"Because the formal process of preparing and mixing the ingredients binds the maker's magic into the formula of the potion," Snape answered immediately.

"Exactly. Try applying the same principles to transfiguration. Organise the item's qualities into groups of attributes, starting with the simplest: colour, size, surface. Bind new qualities into the item and move on to the texture and material, and so on. With such qualities as 'animate', you can go two ways: if you are transfiguring a living creature into an inanimate object, start the whole process with making it inanimate; it'll be easier to work on it later. Just don't kill it--try to bind it into a statue, for example."

Snape frowned, perhaps mourning the multitude of beetles that had expired while being transformed into buttons. Sirius continued, undeterred. "If you are transforming an inanimate object into an animate one, go the other way round. It's always easier to work on something that doesn't try to run away."

"They never told us that at school. You were supposed to make it happen all at once," Snape said dubiously, poking the couch with his wand.

"Actually, after you gain experience with a particular type of transformation, you can make it happen seemingly all at once. But if you are thinking about the object too generally, or if you hurry too much and skip too many stages, the changes won't bind and you'll end up with something only half-transfigured or going back to the original form after a short time."

Sirius continued his demonstration excitedly, delighted at the chance to do something different than staring at a mouldy ceiling. He transfigured two handkerchiefs into silk sheets, discussing the problems of stretching a small object into something much bigger for a long time.

"No, I didn't make them silk," he answered after Snape's inquiry. "That would be transmutation. I made them look and feel like silk, but they're still cotton."

"It's a pity McGonagall won't go to the trouble of explaining the process to her students instead of yelling herself hoarse at them," Snape observed finally.

"It's not that simple. There are about as many approaches to transfiguration as there are wizards and witches. I chose the analytical approach only because I thought it would be closest to what you do with potions, chopping a thing down into pieces and then combining it into something else step by step." Snape nodded in agreement. "But other people conceptualise it in their own ways. For most children, it works better if they're not taught someone else's methods but left to develop their own. They intuitively grasp the principles that would be too inhibiting if they were forced into them beforehand. Kids have enough work as it is, memorising evocations and charms, and learning the history of each transfiguration."

"Oh, I see it now." Snape's voice dripped with sarcasm. "It would be too hard on the poor children to explain to them exactly how to do something. Let's just tell them to do it and embarrass them publicly if they can't!"

Sirius grinned. "I think you and McGonagall have very different approaches to teaching. I'm sure you force your students into very strict procedures and berate them for the smallest departure from the rules. She believes overthinking magic at such a basic level leads to insecurities and inhibitions. Perhaps if you gave your students some leeway and let them use their intuition..."

"I'd end up bald and scorched! Thank you very much, but intuition and leeway have no place in a Potions classroom."

The talk of school made Sirius realise something suddenly. "Severus--your classes! Aren't I interfering with your schedule? You must have much to do apart from nursing me."

"How considerate of you to notice. Black, it's winter holidays. Haven't you realised? I have a week before classes start."

"Oh. That's all right, then, I guess." He hadn't paid much attention to the calendar lately. It still left the question of why Snape was nursing him, but he decided to let it go for now. He didn't want to force Severus into any more confessions so soon after yesterday.

"Indeed. And, Black? 'Someone bit you?' Really." Snape was snickering all the way back to the bedroom.

~o~

Snape must have decided that talking helped Sirius improve, or he was genuinely interested in the subject, because he asked about it again the next day.

"If transfiguration doesn't change the basic... essence? of a thing, like transmutation does, then how could you live as a dog for long periods of time? Were you able to digest dog food and get nourishment from it?"

"Dogs don't eat that much different from men, and besides, I mostly ate what you'd call human food anyway--scraps, whatever I could beg off nice old ladies. It was enough for a dog, but apparently a bit too little for a man. I'm somewhat smaller when I'm transformed. That's why I lost weight in my human form, I think."

"Can the Animagi... ah... breed while in the animal form?" Snape looked as haughty and collected as ever and the stutter was almost too minuscule to notice, but there was a ghost of a smile dancing around the corners of his lips.

"In other words, you're asking whether McGonagall could have kittens in the literal meaning of the phrase?" Sirius laughed. "No. When she transforms, she's a cat-shaped woman, not a cat. The blood is different, it won't mix."

"Then how could you make the final transmutation you talked about?"

"Well..." Sirius thought about the right words to explain it. "Two basic differences between transfiguration and transmutation are the level at which the changes occur and the reversibility of the change, right?"

If you say so, Snape's expression said. Sirius went on anyway.

"What I'm saying is that it's easy to go too far when you transform, and change everything--blood, brain, heart--so that suddenly there is no place for the human mind in the new body and you lose it. At least, that's the theory explaining the accidents related to Animagi irreversibly changing into animals. Nobody could ask them what happened, after all." Sirius shuddered slightly. It didn't seem like such an attractive choice, now that he was able to think about it clearly. "There are many opinions on whether it's a real transmutation or not, but since it fulfils the criteria of finality and doesn't spontaneously revert, the name stuck."

"I still fail to see the difference between transfiguration and transmutation," Severus remarked. "No matter how well you change something into something else, you can always change it back."

"Not at all!" Sirius sat up in the bed, gesturing animatedly. "With transfiguration, the object remains what it always was, only stretched, or coloured, or animated. No matter how well you bind it, the magic will eventually dissipate and the object will return to the original shape. Now, with transmutation, what you get is a completely new object. You do a lot of transmuting in your potions work, actually. To change the transmuted object into the original, you'd have to transmute it again, expending magic rather than letting it die out. And you can never get the original back with transmutation--you get a new object of the same category."

"I can change lamb chops into a sheep, but it won't be the same sheep that the meat came from?" Snape hazarded.

"Yes! Exactly!" Sirius was delighted. "Although," he frowned, "I don't think anybody has ever managed to transmute meat into a living thing. Transfigure, yes. I think you'll get zombie sheep that way."

Severus rolled his eyes at the idea of zombie sheep and fed Sirius his potion. Sirius asked for a bath and Severus walked him to the bathroom, helped him get in the tub and started washing his back and hair without being asked. Sirius managed to wash his feet and privates himself this time and felt childishly proud. He was getting better.

*

Chapter 3

The next few days passed uneventfully, with Sirius slowly getting used to the lazy, quiet routine of enforced bed-rest. Then, one morning, he woke up to the sound of raised voices.

"... to have my wicked way with your godfather!" A familiar, coldly derisive sneer.

"Yeah? So why is he tied to the bed then? Let him go, you bastard!" Could that be Harry?

Sirius opened his eyes to see Remus and Harry standing next to his bed. Remus was, as always, tranquil; Harry looked furious.

"Sirius! Are you all right? What did he do to you?" Harry sat down on the bed and looked into Sirius' face intently.

"Uh," Sirius said intelligently. "What's going on?" He looked to Remus. "How did you know I was here?"

"Severus owled informing us you'll be staying with him for a time."

//Bastard.// Sirius glared at Snape, who shrugged and left the room.

"We were concerned--we had been trying to find you for some time already--and we decided to come and see how you were," Remus added.

"You were spotted going into the dungeons, but never coming back!" Harry blurted out.

"Harry, it's all right. I'm... I need a potion Severus is making for me and he let me stay here for the holidays. It's nothing serious. Don't worry about it."

The look on Harry's face said that he didn't believe it wasn't serious.

"Why don't you come to stay with us?" he asked gently. Then, unexpectedly, blushed. "Um. You did know we were living together, didn't you?"

"Yes, I knew." Sirius smiled.

"Great! I mean... I was afraid you might not approve." Harry was beaming now.

Sirius felt his smile fade as he grasped the full meaning of Harry's words. Approve? Living together? Surely Harry couldn't mean...

"What the hell... Damn you, Lupin, what HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!" Blood was pounding deafeningly in his ears and throat. "Tell me you didn't...!"

"He didn't DO anything TO me!" Harry yelled back, shielding Lupin defensively. "How could you say something like that!"

Lupin was completely white, clasping his hands tightly and looking straight at them, slightly hunched in the chair by Sirius' bed. He raised his face and looked at Harry.

"Harry, leave us, please," he said very quietly.

"But--!"

"Please."

Harry glared at Sirius, but left the room, squeezing Lupin's shoulder as he went. Sirius covered his face with his hands and tried to calm the blinding fury that coursed through him. Lupin returned to watching his own hands. He always did that when Sirius was angry--withdrew completely and refused to participate. It made Sirius queasy to notice the familiarity of the reaction.

He should never have left Harry with Remus. He should have been there for the boy, instead of wallowing in self-pity. What was he supposed to do now? What was the adult thing to do? Nothing in his life had prepared him for this. He would kill to protect the boy; he would punch whoever threatened him in the face until it turned bloody; he would yell at them. But he had no idea how he could protect Harry from that. From Remus. James couldn't have chosen a worst godfather for his son.

He lay there, heaving and choking on his own anger and the sense of betrayal, until Remus spoke quietly, "Tell me why you think it's wrong."

"Why do I think it's WRONG? Remus, you were his teacher! His mentor! You could have been his father, for goodness sake! And you tell me you don't know why it's wrong?" He felt bile rise in his throat.

"You believe I abused my position, Sirius? That's what is making you angry?"

"I left a child in your care!" Sirius exploded again. "And what have you done? You seduced him!"

"Harry is not a child anymore," Lupin said firmly. Then he added, quietly again, "And I didn't seduce him."

"Not a child--! He's been looking up to you for years! You are a figure of authority to him--a father!"

"No, I'm not," Remus disagreed with surprising vehemence. "You are! Harry's been treating me as his friend for years, not as a replacement for his father. He had that--in you."

"I wasn't there," Sirius said bitterly.

"It didn't matter! He understood you were hiding from Aurors. And he was used to not being able to be with the people he loved. And, Sirius, he's twenty. He hasn't been a child for a very long time. Perhaps not since the day Voldemort murdered that boy in front of him. And he saw much worse after he graduated. He's... we're... we are happy with each other."

Sirius listened, desperately wanting Lupin to explain everything and make it right in some miraculous way, but it was only getting worse.

"I can't... I just can't believe you are one of those..." //Perverts.// All anger fled, leaving behind exhaustion and overwhelming despair. "How long has it been going on?"

Remus glanced at him quickly and looked down again. "We've been close friends since Harry's seventh year. We started having a relationship six months ago."

Sirius uncovered his face and stared at Remus in confusion. "Six months? But... you said... you mean you weren't? When he was at school, when that boy died?"

"Merlin, no! Of course not. How could you even think that!" Remus looked hurt. "I'm not interested in children, Sirius."

Thank goodness for that, at least. Sirius wiped his face with a corner of the sheet and sat up, hugging his knees. He was at a loss. How could this be happening?

"Why are you interested in him?" he asked finally. "Why him? Because he's young? Because he's been close at hand? Because he's James' son? Because he's famous?"

"Is this what upsets you? That I may want him for all the wrong reasons?" Remus asked gently.

"Just tell me. Help me make some sense of this, damn it. You are still my friend," he added suddenly, thinking that Remus might not understand that. How it made things so much more difficult.

Remus looked up at him, with those familiar, bottomless, shining amber eyes.

"I am," he said. "I think I understand why it's so difficult for you. You never had the chance to see him grow up, to become a man. But he is a man now, and I haven't seen him as a child for a long time, anyway. I told you I didn't seduce him. Don't think I tried to leverage his innocence. He had other lovers before me. Sirius, all the things you've said--I was as irrationally upset as you are. When he told me he had a lover, before he graduated, I was angry too, so angry I wanted to strangle someone. And, absurdly, I felt that I had failed him, that I allowed someone to corrupt a child. He had other lovers later and I learned to accept that. When we... admitted we were attracted to each other, we were coming together as equals. Yes, I was older. But it also meant I could offer him things a younger lover couldn't; patience, experience, help when he was fighting memories."

"And what was in it for you? I'm not asking you why you love him--but why like that?"

Remus sighed. "You may not like the answer," he warned.

"Talk."

"He's an alpha," Remus said simply.

The air left Sirius' lungs with a whoosh. Pieces of his world were falling back into place, and he understood suddenly what was so overwhelmingly wrong with the image of Remus as an aggressor; Remus as an active pursuer. Why it all seemed so warped and false.

"Oh," he said feebly and cleared his throat. "Does he know? That you... er, see it like that?"

Remus looked uncomfortable. "No, I didn't want to, well, to push the role on him. Besides, you are the only one I've ever talked to about this- -about seeing human beings that way."

Huh. "It's still very weird," he informed Remus. He needed to get used to it, though, he thought- -there was no point in trying to wrench them apart. Better to stay close and watch them, help Harry if necessary--and Remus too. He reached out and grabbed Remus' wrist. "Don't hurt him."

"I won't," Remus answered solemnly. His face looked younger now that the conversation was behind them. "I was afraid you objected to us because we're both men," he said. "Harry thought... you were avoiding us."

Sirius expressed his opinion about that with a loud snort. "I'm the last person to condemn anybody for finding men attractive. You should have known better."

"I told him you were open-minded," Remus smiled, embarrassed. "I guess I didn't take everything into consideration..."

"Yes, I've shown commendable open-mindedness, haven't I?" Sirius observed unhappily. "I'm sorry, Moony. I had no right." He didn't, anymore. He should have been there... for both of them.

"You were protecting your cub," Remus smiled. "You had every right. Will you talk to Harry?"

Sirius swallowed. "Not right now. I'm not strong enough." He felt worn to the last shred. "I'll tell him I'm sorry for the yelling but... I don't think I'm up to a long conversation. Do you think it'll be all right if I asked him to come again tomorrow?" Right now, he wanted to take his potion and go to sleep. Would Remus think he was a coward?

Lupin was staring at him with bright, keen eyes. "Sirius. Would you tell me what's wrong with you? You are obviously unwell, and you haven't been in touch for so long... What happened? Did... someone hurt you?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I just... I've been trying to find a job, but it wasn't going well. I was out of it--couldn't fit in anymore, you know? I felt bad about so many things. When the war ended, I didn't have even that to spur me on. I spent a lot of time as a dog--just wandering around. It felt good that way." Remus smiled, but his eyes were concerned. "Didn't Snape tell you? He says it's some kind of disease he can cure." //Mental illness.// He looked for signs of revulsion in Moony's eyes.

"Black Sorrow..." Remus whispered, and squeezed Sirius' hand almost painfully. "No, Severus didn't tell me. All he said was that you were here."

"Do you think I'm a coward?" he choked, gripping Remus' hand back. "Moony?"

"No! I don't think you are a coward. Is this what's hurting you most?" Sirius nodded, unable to speak. "It has nothing to do with cowardice. When we were children... it was such an anathema to us, wasn't it?" Sirius could only nod again. "Courage is something different when you are an adult... it's not the same as bravery and laughing at danger."

"I just... can't stop wanting to hide." Sirius' voice was hoarse and strained. He hoped he wouldn't cry; that'd be too much to bear. "I'm running away from more and more things. Avoiding confrontations. Even with you."

"What would you need to confront me about?" Remus looked puzzled.

"Not really confront, but... I came here to apologise to Snape for almost getting him killed back then, you know?" Remus went still. "I knew I had to come and talk to you about it now that we are both adults, but I couldn't. I destroyed our friendship, and I knew you'd never trust me again." Oh, fucking great. He was crying now. q//Can you humiliate yourself any further, Black?// He swiped his face angrily with his sleeve and turned to face the wall. "Sorry," he managed through his clenched throat.

"I let them lock you away in Azkaban," Remus whispered. "I think we're more than even."

They stayed like that for a while; Sirius breathing carefully and forcing himself not to cry, Remus sitting by the bed and stroking his shoulders. Finally Sirius calmed down enough to notice the yells and hissing coming from the study. It seemed that Harry and Severus were engaged in their own version of catharsis. Sirius sighed and sat up.

"We'll talk about it," he promised Lupin. "Could you get Snape? I think I need the potion."

"I'll tell him." Remus got up. "Listen--I'll take Harry home now and talk to him. He'll come to see you soon, all right? You should rest." He hugged Sirius briefly and left.

Sirius curled into a tight ball again, trying to preserve some of the warmth of Remus' touch. Snape appeared several minutes later, so he uncurled and tried to look normal.

"I need the potion," he said in a very steady voice.

"It's too early for another dose. I'll give you something else." Snape handed him a tiny glass.

"What's in it?" he asked, not really caring.

"Ingredients," Snape snapped nastily. "And chocolate," he added, as an afterthought. "Since you said you don't have canine blood after all."

It tasted good, Sirius decided, feeling the chocolate warm up his stomach. Soon, he relaxed enough to doze off, waking only when Snape insisted on forcing some broth down his throat.

*

Chapter 4

He woke up later that evening feeling somewhat better. The sensation of being shell-shocked was receding slowly. He spent some time lying quietly and watching the ceiling, until he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"What are you reading?" he asked Snape, who glanced at him sharply over a tome bound in bright red leather.

"First grade Potions textbook. I'm trying to rework my syllabus," Snape said, grimacing. "Some ingredients were banned by the Ministry after the war. They can't be sold to students or used in teaching."

"Hmph." Sirius didn't know what to say. "Were they dangerous?"

"Dangerous!" Snape snorted furiously. "If only! The Ministry is making an ostentatious fuss about 'removing Dark influence' from anywhere they can 'find' it. They had some pompous ass go over the list of common ingredients and strike out everything that sounded nefarious. Stinkweed and Deadly Nightshade--gone, but Foxglove apparently sounds nice enough, so let's leave it!" His voice dripped with venom that would put the Foxglove to shame. "Bloodbeetle. Black Snakeroot. Creepwort. Dragon's Blood. Evilmane. Turpentulas. Dragonflies. Dragonflies! " He closed the book with a thud. "Did you know there were demands to cut down the Forbidden Forest? That forest has been here since long before Hogwarts was founded!"

"Cut it down." Sirius had trouble believing what he heard. "Cut down the largest reserve of wild magic in Britain?" Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with him not fitting in the world, after all--maybe it was the other way round.

"Soon it may be the only reserve of wild magic in Britain," Snape said with disgust. "It's teeming with refugees already."

"What do you mean, refugees?"

"What I mean is that people have gone mad. Now that the real danger is gone, suddenly every shabby wizard is the Great Hunter of Dark Creatures. Everybody is fanatically cleaning their attics, banishing ghouls and boggarts, killing garden gnomes... I had to take in a Shadowdweller--someone chased it into sunlight!"

"Shadowdweller?" Sirius rose on his elbow, intrigued. "What are they? I've never heard of anything like that."

"They are nearly extinct." Snape shrugged. "We had one when I was a child. They're useful--they eat dust. But they also have a dark name and they live in the shadows--I don't give them much chance of survival."

Sirius looked around curiously, trying to spot the dust-eating creature.

"It won't come out," Snape said. "It's terrified of strangers. You may catch a glimpse in the night, if it thinks you're asleep."

"Hagrid must have heaps of work. Maybe I could help him." He'd have a job, at least nominally.

"Mmm. He's staying in the Forest most of the time, organising things. He even gave up teaching--decided he can't do both things at once. He's been replaced by Ednyfed Evans, that Hufflepuff four years behind us. Do you remember him? I've heard he was almost expelled when he refused to 'mutilate' spiders for his N.E.W.T.S. exam." Snape shook his head, apparently marvelling at some people's madness.

"What about Defense? Did you have any luck finding someone sensible, after all?" Harry had written to him all about Quirrel and Gilderoy Lockhart, and then there was the false Mad-Eye Moody. It still sent cold shivers down Sirius' back to think that a Death Eater had been allowed among children. From what he had remembered, the subsequent teachers didn't last long in the position either, due to incompetence or unfortunate incidents. In Harry's seventh year, Madam Pince had to take over the classes, reading the theory out of a book and making multiple- choice comprehension tests.

"We had a couple of years of vacancies. After Crouch, they started screening the candidates so carefully there were none left. We have a Squib Demonologist temping this semester--some Rupert Giles. He came here during the summer to use the library, and Dumbledore talked him into staying. He's... good. Very practical. He even brought a vampire for a presentation to the Seventh-Years."

"He brought a VAMPIRE to a school? That's-- that's..."

"Even more outrageous than having a werewolf teach the children, isn't it?" Snape said, and Sirius glared at him. "It was extremely interesting, though. The vampire has been... partially restored, I understand. Giles discussed the curse used to achieve that. Quite ingenious."

"That couldn't have gone down well with the Ministry."

"Oh, no." Snape smiled with evil delight. "They were positively spluttering. They would have had him sacked if it weren't for the fact that he's returning to the West Indies in February anyway."

"Finally a staff member you don't hate?" Sirius teased.

"I am prone to fondness towards everybody who defies the Ministry. In fact," he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming, "I think you should apply for compensation for unjust imprisonment. Loudly."

"I don't think it's a good idea." Sirius shifted uneasily on the bed.

"Oh, I think it is!" Snape hissed. "I think a lot of wizards need to be reminded about the consequences of condemning people without proof!"

"It's been so many years... It probably falls under the prescription clause. At least that's what they suggested when I tried to get my house back," he added. "I'd need a solicitor, and paying hundreds of Galleons to fight a hopeless case doesn't make much sense." Especially if you didn't have said Galleons.

"Prescription, indeed!" Snape curled his lips in a derisive grimace. "A goblin barrister would stomp all over them in court. You should talk to young Potter. He has connections at Gringotts and at the Ministry--Weasleys and that Granger."

"Maybe I will," he sighed. He felt tired again, even after such a short conversation. He wondered whether it was the potion that was making him feel this way, or whether there was something else wrong with him.

When he asked Severus about it, the man shrugged him off with "Side-effects," and, "Unavoidable," and, "Prolonged starvation". He thought about it and decided that what he needed was exercise. Staying in bed had always made him feel cranky.

"You could remove the bed charms," he suggested. Snape looked at him with keen suspicion. "Come on, I'm not going to run off. You don't need to restrain me anymore."

Snape was still looking at him with a concerned expression. "Are you sure you won't do anything... irreversible?" he asked finally.

Oh, that. "No," he said firmly. "I've decided I'll still be needing my human mind, after all. If anything, I need to see what comes out of that thing with Harry and Remus..."

"You were shaken pretty badly," Snape said quietly.

"Weren't you? Or did you know they were lovers?"

"I knew. I thought... that was why you were so dejected. About Remus. Being with, ah, someone else."

//What?// "You thought we were lovers and he left me?"

Snape shrugged.

"No... Remus was--is--a friend. We were never like that."

"Well, you were avoiding him so adamantly... What was I to think?"

"I guess now I'll have a new reason to feel awkward around him and Harry, won't I?" Sirius said dejectedly. "My best friend is sleeping with my other best friend's son."

"I don't see why it bothers you so much. After all, they're both sentimental, open-mouthed, scatter-brained, impressionable twits."

"Are you saying," Sirius translated from severese, "that they are perfect for each other?"

What if I am? Snape's expression said, complete with the arched eyebrow and a confrontational twist to his lips.

Sirius wisely decided to leave it at that. "Let me up," he said. "I want to take a bath before I fall asleep. Would you help me wash my hair?"

"What, again?" Despite the grumbling, Snape helped him to the bathroom.

This time Sirius was awake enough to enjoy the sensation of being washed. That was one of the things he loved about being a dog--being petted, stroked or scratched comfortingly without involving the complicated, embarrassing social constructs people associated with touching each other. Snape's fingers massaging his skull and shoulders supplied that craved-for comfort, and he soaked up the warmth blissfully.

~o~

Severus had removed the charms as he promised, but Sirius was too sleepy to make any use of his newly regained freedom. In fact, he didn't wake up until 11 the next morning.

He got up gingerly and padded to the adjoining room. Severus welcomed him with a nod and pointed to a tray of food on the table. While he ate, Severus gave him a piece of parchment.

"Potter was here this morning. I told him you needed sleep, and he left the letter."

Sirius looked at the familiar handwriting uncertainly. He should have talked to Harry in person. But instead of feeling angry at Severus for taking the choice from him, he only felt grateful. He was afraid he might have started yelling again.

He thought about how writing to Harry had become more natural than talking with him face to face. He had six years worth of letters from his godson stashed carefully in a hole he had dug in the Forest.

'Dear Sirius,

Remus told me you apologised for shouting at him. I'm glad. I want you to accept us, but if you can't, don't yell at him, come to me. Your friendship is very important to him. (And to me too.) Please try to understand. We are happy, and I had to work very hard to convince him I knew what I was doing. I hope I can convince you too.

You said you were ill. Why don't you come to stay with us? We could work it out together. You'd have a room to yourself. Remus told me to add there's a backyard and a grove with plenty of rabbits.'

Bastard. He knew Sirius loved chasing rabbits.

'Remus also said Snape is taking good care of you. He wouldn't let me see you, said you were still upset from yesterday. I'm sorry I dropped it on you like that.

I'll come again in a week. If you decide to come with me, your room will be ready. If you want me to come and get you earlier, owl me. I told Hedwig to wait for your reply.'

He finished reading and sat back. The issue he was avoiding so far could not be put aside any longer. Snape owled Lupin. Lupin--predictably-- invited him to stay with them. Did it mean he wasn't welcome in the dungeon any longer? He cleared his throat loudly.

"They want me to stay with them," he said.

Snape looked up from his paper. "I see," he said indifferently.

Well. That didn't bode well. Sirius felt sadness creep upon him again. He sat there silent, thinking of a subtle way of saying he'd rather stay, and at the same time trying to make sense of this particular inclination of his. Was it because of what he had learned about Remus and Harry? Or because of something else?

"I'm rather comfortable here," he rushed out, throwing subtlety out of the window. "That is," he hastened to add, "for as long as I'm invited." Now that was simply BRILLIANT. He was kicking himself mentally.

Snape froze with a cup of tea raised to his lips and an expression of astonishment on his face. Then he blinked, shook himself, and drank the tea.

"You're comfortable here," he said.

"Listen," Sirius said, desperately trying to make up for his blunder. "I'm not asking you to keep me. I'll go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, try to get whatever job I can find..."

Snape interrupted him with an impatient gesture. "Stop being a twit. You aren't going anywhere for at least two weeks. If you feel the irrepressible urge to be gryffindorishly noble, you can arrange to settle the bills with Hogwarts after you get better."

"I'm on Hogwarts' keep? The food I eat isn't deducted from your pay?" It was confusing, but less shaming than imposing himself on Snape, especially after the man admitted he had limited resources.

"No. Every member of the staff has the right to request accommodation for a family member or a partner." Snape shrugged.

"A par-- you registered me as your partner?" Sirius was slowly becoming convinced that he hadn't woken up yet and that he was having a vividly surreal dream.

"Well, I couldn't sign you up as a family member!" Snape said sourly. "Nobody would believe I'm related to a mongrel." He was obviously trying not to look embarrassed--it must have been eating at him to be caught showing kindness to someone.

Sirius felt himself smile against his will. "Thank you, Severus," he said sincerely.

"You do understand I did it only to bypass bureaucratic difficulties," Snape replied quickly.

"Yes, of course." He wanted to laugh. He could stay. At Hogwarts. Safe. He'd try to repay the school back somehow. Maybe Hagrid could use a dog in the Forest... "When you owled Remus... I thought you were trying to kick me out."

"Don't judge me by your standards, Black," Snape huffed. "If I wanted to kick you out, I would have, without being that subtle. I owled him because somebody was bound to notice that you came in here, and I didn't want to be accused of kidnapping a war hero. Besides," he added, the embarrassment evident again, "they were concerned about you."

Oh. Severus, always the tough bastard. Sirius felt like transforming, and licking Snape all over the face. He wondered if Snape would answer him if he asked why--why did he go to all the trouble of helping an old school enemy. But he'd most likely just say something nasty and avoid Sirius for the rest of the day. //Maybe he's lonely, too.//

"Is their relationship so difficult to swallow to you that you don't want to live with them?" Snape asked unexpectedly.

"No. Yes. Hell, I don't know. It's partly that. I would feel uneasy around them, yes. And... I'm afraid I'd snap and say something stupid or nasty, and they'd be hurt. Besides, I don't like to be a-- a third wheel, you know?"

"Oh, yes. It's perfectly obvious to me that you absolutely need to be the centre of attention," Snape remarked caustically and returned to reading.

//Bastard!// He deserved to be punished in the most cruel and inhumane way an Animagus had at his disposal. Sirius transformed quietly, surreptitiously crawled under the table, lifted the edge of Snape's robe, and deliberately pressed his cold nose to Snape's calf.

An aborted scream tore the air. Snape jumped out of the chair, whirling around and glaring daggers. He was spluttering loudly, trying to simultaneously utter all the expletives he had in mind. Sirius howled with ecstatic joy, then wisely ran away and hid in the bedroom.

He returned some time later, having composed a letter to Harry and taken a short nap. He regarded Snape cautiously, but the surly Potions master didn't throw anything heavy at him. Instead, Snape raised a rolled newspaper and quirked his eyebrow meaningfully. Sirius laughed.

"Sorry. But you were being a wanker. That should teach you to wear something under your home robes in the middle of the winter, too."

Snape only shook his head in exasperation and asked, "Have you written to Potter? I'd like to get rid of that horrid bird as soon as possible. She's been coming from the owlery every hour to check whether there was a reply."

"You don't have an owl, do you? They can be like that. Have you ever had a-- wait, you had a bird, a raven, right? What was his name?"

"Mallory."

"Yeah. You had him during our first year. What happened to him?"

"My father snapped his neck. Thought the pet diverted my attention from schoolwork."

//Sweet Merlin.// Sirius felt nauseated. He sank heavily into a chair. "I'm... I'm sorry," he stammered.

"Forget it." Snape was stubbornly trying to read, and his hands didn't shake. But Sirius had already learned to read that frozen expression. The more moved Snape was by something, the more still and stiff he became. The more you wanted to learn, the less he talked. Sirius couldn't think of anything comforting to say. But he had already demonstrated there were some liberties a dog could take that would be transgressions for a man. So he transformed, trotted to Snape and put his head on Snape's knees, under the newspaper.

After a while, Snape started stroking his fur rhythmically.

~o~

That night, Sirius was awakened by loud swearing coming from the study. He shot from the bed and hurried to check on Severus.

He was greeted by the most unusual tableau: Severus was spread on the floor, a broken footstool under his arse. He was covered with one small, cotton handkerchief; an expanse of shining black silk lay twisted around his ankles.

Sirius blinked, opened his mouth and closed it again. He offered a hand to Snape, who was glaring at him, as was to be expected. Snape took the proffered hand and stood up, massaging his lower back and muttering curses.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said finally. "I was sure it wouldn't change back for a while. I should have thought..."

"You were exhausted," Snape said charitably. "And, ah. I tried to raise the legs a bit," he confessed.

Sirius was astounded. The Severus Snape he knew would never admit to anything that could make him an object of ridicule. He felt vaguely proud of him for no apparent reason.

"Never mind. Now that the charms are off, we can share the bed. It's big enough for both of us. We'll think of something tomorrow."

He pulled Snape into the bedroom and crawled into bed first. After some hesitation, Snape followed him. He lay on his half of the bed, stiff as a broomstick. Sirius turned to face the wall, curled up and fell asleep quickly, enjoying the comfort of sharing a burrow with another living being.

In the morning, he woke up first. He watched Snape for a while, curiously cataloguing the changes sleep brought about in the other man's face. Lips, relaxed from their ever-present sneer and partly opened; smooth, translucent skin, and a face so open under a curtain of raven-black hair. Suddenly he felt ashamed of looking at Severus like that, as if he were spying or going through someone's most private things. He fell back on the pillows and lay quietly, waiting.

*

Chapter 5

They fell into a routine quickly, sharing the bed, eating meals together, talking about their school days or politics, and avoiding painful subjects. Severus would bring him his potion, pet him absent-mindedly when he transformed, and read aloud the latest idiocy the Ministry had cooked up. Sirius tried to make himself useful in small ways: he scrubbed cauldrons and containers that couldn't be cleaned magically, collected dust from the carpets with his wand to feed the Shadowdweller, or cleaned the tiny windows. He started writing down his reactions to the potion for Severus to include in his patent application and proposed silly names for the beneficial draught.

Several days after the classes started, Severus came back smelling strongly of cloves and hissing with fury.

"How can they get as far as the third year if they can't read and are apparently too dumb to just copy what their friends are doing!" he grumbled when Sirius sniffed him delicately and commented the cologne suited him. "And I thought Longbottom was the worst disaster a Potions teacher could face! I am being punished by Fortune for making such assumptions."

"Longbottom? Neville Longbottom?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Yes. Round face, long arms prone to sweeping delicate flasks to the floor..."

"... very blue eyes, determined hunch to his shoulders, great Herbologist?"

"You know him?" Snape stopped stripping and peered from under his robes, a tangled mass of hair falling into his eyes. He seemed surprised.

"He used to work with us. He could grow anything, within minutes. We'd start setting up a camp, and he'd surround it with magic-dampening and masking plants before we had finished. And he'd grow some fruits for lunch while he was at it, too. Horribly shy and kind of--happy to be of use, you know? No self-confidence at all. He got a nasty curse to his legs. I don't know what happened to him. I hope they gave him some kind of pension..." Suddenly, Sirius remembered something Lupin told him about Neville... and Snape. "Hey, wasn't he the vulture boy?"

"He was the vulture boy," Snape confirmed, grimacing. "I didn't know he had anything to do with the fighting. I'll check on him." He was putting on a set of leather robes that fit snugly to his chest and arms, flowing freely from hips in four wide straps.

"Kinky," Sirius observed, stifling laughter.

"Oh, ha." Snape glared at him tiredly. "It's dragon skin. I have Fifth-Years now, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. I shudder to think what this band of dunderheads will do with today's exercise. Precautions are necessary."

~o~

That night, Snape, with the faint smell of cloves still hanging around him, was squirming and tossing irritably in the bed. Sirius couldn't sleep himself. The weather had been unpleasant all day, the maddening drone of sleet against their windows sending his thoughts into a tailspin. He wanted to do something; anything that would occupy his mind and let him sleep.

"I'm bored," he complained. "I can't sleep."

"Mphhhft!" Severus replied, then turned around abruptly to lie on his back. "Neither can I." He gave Sirius a strange look and licked his lips. He looked flushed and mussed. Sweaty.

"Want to wank off?" Sirius suggested, responding instantly to that look on some visceral level.

"What? Black, I swear you are the most infantile man I've known. We aren't fourteen-year-old boys alone in their dormitory anymo--oh..." The first brush of Sirius' hand over his prick shut him up immediately.

After a few strokes Sirius drew up the thin cotton of Severus' night shirt and squeezed the naked flesh, enjoying the velveteen hardness under his fingers. He moved without hurry, cataloguing shape, size and texture, enjoying the warmth. A short while later, he felt Severus' hand creep under his own sleeping shirt and the thin, elegant digits started caressing him slowly. He groaned at the sensation and turned on his side to allow Severus better access. His own hand on Severus' prick sped up, reacting reflexively to the rise of his passion. Soon, the exquisite play of Snape's fingers on his own flesh flooded his mind with heat and had him gasping and coming. Severus wasn't long behind him, quiet and reserved, giving only the tiniest 'ohs'.

They fell asleep quickly, and Sirius had only enough time to notice that the bed indeed cleaned itself.

~o~

Severus wasn't in the bed when he woke up the next morning. Sirius washed and dressed quickly, thinking that the world looked so much better today. Last night's sleet had turned into fluffy white snow, and a smell of eggs and bacon was wafting from the study.

He followed the smell and fell freely into the ancient chair which groaned in loud protest. Snape, sitting stiffly on the other side of the table, watched him as he ate and drank greedily. He had a singularly haughty and supercilious look about him.

"What?" Sirius asked finally, swallowing a huge bite with difficulty.

Snape steepled his fingers and leaned forward slightly, regarding him like something that had the potential to become a particularly interesting potion ingredient.

"I don't understand you, Black," he said finally.

"'s all right. I don't understand myself, most of the time," Sirius mumbled through a mouthful of bacon. "What's eating you?"

Snape thinned his lips. "Let me try the blunt straightforwardness that you are so fond of. Why did you touch me last night?"

"Er," Sirius said, surprised. It was unexpected. He'd never really had to explain why--definitely not to another man. Women needed to talk; he had learned that--painfully--when he was a boy. But the thing with men was that you did what felt good and didn't dwell on feelings. He tried to think of something to say. 'I was bored, and it was more fun than watching the ceiling' wasn't a good option. "It felt good," he said finally, wondering what more reason you needed when you were Snape.

"Felt good." Snape repeated sarcastically, studying his fingernails intently. "And it wasn't, by any chance, your imaginative way of paying the rent?"

Cold rage shot through him immediately, blinding and choking. //Fucker. Snotty, arrogant, amoral little piece of shit.// He realised he was standing, towering over Snape, wanting to catch him by his robes and shake him until his head fell off. He banged his fists on the table instead. "I am not a WHORE, Snape, DO YOU HEAR ME?" Bang. "You disgraceful little... this is about payment for you? Haven't you ever heard of having fun with someone?" Suddenly, he felt like crying.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew it wasn't... required," Snape said very quietly, without raising his head.

Sirius felt his rage deflate, and he sat down again, exhausted. "Idiot," he grumbled.

~o~

They didn't talk about it anymore that day, and the silence was awkward and grating. But Severus did get in bed with him again, so at least Sirius didn't feel like utter shit for chasing him off to sleep in a chair again.

"I'm not used to having fun with someone," Snape said suddenly, lying stiffly on his half of the mattress.

Was he hearing an apology? Sirius decided to accept it. "I was. I miss it," he said. "Normal people need it, you know," he added bitterly, unable to persevere in his noble forgiveness for more than five seconds. And it wasn't like Snape hadn't reciprocated.

"You said you weren't... with Lupin."

"Yuck, no. Remus was like a brother. You don't do these things with brothers. In case you didn't know," he added unkindly.

"So who else, at school? If you didn't sleep with best friends, who were your primary choices of bedwarmers?"

Bedwarmers! He really was an idiot. Sirius wondered where saying 'I'm not talking to you' would get them, and decided to just let it be. It was Snape, after all. He didn't have normal perceptions.

"Fergus, Robson... the guys from the Quidditch team. But mostly girls. Peer pressure, you know."

"Your capability for finding comfort in casual contact with strangers is... intriguing," Snape observed in an artificially indifferent tone.

Sirius sat up in the bed and glared down on him. "I hope you are not talking about sex. I am not fond of shagging just anybody. Snakes! Severus, we've known each other for thirty years!" And he had wanted to do that for at least twenty five, came the surprising realisation. "You are anything but a stranger."

"I see." Snape was looking at him intently. "I'm glad to hear that."

So. "Do you want to? Again?" Sirius asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"No."

Oh. Disappointment settled like a cold lump in his stomach.

"Not now. I have to get up early in the morning," Snape added suddenly. "Tomorrow night."

Did Severus' ears go slightly pink? Yes! Sirius felt himself rise again on the emotional swing. He smiled radiantly at Snape and flopped back on the bed. "Sure," he said, dispelling the light and putting his hands under his head. "Anytime."

~o~

Sirius slept in again, but this time Snape wasn't waiting for him in the study. There was one set of plates on the table, empty. As soon as he sat down in his chair, though, there was a loud pop and a house-elf appeared bearing a tray with enough food to sustain a small army. He--or was that a she?-- it smiled widely upon seeing Sirius, giving the appearance of a watermelon that had suddenly cracked.

"Mister Severus Snape says Mister Sirius Black must eat everything!" The creature beamed at him, still smiling maniacally and nodding, long ears flapping around its head. "Sparky brought the best food for you! And there is more if you is hungry still, sir! Mister Sirius Black must not go around hungry, Mister Severus Snape says!" With that, the house-elf disappeared, and Sirius closed his mouth and shook himself, bewildered. The house-elves he remembered from Hogwarts were timid, unnoticed shadows hurrying about their jobs and never speaking a word. Perhaps they weren't allowed to talk to students, Sirius thought, tucking into his porridge.

As he finished eating, he noticed a folded note propped up on Severus' desk, with 'BLACK' written neatly on the top. He sent the dishes back to the kitchen with a flick of his wand and unfolded the note, sitting back to read it.

'Black,

I believe I owe you an apology. My lack of conversational finesse may have left you with the impression I condemned your morals as lax. That was not my intention. I felt that you might have misunderstood the fact that I registered you at Hogwarts as my partner. It occurred to me only yesterday that you might have interpreted it as a suggestion of how I wanted you to proceed. That was not the case. I was not been trying to use you.'

Well, well, well. An apology. Sirius tapped his lips absently with his finger. The last sentence in the paragraph was underlined. Of course, that slinky bastard assumed he'd think the worst of him. He read on.

'Now that I understand, however, that your actions have stemmed from completely different reasons, I am concerned. Your prolonged isolation in the dungeon, with only myself as a company, must have had an adverse effect on you. The sudden affinity you feel towards the person who fed you, washed you and brought you necessary potions may well be a side-effect of this isolation. I'm afraid you might eventually fall into the same trap as I did, avoiding leaving the dungeons to go into the outside world.

I've left warm robes and a coat for you in the wardrobe. If you feel strong enough, I suggest you go to visit Hagrid. We'll meet again at dinner.'

Sirius sat pondering for a while. Then he grabbed a pen and parchment.

'Dear Severus,

I appreciate your concerns. Your nobility is breath- taking. Let me make my own suggestion: why don't you take your paranoia and stuff it up your Slytherin arse, you twisted little punk? Nobody's using anybody here. I stroke you and you stroke me, how hard is that to get? It's not payment, it's not hostage complex, it's not exploitation. It's about our mutual pleasure. If you don't want me to talk about it, say so, and I'll shut up. It'd be a pity, though.

PS. And it's not sudden.'

~o~

Sirius got dressed, warily regarding the winter robes Snape had prepared for him. They seemed sturdy, and there were no snakes embroidered upon them, so he guessed they were all right. The heavy, black cloak with a spacious hood made him feel sheltered and armoured against the world.

Adding the clothes to the mental list of his debts, he set out. Regardless of Snape's concerns, he really needed to get some exercise. His legs were itching for a good long run; he hadn't felt this much energy in years.

Cloaked and hooded, he quickly moved to the kitchen exit, trying not to attract attention--a habit he had started to see as part of his nature now.

"Sirius, dear boy!"

Albus Dumbledore was waiting for him by the kitchens, smiling and looking the same as he always did--a beacon of constancy in the crazy world around them.

"Um. Hello, Headmaster," Sirius said, feeling vaguely like a boy sneaking out of school and getting caught. He removed the hood and smiled at Dumbledore.

"I'm happy to see you up. I see Severus has been taking good care of you. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sirius said succinctly. He wondered whether Snape had told Dumbledore about his... problem or whether the old wizard simply knew everything that went on at Hogwarts, as usual.

"Severus has been very secretive about his visitor." Was Dumbledore reading his mind? "It's good to have you back, my boy. We've been concerned about your disappearance, especially given current... highly irrational attitudes in the wizarding world."

"Severus has been giving me a special potion he developed," Sirius explained.

"That potion?" Dumbledore frowned and looked at him with concern. "Yes... of course. I berate myself for not having thought of it sooner. Is the potion working?"

"Yes, very well." So he hadn't known everything, after all. Sirius relaxed. Dumbledore was only human. "I'm feeling calmer and stronger. Severus told me about his own experiences and it helped."

"That boy should put his potion on the market as soon as possible," Dumbledore said, still looking unhappy. "We need it even more now than after the last war. Quite a few of our students could use it, in fact."

That reminded Sirius of something. "Headmaster--do you know what happened to Neville Longbottom? Last time I saw him he took a curse to his legs..."

"Ah, Neville. Yes. Shown his mettle, hasn't he? I'm afraid he hasn't regained feeling in his legs... He lives in his grandmother's house, I've been told. Do you believe he could use Severus' heartening potion?"

Heartening. Somehow, Sirius doubted Snape would ever agree to call his potion that. "I don't know--I haven't been in touch with him for so long... It's just that he's the same age as Harry," he said suddenly. "Children shouldn't have fought this war, Headmaster."

"None of you boys and girls should have," Dumbledore replied sadly. He looked old and tired for the briefest moment, but then he smiled again and his eyes twinkled. "But let us not dwell on the past. You were going to see Hagrid, I believe? Be careful in the Forest--we are having great numbers of visitors lately!"

Sirius acknowledged the advice with a nod and said goodbye, promising the Headmaster to stop by for tea sometime soon. He stepped outside, into the winter morning, and inhaled deeply. The crisp wind brought with it a smell of resin and snow from the woods and a hint of smoke from the kitchen chimney.

Freedom--to run as fast and as far as he wanted, to bark and roll in the snow, to not worry about what was appropriate and expected. Sirius looked around carefully to see if anybody was looking, and sank into his Animagus shape. Smells around him intensified, attained a direction, grew richer in texture. Tracks of leather shoes to his left; ice and mud from the lake; oil and turpentine from the broom closet at the Quidditch pitch. Somebody's half-eaten sandwich, thrown away into the snow.

He trotted to the sandwich, pulled by the instinct to investigate. Marmite. He thought so. //Yeeecch.// He shook himself and set off into a run, bounding forward, faster and faster. Snow crunched under the pads of his paws as they hit the ground rhythmically. The exhilarating sensation of the run reminded him of the first time he had transformed, when his new body was mysterious and efficient, and each sense worked better and fuller, and differently from his human ones.

Nearing the forest, he slowed down, slinking through the snowy undergrowth. He spotted a rabbit and engaged in a fast and furious chase with it. It outran him easily, much to his chagrin. I'm really turning into a lap-dog, he thought disgustedly as he trotted back in the direction of Hagrid's hut. He shook the snow off his fur and squeezed through Fang's flapdoor.

Fang--greyed, ancient and arthritic--greeted him with wheezing barks and whimpers. Sirius patiently suffered having his muzzle sniffed and licked, then he transformed.

"Sirius! Yeh've nearly give me a stroke!" Hagrid jumped out of his chair and crushed him in a bear hug. "When did yeh come?!"

"About three weeks ago," Sirius answered laughing. "It's great to see you again."

"Three weeks? And yeh only come now?" Hagrid looked hurt.

"I haven't been feeling well. I'm staying with Snape in his dungeon--haven't come out at all until today."

Hagrid urged Sirius to sit down and bustled around happily, brewing tea and making sandwiches, inquiring about his health and about why he was staying with Snape. Sirius talked freely for once, knowing that he didn't have to fear what Hagrid would think of him. He found himself confessing his newly discovered interest in Snape and the problems it caused.

"Ye've gone abou' it the wrong way," Hagrid said. "The Snapes, they've always been ol'-fashioned, the whole lot o' them."

"Did you know many Snapes?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Jus' his dad and uncle. His dad was 120 when he decided he wanted a son, yeh know. Meself, I don' mind a quick bang," he grinned broadly at Sirius' shocked expression, "but Severus, he's been brought up different."

"He thinks," Sirius said, "that he'd be using me."

"Well, with yeh being sick an' all... and him growin' up with all those old-school Slytherins... all those blighters ever did was use un' another all the time. An' then..."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed miserably. "I guess being a spy for so many years gives him the right to be somewhat paranoid. Hell, he probably thinks I'm using him!"

"Nah. He knows yeh aren't, an' that's what's makin' him all jumpy." Sirius only sighed in response. People, he decided, were too complicated.

Later, they talked about the situation in the Forest and how Sirius could help. Hagrid invited him to stay for lunch, but Sirius wanted to get back home and change his unfortunate note before Snape returned.

He snuck into one of the school's greenhouses on his way back and obtained a single pink rosebud. That had to be old- fashioned enough, didn't it?

As it turned out, he was too late. His note was already gone, replaced by another letter from Snape.

'Black,

I have to admit your simplistic vision of human relationships holds a certain appeal. Rest assured that I'm not trying to deter you. I am, however, trying to make it absolutely clear that I won't accept any regrets and grudges when your sanity--or what passes for it--returns.

PS. Not sudden doesn't equal three days.'

Sirius chewed absent-mindedly on the rose's stem and thought about it. Severus Snape's Sex Disclaimer: We Don't Accept Refunds. What now?

'Severus,

I'm happy to see we are getting somewhere. I'll see you tonight. We don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I just enjoy your company.

PS. How about 25 years?'

He found an envelope and put the note and the rosebud inside. Then he set out to look for an owl to deliver his letter to Severus as soon as possible. This weird form of conversation was starting to make him twitchy.

~o~

He barely had time to finish eating his lunch--delivered by the widely grinning Sparky--when one of the school owls returned with Severus' answer.

'Black--I would really appreciate it if you ceased trying to embarrass me in public. I have little experience in explaining to the staff and students why there are rosebuds falling out of my mail at the lunch table.'

//Ow.// That didn't work very well, did it? Sirius twisted the note in his hands uncertainly. He decided that there was no point trying to convey what he wanted to say to Severus in writing--better to wait and tell him in person.

~o~

When Severus returned home in the evening, Sirius looked up at him anxiously and said,

"Listen... I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't really think when I touched you. It's just what I used to do when I was young. Just groping, you know. I didn't mean to get your knickers in a twist, and I shouldn't have pressed the issue." He had spent a couple of hours thinking it through and preparing the speech in his mind, but all the reasonable and measured words fled him now. He knew he was babbling, but couldn't help it.

"I did not get my knickers in a twist!," Snape bristled. "Does it mean you've changed your mind?" he added haughtily.

"No, I haven't changed my mind," Sirius replied warily. "I just wanted to explain that my casual behaviour wasn't a sign of disrespect."

"Hence the rosebud," Snape observed ironically.

"Er. Yes. Sorry about that, too." His lips twitched as he tried to repress a grin and then he noticed Snape was smirking as well. He gave up and laughed. "I wish I could have seen their faces!"

"Yes, they will definitely have something to talk about." Snape took off his formal clothing and changed into a pair of home robes, worn-out to softness. His thin hair, already greasy and lifeless, fell into his eyes and he swiped his hand through it reflexively. Sirius noticed he had dark circles under his eyes and a solidified twist of scorn to his mouth. "I thought McGonagall's eyes would quite literally pop out. Dumbledore, of course, was not surprised."

"I met him in the halls today," Sirius said. "He was waiting for me. Invited me for tea."

"That's horrible. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," Snape said with feeling and Sirius laughed again. He was happy their old familiarity was returning. If he had ruined it all with his blunder...

"He said you should patent your potion soon. In fact, he mentioned there are a couple of kids at Hogwarts who could use it..."

"Absolutely out of the question!" Snape interrupted him vehemently. "It hasn't been tested on children. There are hundreds of factors that could affect the outcome, from weight and stature to puberty-induced changes in innate magic levels. I won't take the risk--I'm not a mediwizard."

"Calm down, I'm not going to insist you do--I guess Dumbledore just meant that you could release the formula already, so that they can test it and give it out to anyone who needs it. After all," he added. "It doesn't seem to need much more developing. It already works--I feel much better."

"Indeed, your progress has been very promising. I'm quite pleased with the results." Snape furrowed his brow, focussing on some unvoiced thought. "Did he mention which students? From what house?"

"Dumbledore? No, he just generally said it would be useful." Sirius remembered something else. "He calls it a Heartening Potion."

"I don't think so!" Snape said sourly. "It's my potion--it will not have a Gryffindorish name!"

//So predictable.// "You are so attached to it," Sirius said. "It's as if you had never invented any other potion."

"It's the work of my life," Snape replied seriously. "My greatest achievement."

"What about the Wolfsbane potion? That's quite an achievement, if you ask me."

Snape shrugged. "It doesn't cure anything. It just relieves symptoms. Besides, how many werewolves are there who could use it? And I've only improved an existing formula. Perhaps that's why I'm so reluctant to publish the results. Once I release it, there won't be anything else to do." He leaned back, closing his eyes.

"Tired?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Don't worry, Black, I haven't forgotten our date." Snape rolled his head until his vertebrae popped.

//Date?// "We don't have to. Really. We can go slowly about it, so that you are comfortable..." Evidently, it was not the right thing to say, because Snape opened his eyes and treated Sirius to a heavy glare.

"Stop the patronising attitude. I'm not some skittish maiden! If memory serves--I made you come first," he said with a smirk.

//Oh, yeah?//

"It is not a race," Sirius responded haughtily. "And we'll see who comes first tonight," he added, unable to resist the challenge.

"Let's have dinner first." Snape, still smirking infuriatingly, summoned the dishes from the kitchens. "You aren't eating enough."

"Not enough? I'm eating more than I can remember in a long time," Sirius grinned. "In fact, the last time I had three full meals a day was probably back at school."

"Still, your appetite doesn't seem healthy. You've made progress--yes--but you are still a shadow of yourself, Black." This time, there was not a hint of mockery in Snape's voice. "You are subdued, you don't talk much, you don't socialise... It's worrying in a person who used to talk the whole day long without a pause, and run around like a mad squirrel, making friends with anything that moved."

"Is that how you remember me?" Sirius was surprised.

"I remember the first time I saw you--on the Hogwarts Express, our first year ride." Snape smiled lopsidedly. "You were running from one end of the train to the other the entire time, talking and laughing."

"Yeah. All of it was so new and exciting, so many people around, new friends... a whole new school... " He thought back to his first year. The overwhelming joy of setting out to a boarding school, all on his own; the sense of adventure; new books, so many of them, smelling of fresh paper; new sets of robes--he had rarely worn robes before, and now he had three whole sets of them, tailored to fit. And, most of all, a wand! He was dying to try it out: on himself, on his newly-met friends, on their pets... Causing quite a number of nasty accidents in the process. "I must have been an irritating brat." "I envied you the energy. And the--courage. You were a completely alien thing to me--wild, loud and unpredictable." Snape twisted his lips. "For you it was a great adventure; I considered it a trial. On that first ride, I was... wary. I had been told to expect hard work and strict discipline, and I was afraid I wouldn't prove fit. There were more people on the platform and train than I had seen in my life, and everybody was talking and laughing loudly. I felt crushed, and trodden over. And I was convinced school would be horrible." He smiled humourlessly. "A complete opposite of you."

"No wonder you resented me. Us."

"I wasn't resentful, at first, just... distrustful." Snape shrugged. "Later--well... For a child, it's easier to find someone he can blame for everything that's going wrong."

"Yeah. It goes both ways. Slytherins detest Gryffindors. Gryffindors hate Slytherins. But," he added with a grin, "we are going to make a breakthrough in that field."

"Oh, I think that particular method has already been covered... most recently, by Mr Potter and Mr Zabini..."

"What!" Sirius spluttered and coughed, sending around showers of breadcrumbs. "How do you know? Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be, having personally deducted points from both houses, for wandering at night and immoral conduct, and for consorting with the opposing house, respectively... although Zabini tried to weasel out, claiming he was attempting to distract Potter before the upcoming Quidditch match." Snape's lips were twitching suspiciously. Sirius frowned.

//Wait a minute...// "You are making this up just to goad me! I can't believe I fell for that," he shook his head, bewildered.

"No, I'm not. Ask Potter if you don't believe me!" Snape was snickering openly now. He looked better, Sirius noticed--less tired, and not so tense.

"Come on," he said, grabbing Snape's hand and pulling him up. "Let's use that pent-up energy for something entertaining."

"Watching you splutter is very entertaining, Black, believe me," Snape countered, but he got up and moved to the bathroom. He stopped at the door and added, suddenly serious, "That's another thing about you that's worrying me. You stopped paying attention to insults. You don't yell, don't grab your wand and try to hex me, and don't even fight back most of the time. I'm not sure why."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well, you know, with you, it's impossible to yell every time you insult someone. You do that whenever you open your mouth. I just... got used to it, I guess."

"Used to it. I see."

"Besides," Sirius added maliciously, "not reacting to your sneering pisses you off." He laughed at Snape's outraged expression. "Oh, all right, I'll admit I like the banter. Satisfied now? Go on. Wash your hair!"

Snape disappeared in the bathroom. "I wash my hair every night, unlike some mangy curs!" he yelled over the gurgle of water filling the tub.

"Much good does it do, if it's all greasy again in the morning!" Sirius yelled back. Snape mumbled something unintelligible and probably offensive in response, and shut up.

Sirius made the bed with his wand and stood by it, suddenly shy. Damn Severus for making it so... personal. Thought-over. Analysed. He swallowed and tried to relax. Of course Severus needed to be analytical and cautious. That was who he was. He didn't ramble around shagging random men just because it felt right. And safe. And fascinating. And arousing.

Damn.

He changed into a night shirt and waited for his turn in the bathroom.

~o~

Severus came out of the bathroom naked.

Sirius felt his breath hitch in his throat. It was... stunning. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen a naked man before-- of course he had--but with Severus, the infinitely private, reserved Severus, this simple gesture became layered with meanings. Snape looked strange, fascinating, different. All the qualities that attracted Sirius to him converged suddenly to focus into that thin, pale body, full of sharp angles and shadowed planes. An imperfect carving, cut out harshly from ivory and dark night, Sirius thought and berated himself immediately. Who was the old-fashioned romantic here?

"If you are quite done staring, go and take a bath." Snape's cold, haughty voice was belied by the guarded expression on his face, which, Sirius already knew, was there to hide behind. He moved past Sirius to sit on the bed, carding his fingers through wet hair. An intriguing smell of herbs and something unidentifiable suffused him. "And stop sniffing me."

"Nice smell," Sirius said weakly. "What is it?"

"A potion." Did Severus fidget? No. Impossible.

"You don't say. What does it do?" His mind drifted towards forbidden, ancient rituals involving magical ointments and sex in the moonlight.

"Cleans my hair."

Oh. What did he wash it with normally, then? Soap?

"Usually, I use soap," Snape confirmed the suspicion, "but since you complained so loudly about the aesthetic effect..."

"It's... very nice. Thank you." He was close to fidgeting himself, now. Damned Snape was doing this to wrench control from him, undoubtedly. "I'll go and wash." He moved to the bathroom hurriedly.

"Black!" Snape's sharp voice stopped him before he could close the door. "Don't... There's no need-- I would rather we didn't do anything involving penetration," Snape finished awkwardly, staring straight at him with burning black eyes.

Sirius nodded and closed the door behind himself, very quietly. Shell-shocked, he undressed and sat in the bathtub. There were whole levels of things he didn't understand here; an abyss of personal darkness. A history of dark memories, of people who left their marks on the other man's soul. Sirius felt like a big, clumsy mutt, wagging its tail in a china shop full of delicate figurines. With a twinge of his heart, he realised that the years he had spent isolated, closed off in Azkaban, hadn't flow unnoticed for others. There were... things... that had happened to Severus, things that had painfully carved this body and this soul into what they were now.

//Someone had hurt him,// he thought miserably. //And he won't talk about it, won't tell me what happened, so I won't know how to avoid hurting him all over again.//

"Are you trying to drown yourself in there, Black?" An irritated voice came from the other side of the door. "Do try to get clean before dawn, will you?"

The familiar sneering tone helped him regain some balance. He washed briskly, wadded the night shirt into a ball and left the bathroom, moving quickly to slide under covers.

"Don't over-think it," Snape cautioned caustically. "You could hurt yourself."

"Oh, shut up." Sirius scowled and squirmed in the bed, trying to get comfortable. Wet hair was clinging to his face and soaking the pillow. He should have dried it before getting in. "You make me feel like it's our wedding night," he confessed on an impulse.

Unexpectedly, Snape snorted with laugher. Fascinated, Sirius leaned forward to observe how the waves of mirth tore the sediments of history from Severus' face. Those ugly layers of betrayals and hurt that had scared Sirius so much just a while before now melted away, to reveal a fairer, more alluring facet of that mysterious man. Tentatively, he touched his lips to one sharp cheekbone.

"You are pretty when you laugh," he whispered.

Severus was settling down slowly, random snickers still tearing free. "You've forgotten to bring your brains from the bathroom, Black. The last thing I am is pretty."

"Handsome, then," Sirius acquiesced. And to forestall another protest, "All right then, un-ugly. There, satisfied?"

"I can live with that," Snape said amiably.

Sirius moved closer still and cradled Severus' head to his chest. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered quietly, resting his cheek on that sweet-smelling hair.

"Mmhhm. Do whatever you like. I'll stop you if I don't like something." The last words were mumbled into his chest.

He raked his fingers down Severus' back--sharp shoulder blades, sharp vertebrae, the softness of buttocks, sharpness of hips. Soft, delicate skin at the back of Severus' thighs. He moved his attention to the front side of Severus' body, sliding down his lover's chest. Licking a nipple, then tracing his lips through the slight hollow below the breastbone, down the hairless stomach, to the hardness of Severus' erection. His hands framed Severus' scrotum, thumb stroking delicately just behind the sac. Above, he heard a tiny gasp and Severus' whole body arched delicately towards him.

"Would you...?" Severus' voice was breathless.

Sirius bowed his head and kissed the erection, then licked softly around the head. Smell and taste filled him, his senses cataloguing greedily. //This is Severus,// he thought. //The finest potion.// He took the hardness into his mouth and sucked, exhilarated by the sounds Severus was trying to suppress. Licking and sucking, sliding his lips and tongue all over the hot flesh--//no nips, he wouldn't like that//-- taking as much as he could into his mouth. One of his hands crept down to stroke his own prick; the other was still massaging Severus' perineum.

Suddenly, he was being tugged up. "Wha--?" He emerged from under the cover, breathing heavily, to see Severus staring at him, the pale cheeks for once flushed with colour. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing...," Severus answered breathlessly, snaking his arm around Sirius' back and bringing them closer. "I don't like the thought of you coming all alone down there."

Sirius snorted with surprised laughter, then groaned when Severus brought their hips together, crushing and rubbing their pricks against each other. "Mmm... wand duel..." he murmured, licking Severus' ear. //Bliss.// He brought his hand down, stroking and touching, then felt Severus' cool fingers on his own erection, every movement milking the sweetness from his loins and sending tiny flickers of magic up his spine. Severus quickened his strokes, and of course it was a race, and he was losing, but he didn't care--!

He came, shuddering and groaning, clinging to his lover tightly. Severus bucked up several times, rubbing his prick between their sweat-slicked bellies, and then, freed from the constraints of competition, he came as well.

"...and who made who come first?" he said as soon as he regained his breath.

"Prick." Sirius stroked his hair and kissed his eyebrow affectionately. "Told you s'not a race..."

"You only say so 'cos you lost..." Severus whispered and fell asleep almost immediately. Sirius wanted to stay awake, to make the most of this elation coursing through his veins and the closeness and openness between them, but his eyelids felt heavy and he yawned helplessly, unable to fight sleep.

When he woke up briefly a few hours later, they were still cuddled close, like puppies in a basket.

*

Chapter 6

Snape stayed in bed with him in the morning. Sirius decided it was a good sign. He was stroking Severus' arm lazily and enjoying the fit of their bodies as they lay spooned together. This was what life should be like, he thought, pressing his face into his lover's neck.

"Thank you," Snape said suddenly. Sirius jerked away, surprised.

"What are you thanking me for?" he asked warily, hoping that Severus hadn't come up with yet another reason why they shouldn't sleep together anymore.

Snape sighed and swallowed, pressing his forehead to the wall. "I've been... missing this," he confessed quietly. "Human contact. Not just touching, sex. Being with someone who... who knew me as a person. Not a tool. Or an ex-Death Eater."

Sirius gathered him close again. "I know what you mean," he whispered. "That's why I wanted to stay. Not just because I was sick and you were giving me a potion. Because you knew who I was."

"I was... happy. That first time." Snape's voice was strained. "When you offered to have sex just like that--as if I were one of your school friends. I liked that. It was only later, when I started to think... I shouldn't have measured you by my own standards."

"That's all right. Don't worry about it any more. After all," Sirius said with dry humour, "we were supposed to be enemies by our old standards." He combed his fingers through Severus' hair. The potion did a good job; it was still soft and fragrant.

Snape shifted and started talking again. "You called me twisted. Do you think I don't know that? We are such complete opposites of one another..."

"I wouldn't say that," Sirius returned to stroking Severus' arm. "And I didn't really mean that you were twisted--just that you were Slytherin, therefore had to be paranoid and suspicious."

"Oh, thank you. That makes me feel so much better about myself," Snape jibed. Sirius grinned, unseen. He rather hoped it did.

"Why do you think you were sorted into Gryffindor?" Snape asked, leaning back into him a bit.

"Huh. I guess because I wanted to be brave. I hated cowardice. Not being a chicken can be the most important premise in life for a little boy..." He wondered how life would look if people were sorted after their third or fourth year. Or if the houses were removed completely. "How about you? Cunning?"

"Ambition! Fame. Recognition." Snape snorted. "You know... Even when I tried to capture you after you ran from Azkaban... all I was thinking about was that I'd be getting an Order of Merlin. I'm afraid I didn't particularly care whether what Potter and his friends were saying was the truth... all I knew was that I had a chance to become famous." He grimaced. "Pathetic as it sounds, I've always wanted to be someone special."

//Oh, but you are,// Sirius thought, wondering whether that was supposed to be an apology or merely a statement of a fact. It didn't matter--the resentment for that particular conflict had long vanished. He hugged Severus briefly. "The potion will make you famous," he observed aloud. "And you gained some recognition when you testified against Death Eaters after the war."

"Notoriety, more likely! I had--offers. Back then. From people who thought being with a double-agent was exciting. Dangerous, or maybe romantic." He shuddered with disgust. "It was revolting."

"I'm sure you made short work of their advances." Sirius said, trying to imagine the bloodshed. "Oh, yes." Snape chuckled smugly. "But it reinforced my reputation as a... misanthrope. You are the first man in a long time who didn't mind my petty habits," he added seriously. "I admit it's unsettling. Sometimes you almost make me feel like Dumbledore does."

Sirius snickered. "Albus likes you."

"Exactly. That's what I'm talking about." Snape stretched in his embrace and laid back more comfortably. "You said 25 years in your note. That can't be true. You can't expect me to believe you thought about having sex with me for 25 years."

Sirius thought about it. "Well... not really. It wasn't like that." Snape huffed, as if to say that he knew it. "What I meant was that I liked you back then, and the feeling returned now. Remember that summer we spent taking advanced classes at Hogwarts, before our seventh year? We were almost... friendly, without anybody else to make us into enemies. You helped me with Potions, actually. If I hadn't," he swallowed forcibly. "If I hadn't done what I did later that year, we could have been friends."

"I don't think so. The Slytherins would never have allowed that. They'd already started... recruiting, then. Working on me. And I was too much of a coward to even consider making a stand against them."

"Oh, I was, as well. The whole raison d'etre for the Marauders was to fight Slytherins. Peter was... He was very upset with me for helping you with Transfiguration. I still can't understand him," he added, helplessly. "Was he actively evil, even then? Or was he just a weak opportunist?"

"The latter, I'd say. Very few people make an effort to be evil. And Riddle was a master at seeking out opportunists and using them."

"Anyway. I thought you were shaggable back then," Sirius said, determined to steer the conversation back to more pleasant topics. "And you haven't changed much. You are still," he licked Snape's neck, "a delicious object of sexual appeal".

That left Snape snorting and sniggering, unable to settle down for a long while. "You should work on making your flattery more credible, Black," he said finally.

"Right--as if you've never had at least some students coming on to you!"

"Oh, I have. For all the wrong reasons. The students who suddenly discovered my irresistible charm were usually those who were about to fail Potions," Snape said sarcastically.

"That's the twisted Slytherin speaking," Sirius teased. "Not that I'm encouraging you to have sex with students, but I'm sure some of them must have really had a crush on you." He moved his hand to Snape's hip, squeezing delicately. "Speaking about sex... do we have to get up any time soon?"

"No." Snape stretched again, luxuriously, rubbing his body along Sirius'. "It's Saturday. I'll have to teach you how to read a calendar some time soon." Sirius nipped his ear for that. "In fact... staying in bed sounds like a very good option." He turned to face Sirius, looking at him. "And Black... Sirius... yesterday, you were worried. I didn't mean to scare you."

"We won't do anything you don't like," Sirius said firmly, though his throat was clenched.

"Stop being noble," Snape snapped immediately. "I don't want you to. I can enjoy penetration if I trust my partner. I'll tell you if I don't like something. Don't try to second-guess me."

"Yes, Severus," Sirius said very meekly, and was rewarded by an irritated hiss and snort. He grinned. "Since we are already discussing our preferences, you are invited to have your wicked way with me--"

"Potter!" Snape exclaimed and sat up on the bed abruptly, grimacing.

"What?"

"Potter will be here soon. He said he'll check on you when he was here last week. I forgot about it." Snape was already getting out of bed. Sirius made a furtive move to grab him and groaned in frustration. He had forgotten as well.

They barely had time to dress and eat when the warning charms chimed, announcing there was a visitor standing in front of the dungeon door. Snape grabbed a book and hurried off to the bedroom, grumbling all the way, and left Sirius to open the door and welcome their guest.

~o~

Having forgotten about Harry's visit, Sirius didn't have time to prepare mentally for it or to analyse his feelings towards Harry and Remus' relationship. Now, sitting in front of his adult godson, he felt somewhat at a loss. After his talk with Severus and their flashback to school times, it was difficult to think of Moony as someone too old for anybody. In fact, looking at Harry's tall form and serious face brought to his mind the image of James. They weren't strikingly alike, but the similarity was there, and his mind was veering off to the old times again. He was wondering how he would react if James and Remus told him they were together. He'd be whacked, that's for sure--it'd be unexpected, but not, on any level, wrong. But could he really allow himself to be lulled by that? Harry wasn't James, even if he was as old as his father had been when he made Lily pregnant. Remus wouldn't hurt anybody intentionally, but... Sirius had made the mistake of dismissing the danger the werewolf presented once. He regretted not having asked Severus about his progress on the Wolfsbane potion and how it affected Remus. Would it save Harry if he were accidentally bitten?

There was, of course, also the issue of homosexuality and all the social pressure it involved. Sirius knew Harry didn't think much about his Muggle relatives, but he doubted the boy realised how conservative and narrow-minded wizarding families could be. He hoped the Weasleys didn't take their codes of morals right out of the times of Queen Victoria. And Hermione Granger, Muggle-born--what did she think? He had no idea what the current attitudes towards homosexuality were among Muggles. A generation ago, his Muggle grandfather was surprised though not shocked by Sirius' attraction to both sexes, but he warned his grandson to be very discreet about it. If Harry lost both his friends... it would be a disaster.

Sirius stifled a sigh and realised he had been staring silently at the tabletop for some time now. He cast a glance at Harry, who regarded him warily. Poor boy probably thought he was mustering his energy to yell again. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and smiling. "I don't know what to say," he admitted.

Harry smiled back, relief evident on his face. "That's all right, me neither." He shifted in the uncomfortable chair. "Are you... are you still angry?"

"No," Sirius replied immediately. "I was never angry with you. Or with Remus, in fact. I was terrified and confused..." Harry looked down, his face drawn again. Sirius awkwardly bore on. "Listen. I don't know what to tell you. All of a sudden, my godson turns out to be attracted to men and involved with my closest friend, who is more than twice his age... I'd be lying if I said I'm perfectly all right with that. It's weird, and it's going to take a lot of getting used to on my part. Are you... sure? You do understand that this is for life, Harry? Have you taken time to think about whether you are ready to commit yourself to one man? Because Remus isn't someone who'd say a word if you wanted to experiment, or simply have a go with someone interesting you've just met, or if you changed your mind two months from now--but it would kill him, Harry. It's not only you I'm worried about."

Harry reached out across the table and squeezed Sirius' hand briefly. "I know. I have thought about it, believe me. Actually... that's what I need. Someone to share my life with, somewhere quiet. I'm... tired."

That's what he was afraid of. "You won't be tired forever," he warned. "And when you no longer want the quiet, secluded life? Is there anything you want from Remus other than the quiet life? Because if there isn't, then at some point you'll have to break up and live with the consequences--or stay and resent it till the end of your life, making you both miserable."

"I won't resent it! We've been living together for a long time; we are more than lovers, we're friends!"

"But you had other lovers to entertain you then, didn't you?" Harry bristled at that, but Sirius went on. "Listen, I'm not trying to belittle what you have together, all right? I'm just trying to tell you why I'm worried. It doesn't have to happen, but it could."

There were so many things he was worried about that he couldn't say out loud. What if Harry had got involved with Remus just because he was the only man Harry thought of as family, and he was desperate to keep him close? What if it was a case of infatuation with a figure of authority, despite what Moony had said? Did Remus understand that Harry would never be able to leave him--because the boy was loyal to the core, and never avoided what he considered his responsibility--before he allowed himself to enter the relationship? Even in his clipped youth, Sirius saw too many of his school-friends marry because a child was on the way and resent each other bitterly shortly afterwards. To see that happen to Remus and Harry, who had had enough unhappiness in their lives already... it would be horrible. Sirius felt a wave of nausea overcome him, and shook himself from his brooding with determination--they already were together, it was too late for the talk about the consequences of entering this relationship. He'd just have to be there to help them pick up the pieces if the worst happened. He looked Harry in the eyes. "Just... try not to hurt each other, all right?" he said, feeling stupid for babbling platitudes.

"We won't. You'll see." Harry sat back and smiled at him. "You are coming to stay with us, right?"

"Oh. No, in fact, I'll be staying here with Severus for a while longer." The smile was waning and Harry was beginning to look unhappy, so he added, "It's not because I have something against your living together. Really." Harry looked aside and said nothing. He obviously didn't believe it. "Listen. I didn't come to live with you even before I knew you were together, right?" A nod. "And I'm very comfortable here at Hogwarts."

"All right... if that's what you want. It's just that I don't understand why you would want to stay with Snape, of all people," Harry said, frowning.

The playful, impish part of him managed to get control over his tongue before he could stop it. "Let's not argue over our choice in lovers, shall we?" he said, just to see Harry splutter and go from white to red to green, then to red again.

"Oh...but...you...he...you are..." Harry seemed to forcibly calm himself, only to explode again. "He tied you to the bed! That bastard! What kind of potion is he giving you? What did he do to you?" He was shaking with anger.

"Are you insane?" Sirius looked at his godson, astonished. "Severus is my friend! He's helping me. He wouldn't hurt anybody!"

"He was a Death Eater! And... and he is a mean, cruel, cold bastard! You don't know him..." Harry was watching him with horror and helplessness written on his face. Sirius marvelled at the sudden reversal of their roles. Maybe he could use it to explain to Harry why he had reacted so badly in the beginning... but later. First things first.

"I believe I know him better than you, Harry," he said evenly. "You see him only as a teacher you didn't like. He's much more than that."

"He's mean, sarcastic, unfair, selfish and arrogant!"

"And always gives you detention, yes?" Harry glared at him mutinously. "You've been trying to convince me you aren't a child, Harry--try to behave accordingly. Think for a moment. If he were cruel and selfish, would he take me in when I needed help? Would he give up his comfort to take care of me?"

"He's not doing it just because he's nice! He wants something from you!"

"Like what, for example?"

"Sex!" Harry said and turned beet red when Sirius started snickering madly. "Fine. All right. I don't know what he wants. But it's suspicious."

"Harry." With effort, he suppressed his hilarity and tried to treat the matter calmly. "Believe me when I say I know Severus much better than you do. He is a good, honourable, intelligent and caring man. He's also very private, and his reserve can easily be taken as coldness or meanness. I understand you didn't like his sarcasm when you were his student, but he actually has a great sense of humour, and he's a brilliant conversationalist. And we have a lot in common--we were at school together; we are from the same generation, we know the same people, we see certain things the same way. We find the same things funny. The attraction was unexpected--I wasn't thinking about it consciously when I came here. But it's there, and it's real. I'm asking you to try to accept that."

"He tried to put you in prison, after you escaped, without even listening to anybody! Doesn't that count?" Harry said obstinately. "Are you trying to tell me he's some kind of a fucking rose with barbed thorns a half-yard long and covered in poison?"

"Mind your language, please. And no, I don't feel angry at him for what he did then. He did what he thought was right." //Even if he doesn't believe it himself.// "You know, I actually thought you'd be happy for me," he added, wondering whether Snape was rubbing off on him. That was manipulative.

But it also worked. Harry stopped glaring, put his head on the table and groaned loudly. "I hate Snape..." he said plaintively. "As an ex-teacher, all right? It just figures that I'll have him in the family..."

//Family?// Sirius felt a wave of disquiet sweep over him. "Harry... don't... don't think of us as family just yet. It's too new and... I'm not really sure how Severus sees it." It could be just a temporary arrangement for him. That was a miserable thought.

Harry was watching him closely. "You don't know if he... cares back, do you?" His voice was kind, and worried.

"It's too early. We need time to work on it."

"If he hurts you..." Harry started, and then exhaled with a sigh. "This is weird. I thought I was going to be convincing you about liking my lover, not the other way around."

"It is weird," Sirius agreed. He felt vaguely embarrassed about stealing the scene from Harry. They were supposed to talk about Harry's problems, not his. "I guess now you know how I felt. Even though I liked Remus from the start. It's just... weird."

"All right." Harry rested his chin on his hands, still half- lying on the table, and grinned at him. "Let's not ever disapprove of each other's choice in lovers. I'd still like to know why he tied you to the bed. Unless it's something kinky," he added hastily. "Then I don't want to know."

~o~

Sirius told his story briefly, trying to emphasise the responsibility Severus took for him, and to convince Harry that he was safe and comfortable in the dungeons. Harry, as was expected, had trouble walking away doing nothing and leaving Sirius in someone else's care. He was so clearly miserable about it that Sirius decided to ask him to investigate the legal state of his house, just to give him something to do.

"When I inquired about it two years ago, I was told that the new owner had legal rights to it because too many years had passed since they occupied it to evict them," he explained. "But Severus thinks I might apply for some kind of compensation. My account in Gringott's was confiscated by the Ministry soon after my escape from Azkaban, as well. I don't know if there's any point trying to get the money back... so don't start any proceedings just yet. I need to know the situation and estimate my chances before I do anything."

"I'll ask around," Harry promised. "Ron's brother works at Gringotts; he's been appointed a branch manager recently and he'll know all about the procedures. Hermione could help as well; she's in public service, working for the Vice-Minister for Muggle Relationships. And Ron's wife's sister is a reporter for the Daily Prophet; I just know she'd love to write a scathing commentary about the Ministry helping themselves to the property of innocent people."

//Ron Weasley had a wife?// Sirius definitely had been out of the loop for much too long... His astonishment must have reflected on his face, because Harry grinned at him and added, "They've been married for two years already. Fadheela had twins recently--it must be in the Weasley bloodline."

"You know, it makes me feel old," Sirius complained half- seriously. It also gave him a pang to realise that the Potter bloodline would become extinct after Harry, just as his own would be with him. "How's your Muggle family? Is your cousin married as well? Maybe he'll have wizard children."

Harry snorted with distaste. "If he did, he'd probably get rid of them as soon as possible. Last time I saw him, he wasn't married. I don't keep in touch with them... I checked on them from time to time during the war to see if anybody had tried to threaten them, but now that we are safe I'd rather forget about them as soon as possible."

"Do you keep in touch with your school friends, besides Ron and Hermione?" Sirius hoped Harry did; he didn't like the idea of Harry withdrawing into seclusion. "I hope to visit Neville Longbottom some time soon. He was in the Magical Support Force during the war, and worked with my team for some time."

Harry's face darkened at the mention of the war. "I wish I could have done something. They rejected my application to the Air Force because of those headaches; you know, scar throbbing, fall off the broom, splat." He twisted his lips. "All I could do was sit there like a lame duck or play hide and seek with the Death Eaters."

For the first time, Sirius realised his godson felt guilty for not 'going to war'--it had never occurred to him that Harry would take his role in the fight with Voldemort like that.

"You did your job by attracting Voldemort's attention and distracting him enough for others to subvert his plans," he said quietly. "Can you imagine what would have happened had he succeeded in his petty quest to kill you and turned his full focus to the war? You put yourself in danger every day by publicly taunting him to attack you, attracting his attention. And your 'headaches' gave us more information on his whereabouts than he ever realised. You did your job, and you wouldn't have been of any use to anybody if you were in the field instead of staying at the centre of things."

Harry sighed and shrugged, obviously not convinced. "It doesn't matter now. I just... got fed up with always running away. It's nice to stay at one place for a long time, you know? To run a house. We don't have a house elf, of course, and we're taking turns cooking..."

"Moony can cook?" That was new.

"No," Harry grinned. "But we're making progress. No more instant meals, or rehydrate-with-a-swish-of-the-wand desserts! Ha. Maybe we could keep our own chickens. Do you know anything about keeping cows?"

"I know everything about keeping cows," Sirius said grimacing in exaggeration, "which is that you don't want to keep them. Believe me. Not without a house elf. You've never spent your holidays in the country, have you, Harry?"

"No--though I'd love to."

"I need to check with my Muggle relatives... I'm not sure if they even remember who I am--but maybe we could spend a week or two in the spring on my grandparents' old farm."

Harry brightened at the thought, and Sirius was happy to have found something they could do together.

~o~

"You defended me--from Potter," were the first words Snape directed at him after Sirius saw Harry out and returned to their bedroom.

"I did, I guess..." Sirius was a bit at a loss. What was Severus driving at?

He met with a set of raised eyebrows and a matching expression. A walking 'Indeed'.

"What did you suppose I'd do? Gossip about you behind your back? And anyway," Sirius decided to counterattack, since he had no idea what he was defending himself from, "you were eavesdropping."

Snape dismissed the accusation with a shrug. "I was wondering... Who were you trying to convince of my alluring qualities? Potter or yourself?"

"Oh, I need no convincing." Sirius felt a lecherous grin creep up his face. "But I couldn't possibly discuss with my godson what a luscious, juicy, delectable piece of arse you are..." Seeing Snape's lips twitch with restrained laugher, he succumbed to the temptation and licked that fascinating mouth, once, twice. Severus moved closer and, hesitantly, returned the caress with his tongue. They fell into a kiss, embracing each other lightly, drawing more comfort and reassurance than passion from the closeness. Sirius felt the last remnants of tension and discouragement from the morning leave him under the tentative stroke of Severus' hand on his shoulder-blades.

"I don't understand why you are so unhappy about Potter being a homosexual," Snape remarked when they finally separated and sat down. "You don't seem to have any... inhibitions yourself."

"I don't have anything against it. I'm just worried," Sirius sighed. "I should have been there to give him the talk, you know, explain all the things so that he didn't have to be embarrassed or learn it the hard way... Remember when we were young? The body below the waist wasn't even mentioned. You could kiss and cuddle half of the Quidditch team after practice and be considered 'friendly' by the old farts. Homosexuality didn't exist unless you caused a 'scandal', and 'carnal relationships' weren't discussed until a girl got pregnant and had to marry her boyfriend to be 'decent' again."

"Was this why James and Lily were married?"

"Oh, no, no. They got married right after school. Harry did happen by accident, sort of; they wanted children, just not then--not in the middle of a war. Lily told me she was using some Muggle potions or pills that should have prevented the pregnancy but they didn't work just this one time. Muggles seemed so much more advanced in this aspect than we are. I had to learn everything I was curious about from a Muggle book as well. My father gave it to me when I was thirteen. I regret I wasn't there to do the same for Harry."

Snape snorted. "A lot has changed since then, Black. Pomfrey is giving out contraceptive potions and teaching prophylaxis charms to any student who's interested, and the library has a whole section on 'carnal relationships'." He smirked at Sirius' open-mouthed astonishment. "Don't believe me? Go check for yourself."

"How did that happen? All the elderly crones in the school board and in the Ministry must have had a conniption!"

"You are forgetting that many of the oldest wizards died or fled the country during the First War. Look at Hogwarts-- Flitwick and McGonagall are our oldest teachers, and she's barely eighty! She was one of the youngest on staff when we were students. The same happened almost everywhere else. There was an almost complete change of guard at the Ministry, save Fudge; the Hogwarts' Board of Governors was replaced by the younger generation to the last man. Well, Riddle was targeting the Ministry and other officials to replace them with his loyal Death Eaters, of course. Others... had just decided to hastily retire. You know," he added as an afterthought, "if the wars had any positive effect it was that the old farts finally gave up the power they had been clinging to--one way or another."

"That's cold." Sirius frowned. Snape was speaking with a hint of underlying bitterness, and Sirius wondered whether he might be referring to his own relatives.

"Perhaps. Logic usually is." Snape grimaced. "But really, think about it. When the trouble with Riddle first started, most of the old generation couldn't be persuaded to do anything. For them, Aleister Crowley was the big news, not even Grindelwald. Everything had to be like it had been a hundred years before, when they were children. Every suggestion of improvement or progress was met with violent, conservative protest, or derision at best. Do you know why Riddle considered Dumbledore his enemy, not the Ministry? Because Dumbledore was one of the few that were able to take notice of the world around them and not live in the past century."

"While the others would pat your head and say, 'There, there, my boy, surely it can't be that bad?'" Sirius added. "I understand what you mean. I had to work with the Ministry's finest military advisors who didn't know curses developed 70 years ago. I wish they'd elect someone like Arthur Weasley as Minister of Magic."

"At the very least, he wouldn't tie up the post for ages," Snape agreed. "The Weasleys seem to come from a short-lived wizarding line; they rarely reach 110. They seem to compensate by having excessive numbers of children, don't you think?"

"Depends on what you consider excessive," Sirius shot back, somewhat testily, and earned himself a raised eyebrow. "Harry says Ron has twins... but you heard, didn't you? It's strange to think that James' line will end with Harry."

"Is that why you'd prefer him to fancy girls? Because he could have children then?"

"I wouldn't prefer him to fancy girls. It's his preference, all right? I do respect that. It's just that... for my parents and grandparents, having children was what made a family. It was so profoundly important to have them, and they were cherished and valued so much... My mother was stricken when she learnt she couldn't have any more children after me. In a way... it's hard to think that if something happened to Harry, that would be the end of it. Nobody left to... Just the end. And the other way round--when you die, there's nobody to remember you, nobody to watch a picture of you waving and smiling and tell their children who you were. That's what I envy the Weasleys. They can always rely upon their family, and there's so many of them--it makes you feel safer to think that you can't lose everything."

Snape regarded him quietly for a moment.

"Wizards have been experimenting with producing offspring by magical means for a long time," he offered.

"Ugh," Sirius said, queasy at the thought of homunculi and twisted little shapes floating in slimy jars in Knockturn Alley.

"Indeed. Admittedly, those were mostly Dark Wizards attempting to obtain wand and potions ingredients."

"Yeugh! Stop it!"

"Another common method of ensuring bloodline continuity was to pay a woman to carry your child," Snape said with an impassivity so studious that Sirius felt the hairs on his nape stand at attention. He sat up and looked keenly at his lover, wondering how to ask if Severus was talking about his own childhood.

After a while Snape met his eyes, lips twisted in a bitter smile, and nodded briefly.

"Was that how your parents got together?" Sirius asked openly, deciding the question Severus had just answered needed to be said aloud.

"My father had neglected his... family obligations for a very long time. Since he didn't marry in his prime, by the time he decided he should produce an offspring, he couldn't find a suitable candidate for marriage," Snape said dryly. "He despised 'modern' women, and most of the women of his generation were past child-bearing age. On the other hand, he shared your conviction that one's blood line must be preserved. When his health begun to deteriorate, he decided to hire a mother that would deliver his child. She was paid, impregnated--I shudder to think by what means--nine months later I was born, and she disappeared."

"So you've never even seen you mother?" The cruelty of this made Sirius sick.

"No. Had I turned out a squib, my father would have hired another woman to breed with. As it happened, that wasn't necessary." Snape sat back in his chair. "Don't look so shocked. I'm telling you this only to illustrate why I don't share your fascination with children and familial feelings."

Sirius fought the urge to cuddle Severus comfortingly. He wondered if he'd get hexed if he tried, and decided the odds were very high that he would. He cleared his throat. "That's evident," he said. "Who was your father? His attitude sounds peculiar, to say the least. Was he an aristocrat?"

Snape snorted disparagingly. "An aristocrat! No. No, he was a manservant, a valet, to none other than Lord Evarist De Latfeur Witherbroom. My family served the Witherbrooms for generations. My father thought himself elevated with the honour, and he was grooming me to replace him. Fortunately for me, old Witherbroom died without a son."

"That's why you were so... fascinated with the Malfoys? Because of their social standing?"

Snape shrugged uncomfortably. "Yes, I believe so. More than that--Lucius' mother was a Witherbroom. I was awed by his attention. Young Master Malfoy has stooped to talk with a servant boy--what an honour." He smiled thinly. "It took me some years to shake off my upbringing. Now I'm nasty to all people alike, regardless of their origins."

Sirius laughed at that, shaking his head at Severus' antics.

"If you want to marry and have children, then you should start looking for a wife before you are 50," Snape added suddenly, making Sirius blink with surprise.

"Wife? I don't want a wife! Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You've said yourself you considered procreation the highest goal in life."

Sirius was beginning to lose his grasp on the conversation. What was Severus talking about? "I said I liked the idea of big families having lots of children. Since I'm homosexual, I'm not going to have them--unless you suddenly develop a uterus!"

Severus' expression shifted, from disgusted at first, to amused, and then, inexplicably, to pleased. "I most surely will not," he conceded. "I merely assumed you were bisexual and intended to start your own family in time."

"I've known for many years that I didn't want to marry." Sirius shrugged. "And I'm certainly not obsessed with preserving my bloodline, as you put it. I kind of counted on nursing Harry's children, but I guess that's out too. Well, as Harry has said, he is my family, and now Moony 's too, I hope..." He sighed. "I wish I had had the chance to talk to Remus before I talked to Harry."

"Yes, I'm curious as to whether Lupin will take a lot of convincing to believe that I've debauched you, taking advantage of your frail emotional state," Snape observed lightly. "I wonder what Potter's report from today was like. I wish I were there."

"You really are a malicious bastard," Sirius said, snickering helplessly.

*

Chapter 7

"Put it in!"

"No!"

"Put. It. In. Me. Now." Snape was almost managing to hiss words without any sibilants in them.

"NO! I'm not doing anything until we talk!"

Snape glared at Sirius angrily and flopped down on the bed. "I swear, Black, you are the most difficult man on earth. I got the impression you wanted us to have sex?"

"Yes! But not if you are uncomfortable with it!"

"I am NOT uncomfortable with ANYTHING!" Snape yelled, springing up into a sitting position again. He'd been in his worst of moods, hissing and glaring and making demands in a clipped voice. Sirius regarded him helplessly. What had started to be about sex was now about pride, and Sirius couldn't see a way out. He couldn't allow Severus to force himself into an uncomfortable sexual situation without knowing why Severus was so uneasy about it the first time they were together. It was like running through a minefield with a strained grin on your face, just because Severus was too proud to accept his own limitations. Of course, he made the mistake of voicing his concern. He should have guessed that saying out loud that Severus needn't worry, and displaying whole-hearted sympathy towards the proud bastard would only result in a fight. Now there was no way to go but forward. Sirius wasn't able to fuck a man who didn't enjoy it, just because that man's competitive streak demanded so.

"Listen, you plainly said you didn't want to do it before..." //You looked scared.// Sirius thought back to the other night and relived his own fear and helplessness at the sight of his lover's wariness. What had really shaken him was the chink in the armour of indifference and cool superiority that Severus had displayed so unexpectedly. Snape had been so unsettled by it on their first night together that the feeling overcame his pride. Now that he had regained his equilibrium, he was apparently trying to pretend that nothing had ever happened that could touch him, and that he was perfectly able to do what other men did in bed, see if he wasn't. Always trying to fly that extra bit higher than you, faster than you, the Severus Snape he remembered.

"All right." Snape made a visible effort to calm himself, though his patience was obviously of the gossamer quality. "I was uncomfortable with the idea of anal sex during our previous... coupling. However, I am perfectly at ease with the thought now. Could we please continue!" he gritted out, confirming Sirius' guess.

"So explain to me what made you change your mind," Sirius said stubbornly. "Listen, I'm... I mean, it's obvious that something made you uncom... not very enthusiastic about it. I just want to know what happened, whether someone hurt you." There, he had said it out loud. He didn't use the word that echoed nastily through his mind, but it was obvious, wasn't it? "Tell me what happened. Was it during... during the time with the Death Eaters?" He swallowed with difficulty.

Snape stopped hissing and stared at him disbelievingly. "You think I was raped? Black, what did you think Death Eaters were doing during their meetings? Indulging in homosexual, sadomasochistic orgies?"

Sirius felt himself flush with embarrassment. "I don't know what they did, all right? They could have!"

Snape snorted condescendingly. "And I thought you were reasonable, Black. None of the great masters were interested in my bony arse. They talked about politics and spewed hatred towards Muggles, tortured some if they could get them, then went home to be dutiful husbands and fathers. They were family men, not a bunch of teenage Quidditch players!" He seemed derisively amused.

Sirius would not fall for the obvious distraction and argue the issue of whether teenage Quidditch players habitually organised sadomasochistic orgies. He returned obstinately to the main subject. "So you weren't hurt then. All right. But it's obvious something happened. Just tell me. Please." He was close to twitching now, as distressed as Snape was angry. It tied icy knots around his heart to know that his lover had been in a position of dependence for so long, with someone in power always making a point of dominating him--be it Death Eaters, Aurors, or his noble 'friends'.

"I wasn't ready just then. I preferred to start with something else," Snape said, striving for calmness. "No, it's not because someone hurt me! Merlin, could you let it go? You are the most stubborn--!"

"Tell me." He rose up his elbows and stared at Snape, who was staring at the ceiling. The anxiety and despair in Sirius' voice seemed to have finally breached Snape's reserve.

"All right. Calm down, Black, I wasn't really raped. I don't have any horrible memories associated with anal sex," he said in a quiet voice, devoid of his usual mockery. "It's just... that it can be so messy. And... it's so utterly personal. I didn't trust you just then, to be the kind of lover I'd enjoy having that kind of sex with. Yes, I did have some... unsatisfactory experiences. Not hurtful as such, just not very enjoyable, in more than just the carnal aspect." He twisted his lips in a strangely self-deprecating grimace. "I realise it's very much out of fashion today but I find this kind of commitment emotionally straining."

Sirius carded his hand through Snape's hair and kissed him softly. Hagrid had told him, up front, in simple words. Snape wasn't one for a quick bang. He had been hurt, whatever he believed, by someone who used his body as a prop. Probably by his so-called friends, 'young master' Malfoy and company--he wouldn't have spoken of trust in relations to the... others.

"Whoever hurt you deserve to have their balls chewed off and left on their doorstep," he said quite seriously. Snape snickered, somewhat hysterically. "Really. I'm sorry I insisted so much. I needed to make sure what we do will be enjoyable for both of us... I didn't want to ruin the evening bringing back old memories."

"What about you?" Snape asked suddenly, looking straight at him with keen eyes. "You seem to have jumped to conclusions pretty quickly. Were you raped in prison?"

Merlin, he didn't mince words, did he? "No," Sirius answered shortly. "Dementors aren't interested in sex."

"And before?" Snape drilled relentlessly. "When you were caught? Did the Aurors...?"

"No." He didn't want to talk about it but there was no escaping it now. "They just beat me. Didn't use Crucio, that'd be unforgivable"--Snape twisted his lips, acknowledging the bitter joke--"so they just broke my ribs and arms, gave me a concussion. I don't remember much of it. I was in a haze even before, since I learned about James and Lily. Then, with the concussion after the interrogation... I don't know. I don't think anything happened. I don't know." He didn't remember. He was trembling for real now, short, abortive shivers of helplessness and howling despair raked from the bottom of his heart. He turned his back to Snape and hugged a pillow to stop the tremors. "I'm sorry. I don't think I'm in the mood for anything tonight after all . Would it be all right if we just slept now?"

Snape didn't answer, sneaking his arms around Sirius instead and gathering him close. "We have both been damaged in a way," he said very quietly after a while. "I insisted today only because I wanted to show to you--to prove to you," he corrected himself, "that I do trust your skill. And your carefulness." The words were coming haltingly. "I trust you."

"I trust you too," Sirius said hoarsely, gripping Severus' wrist tightly. "Could we... could we put it off and try this again sometime later? Without trying to prove anything. We'll try to go slow, work around the old ghosts. Maybe we should borrow some of those sex manuals for young wizards you told me about," he joked feebly.

"Yes, of course," Snape snorted behind him, joining the game. "Preferably with as many students seeing us get them as we can manage. You're trying to undermine my reputation, Black, admit it!"

~o~

The following week, Sirius spent most of his days working with Hagrid in the Forest. Groups of new creatures were dumped there almost every day, and they formed herds that wandered aimlessly or attacked other species. Some wouldn't let humans anywhere near them, so Hagrid asked Sirius to transform into his dog form and try to manage the situation. Sirius ran till his paws bled, barked till he got hoarse, and tried not to bite for as long as possible. Then he went home to get some sleep and came back the next day, envying Hagrid his seemingly inexhaustible reserves of cheerful energy. Despite numerous bite marks and hoof-bruises, the half-giant was beaming at every new wild beast coming into their hands. He was as happy as Sirius had ever seen him.

"We might get a dragon!" Hagrid announced excitedly one morning, after they were done dispatching the newest arrivals.

Sirius groaned inwardly, recalling that conversation. A dragon! The dire wolves were difficult enough--they ganged up on him that day and knocked him around pretty badly. He crept home limping through the melting snow and mud. Mid-way, when his leg hurt too much, he had to transform and trot the rest of the distance on three very tired paws.

Snape was furious when he saw Sirius' lamentable state.

"Are you both insane?" he yelled in his sternest voice. "Is this an elaborate way to get yourself killed, Black?"

Sirius was too tired to argue. "Tea," he begged weakly. He tried to hobble to his armchair and hissed in pain. "And something analgesic, if you'd be so kind..."

"Your leg! Is it broken?" Snape helped him sit down. "Don't move, I'll get Pomfrey."

"There's no need. I fixed my bones more than once during the war. Just let me rest a while."

After he had had his tea, set his bones, closed major wounds and disinfected the scratches, he slid into the bathroom. While he was washing, Snape bullied some hapless house-elf into preparing a late dinner. He ate quickly, grateful for the hot and filling food.

"That man should be locked up," Snape said suddenly. "It could be tolerated if he were only dangerous to himself, but he's a menace to everybody at Hogwarts."

"Who?"

"Your so-called 'friend', of course, the same who sent you after a pack of dire wolves without backup. You could have died today, Black! It's a miracle you didn't. How could you be so stupid to go in there on your own? What were you thinking?"

"Hagrid didn't mention there were so many of them," Sirius explained. "I didn't realise I was going against an organised pack."

"He does it all the time! Do you remember the Hippogriff incident the year you escaped from Azkaban? Draco Malfoy was almost killed by a wild beast Hagrid brought to a class."

"Buckbeak? He had a temper, yes, but he wasn't dangerous once you--"

But Snape didn't even listen to him, continuing his angry tirade. "...And he's always taking children to serve detention in the Forbidden Forest. He's not just being stupid; he realises they might die there. He just doesn't care!"

"Hagrid doesn't..." Sirius frowned, pondering on how to phrase his thoughts. "It's not that he doesn't value people's lives. It's just that he doesn't really consider humans that much different from any other species he likes. He won't value your life over a unicorn's or a dragon's. Or a giant's."

"Well, he didn't send a giant in there to die today, did he?" Snape bit back. "It's no wonder you thought it was fun sending me after Lupin after you spent your schooldays with this... this... maniac!"

"Oh, come on, he probably didn't know! The wolves must have found a smart leader and attacked only where Hagrid wouldn't notice. And don't even compare him to me. He didn't risk my life deliberately, as I did yours." Sirius felt exhausted.

"He sent one man against a forest brimming with the most dangerous beasts known to the wizarding world--but that wasn't deliberately risking your life?" Snape's voice dripped with sarcasm. "If you value your hide, tell him you won't go into that forsaken place anymore."

"I can't let him down like that. I'll talk to him about not taking students to the Forest, though," Sirius promised.

"I don't understand why you worry about you letting him down," Snape said sardonically. "He turned his back on you immediately after you were sent to Azkaban, without even a passing thought that you might have been innocent. Some friend."

Sirius swallowed the hurt these words brought. He had been fighting the disappointment at his friends' readiness to believe he was a murderous traitor for many years. Some, like Remus, he could understand easily. For others, he had to find excuses and explanations to make himself feel better.

"The circumstances testified against me. He might have believed the official word and felt angry at himself for liking me before," he tried tentatively.

"If you really want to believe that," Snape said ironically, "I think you are too generous. Are you afraid you'll lose his friendship again if you confront him about it? Or if you stop risking your neck in the Forest for the sake of his precious beasts?"

Sirius only shrugged in response, too weary to try to refute the preposterous accusation, or to argue that letting go of a grudge wasn't a sign of weakness. They sat in silence for a while, staring into the fireplace.

"I prefer to think of people's favour as a temporary arrangement. If you constantly remember that someone who likes you today may resent you tomorrow, you won't be disappointed at the change of their feelings," Snape said with a hint of sympathy in his voice. "People are like the weather, Sirius. Their friendship isn't a constant, or something you should rely on. You only deceive yourself, trying to make up justifications for them."

"That's a very disillusioned take on the world," Sirius said. He huddled in the chair and sighed heavily. The despondency lurking in his heart floated to the surface again.

"No illusions, no bitter disappointments," Snape agreed. "You are too ready to believe the best about people, and as a result, you are deeply hurt when your expectations don't come true. You were so sure Lupin wouldn't attack me, even as a werewolf. You were so sure I would be decent and wouldn't disclose what he was. You were sure your friends would be on your side. Well, Black, it's not like that. Nobody is worth such absolute trust. Everybody will sooner or later reveal their dark side."

"Even you?" Sirius asked with a small unhappy smile.

"I wear my dark side on the surface," Snape huffed.

"I'll have to dig in to find your bright side, then," Sirius tried to quip feebly.

Snape let out a dismissive snort. "I do realise trying to change your point of view is useless. It's just... painful to see what trusting in people did to you. You were one of the brightest, happiest, friendliest people I've ever seen. Now--you rarely even smile. My potion has helped you calm down and push the sadness to the background, but no matter how I try, I can't get you back to what you were. You keep hiding here with the old, discarded furniture and a compromised misanthrope. If you go out, you walk as a dog. You easily forgave everybody who deserted you--Lupin, Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall--as if you were worthless and they were of more value. You won't hold it against them because you are afraid they might turn away from you again. You torture yourself over an old prank, when such bumbling idiots as Hagrid risk your and other people's lives every day without thinking twice about it."

"Old prank? Is that all that it is? It seemed much more important to you in the past," Sirius pointed out regretfully.

"Do you really think I hated you because I thought you tried to kill me? It was just an easy mark, Black, an easy thing to throw in your face during an argument. It wasn't as if I could call you a greasy grovelling bastard! Lucius Malfoy made me walk through the Forest without my wand as an initiation, before I could be admitted to his circle of cronies. He laughed himself silly when I emerged bleeding and mauled. I didn't hate him for endangering my life. I was like you--I tried to justify what he did for my own sake." He paused for a while, reflecting calmly. "No, I think I hated you because, despite my best efforts, I was drawn to you--and you didn't seem to like me back, choosing your friends over me. Hatred was a handy crutch to help me deal with rejection. When you came to me and explained yourself, just to make me feel better, that old resentment lost its ground."

Sirius was amazed at the admission, and at the depth of Severus' understanding of his own heart. They had grown close during the past weeks, he thought, if they could talk about matters like this without feeling awkward or wary. He tried to analyse his own emotions similarly, to offer Severus a like insight into his mind.

"I hoped that saying I felt guilty might rectify the harm in some tiny way," he said slowly. "And whatever Malfoy might have been--it hurts that you have to mention me in the same context as him. After years of despising him and looking down on him, it hurts to know that I'm exactly like him at heart," he added.

Snape only shook his head. "That is the Soul Rot talking. You will get better, I can promise you that much. Right now you are so wound-up in reminiscing about the past that you can't see the difference between yourself and a bastard like Lucius. In a few weeks you will see that you don't need to feel less worthy than the people who hurt you, and that you don't have to earn their favours."

"But I need people," Sirius said desperately. "I need them around me, liking me and touching me, and taking me in. You may think it's infantile or pathetic, but I can't be as self-reliant and self-sufficient as you, Severus."

"People need you!" Snape said sharply. "You have more to offer to them than they can give you. It's they who should worry about earning your friendship back, not the other way round. You knew that, subconsciously, when you didn't want to turn to them for help. Did any of your so-called friends ever apologise for abandoning you?"

"Remus did. And he was the one whose trust I betrayed most."

"How noble of him," Snape snorted. "And whose trust have you betrayed beside his, pray tell? You are making up reasons to feel guilty. I can see now how the years in Azkaban affected you. I made a mistake when I assumed your disorder was purely external, caused by dark Dementor magic. If you crave human contact that much, the prolonged isolation must have been a soul-wrenching torture in itself. I am all the more concerned about your withdrawing from the world now. I wouldn't want you to become like me. You are different, and you have different needs."

"I'm a different person than I was before Azkaban. Less extroverted, quieter. Maybe wiser."

"And you think it's necessary for you to feel worthless to be all that?"

"Perhaps," Sirius shrugged. "It's difficult to keep the bright and complacent attitude after what I've seen and done."

"I give up. We are going in circles," Snape said in exasperation. "You are going to see Lupin and Potter next weekend. Perhaps socialising will cheer you up."

~o~

They made love that night, as if to repel the shadows of their harrowing exchange. Paradoxically, the talk of old betrayals and hurts brought them closer and dissolved the last barriers between them, allowing them to move beyond hesitant exploration to passion and heat. Sirius learned that Severus liked being teased and licked and caressed, and that the insides of his thighs were special spots. Knowing that Sirius had no inhibitions about being penetrated, Snapegave into the experience with aplomb. He didn't insist on being fucked himself, and Sirius was glad they steered clear of the difficult subjects for the night. He had intended to go slow, penetrate with tongue first, then fingers; teach his lover to gradually accept his body that close. But Snape surprised him, taking the initiative, and Sirius gave up on his plans without regret. Arching into the angular body behind him, gasping shamelessly--there was no awkwardness in what he was experiencing, only fulfilment and ecstasy--with one white, long-fingered hand wrapped tightly around his cock and the other flat across his chest, filled and embraced, Sirius let himself be lost in pleasure.

~o~

The next morning was sunny and Sirius was surprised by the difference it made to his mood. He got up--kissing Severus on the temple on his way out of bed, and earning a disgusted snort in reward--ate breakfast and hurried to Hagrid's hut. After a long, exhausting conversation, he managed to convince the half-giant that a dragon would be better off in a less crowded environment, and that the Forest had reached its limits. Close to tears, Hagrid agreed to give up the idea of admitting any more refugees.

They spent the rest of the day in an open, sunlit clearing, patching up the Forest's inhabitants who were intelligent enough to seek human help. After classes ended, they were joined by Professor Evans, who taught Care of Magical Creatures. To Sirius' immense relief, he was able to actually communicate with a lot of the sapient creatures they had to deal with. While Hagrid shared incredible empathy with the animals, he was often unable to decipher the more abstract needs and complaints of the intelligent species. The break-trough came when Evans managed to convince several Leshies to translate for him. The wood-elves, who had been anxious and resentful of Hagrid and Sirius trespassing in their forest, finally stopped sulking and agreed to serve as Evans' intermediaries with the bashful dryads and impatient rusalkas. One Leshy even volunteered to take care of the dire wolves.

Because of his teaching duties, Evans could devote only a little time to helping in the Forest. However, he promised to contact his siblings and cousins to see if anyone would be willing to come to work in the Forest for the meagre pay Hogwarts could afford. Sirius dearly hoped they would.

*

Chapter 8

Prodded incessantly by Snape, Sirius started going out more. The situation in the Forest was normalising slowly and he often found himself free of any duties in the afternoons. He made a point of spending them outside: wandering through the quiet forests around Hogsmeade, tracking animals, and enjoying the smell of the coming spring.

He made a trip to Hogsmeade once to pick up a journal for Snape, and spent an hour wandering aimlessly or staring at shop windows.

Dervish and Banges was selling handheld fireplaces for "mobile wizarding professionals." A large flaming advertisement encouraged: 'Firetalk While You Walk! Communicate anytime, anywhere, with anyone!' Sirius scratched his ear absent-mindedly, wondering why anyone would want their boss to be able to harass them anytime and anywhere. Someone shooed him, so he got up and moved on. He spent some time prowling around Honeydukes and got an elderly witch to pat him on the head and feed him a large chunk of nougat, to the utter disgust of the cat she carried in her basket.

Finally, he trotted to a quiet corner behind the Post Office and transformed into his human form. He found the tiny local bookshop and went in, straightnening his robes. Severus wanted him to pick up the latest issue of Love & Sparks' Caldera. It couldn't be owled because it contained free samples of some volatile potions. Sirius cast a wary glance at the cover picture of the editor-in-chief, Ransom Love, grinning widely and waving several stoppered vials at him. He hoped the samples weren't going to blow up in his face.

Suddenly, he realised that the need to be cautious meant he wasn't going to be able to go as a dog, and he cursed Severus' manipulative streak. He must have done it on purpose, to force Sirius to practice being human. Sirius shrugged and spent some time thumbing through old issues of 'Transfigurations Weekly', trying to get used to the idea of showing his face to the world so openly again.

Harry had insisted on lending him some money--his godson was so persistent and determined that Sirius couldn't find a way to say no. Harry pointed out that Sirius needed basic things and that he would easily be able to return the small sum in the future, when he got his bank account back or found a job. Sirius relented, mostly because there was no way for him to refuse without hurting Harry's feelings.

He found himself fingering the Sickles in his pockets and wondering how to spend them sensibly; robes and warm underwear, for sure. He walked up to Gladrags and went in.

He emerged fifteen minutes later carrying his most sensible purchases, which included a pair of moss-green, fine wool trousers with a particularly smug-looking snake embroidered over the back pocket--expensive, but what a perfect gift for Severus! He took it out to examine it again. The minuscule snake smirked insultingly and poked its tongue at him. Yes, perfect.

He walked briskly, tensing a bit as he passed through the crowds of wizards and witches in the streets. Nobody was paying him any attention, and after a while he managed to relax to some extent. The walk along the empty road to Hogwarts was much more pleasant than the teeming village. The weather was changing; the days were already becoming longer and warmer. The groves around the lake were still leafless, but the first catkins were unfurling on the hazel trees, and patches of delicate, white snowdrops were peeking from under brown, dead leaves. Sirius strolled slowly around the shore, trying to spot the water folk and entertained himself by refreshing what little he knew of Mermish.

"Choose a Fireplace with Free Shipping," he announced, handing Severus his journal and the package containing the trousers.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus stared at him in astonishment.

"Dervish and Banges has a new collection of cutting-edge fireplaces," Sirius explained, chuckling. "I saw their advertising board."

"Oh, that... It's young Banges; he married a Muggle-born witch and she has him completely under her-- what is this supposed to mean?" He was holding the trousers in two fingers, stretching his hands as far from his body as possible and glaring at the smirking snake.

"It's for you," Sirius said with feeling. "As a thank you for putting up with me."

"Underwear?" Severus curled his lip. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"First of all, it's not underwear. More and more wizards are wearing trousers without robes. Besides, I'm tired of hearing your knees rattle against each other. They'll keep you warm."

"Indeed." Snape's expression was extremely dubious. He examined the snake with a frown. "And what's this?"

"Decoration. You can keep the snake or change it into your initials." To demonstrate his point, Sirius took the trousers and jabbed the snake with his wand. It rolled its eyes condescendingly and slithered into a double S. "See? Severus Snape. Sexy Slytherin." He threw the garment at Snape. "Come on, be nice. Try them on. You can wear them under your robes and nobody will see."

Snape shrugged and sat down to put on the trousers, then lifted his robe to examine the fit.

"They are indeed quite warm," he said with a hint of surprise.

"Of course they are warm. It's Puffskein wool." Sirius admired the way in which the rich fabric flowed from Snape's hips and subtly accentuated his calves. He chose a tight fit because he suspected Severus would never agree to wear the garment without his robe. He didn't expect the results to be this... interesting. Snape had splendid legs.

"Well?" Snape quirked his eyebrow at him meaningfully. "Isn't this the part where you... unwrap me?"

Sirius couldn't believe his own ears. Was Severus suggesting...? Evidently. He felt himself grin radiantly. It was the first time Snape suggested, albeit indirectly, that they should have sex. Sirius was beginning to feel slightly awkward at always being the lecherous, needy one.

"It was supposed to be a sensible gift, not an innuendo," he qualified, just to make sure.

Snape dismissed the caveat with a smirk rivalling the snake in its smugness. He took off his robe and turned to walk right into Sirius' embrace.

Sirius slid his hands down the warm, soft fabric of the trousers, enjoying its smoothness and the warmth of the body it enclosed. "Bed, then?" he asked quietly.

"What a sensible man you are, Mister Black..."

~o~

"Apparate me to Harry's house?" Sirius asked next weekend.

Instead of making the customary fuss about being bothered, Snape got up and retrieved his coat. They walked together slowly down the Hogsmeade road, silently enjoying the mellow colours of sunset-painted clouds and the sharp, prickly, fresh scent of early spring in the air. Or at least one of them enjoyed it, Sirius reflected, because there was no knowing what Snape thought about sunsets.

When they passed the last set of charms protecting Hogwarts, Snape hugged Sirius close with one arm, fishing for his wand with the other. Sirius made the most of the embrace, sneaking his arms behind Snape's back and tucking his nose into Snape's collar.

"There's no need to strangle me," Snape said. "I assure you I can Apparate someone without having to be welded to them."

"I believe you." Sirius smiled into the collar. "Still, I like it better this way."

Snape only snorted and waved his wand. The world whirled around and Sirius felt the ground disappear from under his feet. Immediately, he got dizzy and nauseated, close to panic. A split second later the world rearranged itself around him into different shapes, but the feeling of vertigo didn't vanish. Sirius let go of Snape, wobbled on his feet and sat down with a thud, looking up in helpless surprise at his own ineptitude.

Snape helped him get up to his feet, by the expedient of grabbing the scruff of his coat and pulling him up, and then proceeded to brush off the wet snow and mud from his butt. He didn't say a thing, and Sirius felt a wave of embarrassment and anger mixed with bitterness rise in him. He made a fool of himself and Snape considered him to be in such a bad shape he didn't even snicker? He needed to be fed and washed and apparated, and now even walked around, like a fucking puppy. Life stank.

"Oh for goodness sake, Black, stop pouting!" Snape growled unexpectedly. "I didn't even smile!"

"No, you didn't, that's the point! I'd rather you did, then I could tell you to stuff it!" He knew he was being childish and unreasonable.

"There's just no winning with you, is there?" Snape said in exasperation, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

"Nope." Sirius managed a smile. All right, maybe Snape wasn't customarily polite to the horribly ill. Maybe he just tried to be nice. He'd be cured of that notion now, for sure. Sirius grinned a bit more sincerely and massaged his tailbone. "Let's go."

Snape escorted Sirius up to the brightly painted door of Harry's house, but before they had a chance to knock, it opened, revealing a concerned-looking Harry.

"Sirius, I saw you fall! What happened?" He was ushered in, relieved of his coat and guided in the direction of the living room.

"The potion he is taking interferes with his sense of orientation, which fact he considers a personal insult," Snape said impassively and moved as if to leave the house. Sirius grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the living room.

"Stay. I won't be long. I'll need you to take me back."

Snape shrugged and took off his coat.

Sirius turned to see Remus coming into the room, dressed in some ridiculously worn-out robes. Moony was smiling, his eyes beaming with an openness and trust Sirius hadn't seen directed at him since that horrible night twenty-some years ago.

"Hello, Sirius," he said quietly. "I'm happy to see you."

Feeling as if some little shattered bit of his soul has healed itself within that moment, Sirius almost ran up to fall into Remus' outstretched arms, laughing freely and trying to lift Remus bodily off the floor.

"Moony!" He clapped Remus' shoulder blades and tousled his hair. "I'm happy to see you too," he said, marvelling at the forgotten emotion coursing through his veins again. Happy. He was happy.

Remus laughed back. "I can see you are better."

They looked into each other's faces and grinned again, schoolboys' grins. Beside them, Harry was glaring at Snape and Snape was sneering at Harry. Remus shook his head at them in mock defeat.

"You're just in time for tea. Please, sit down. Severus?"

Sirius tugged Snape's hand, bringing his lover to sit beside him on the low sofa. Harry cast Snape a last glare and disappeared in the kitchen.

"Do you always have to egg him on?" Sirius whispered urgently when Remus turned to summon china from a cupboard. He tried to fit his long legs under the low tea table and bumped his knee painfully.

"He's so easy..." Snape smirked evilly, obviously pleased with himself. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and smiled at Harry, who was coming back with a huge plate of scones in one hand and a kettle in the other.

The scones tasted heavenly, even for someone used to Hogwarts cuisine. The trouble with house elves, Sirius reflected, masticating happily, was that they always, always followed the recipe to a tee. There was no inspiration involved; everything tasted the same way every time.

"They're fantastic," he complimented Harry indistinctly, spraying crumbs everywhere. "Aren't they, Severus?"

"Yes, indeed," Snape replied congenially. "I must congratulate the makers of the mix, Potter, for achieving what I could not as your teacher--I didn't hear any explosions, and there's no smoke..."

"Harry doesn't use ready-made mixes," Remus said proudly. "He makes his own recipes."

"My goodness, Potter! You are a man of many wondrous talents. The great defender of wizardkind and a master chef, all in one."

Harry flushed red. "You know, Snape, you are the only man I know who can be maliciously amiable. It's an art, it really is." He kept his voice nonchalant, but he was glaring daggers. "Say, do you practice that frustrated-and-bitter look every day in front of a mirror?"

"What's the matter, Potter, you suddenly don't like being told how exceptional you are?"

"You need to get over that wheedling attitude, Snape. Flattery will get you nowhere."

They were both seething now, and the argument was obviously spinning out of control. Sirius sighed inwardly. Something had to be done if the evening were to remain a pleasant social call.

"Hey! Shut up, both of you. You are upsetting Remus," he said sternly. Moony shot him an amused glance, but the ruse seemed to work. Harry turned to his lover with concern; Snape frowned and glanced at Remus with a mixture of remorse and suspicion.

"Thank you, Paddy," Remus said evenly, though his voice vibrated with suppressed laughter. "Would you like some tea, Severus? Green, is that right?"

"Yes, please. You've always made excellent tea, Lupin." Snape smiled pleasantly at their host, a veritable picture of a mild-mannered gentleman. Harry rolled his eyes but didn't comment.

Sipping the aromatic tea, Sirius thought about how he enjoyed this--Severus' solid, warm presence by his side; Moony perched on the arm of the sofa on the other side of Sirius; Harry, sprawled relaxedly in the armchair by the table, his anger temporarily defused; the glow and crackle of the fireplace, the smell of tea and baking, and raspberry preserves. When was the last time he sat by someone's table, eating raspberry preserves and talking about nothing in particular? Must have been before the war. Before both wars.

He stretched contentedly and put his arm around Severus' shoulders.

"Listen everybody, I want to make a toast," he announced.

"Wait, let me get the claret." Remus got up and retrieved a bottle and four glasses.

"We only need three glasses. He's not drinking," Snape said, pointing to Sirius.

"Why don't you let him decide!" Harry was angry again. "He's not a child!"

"No, Potter, you are," Snape shot back. "One might hope you would have learned to observe, if not think, but obviously that's beyond your capabilities. He's taking a potion that already interferes with his balance and reflexes. Do you want him to keel over for your enjoyment?"

The game of insults forgotten, Harry leaned forward and grabbed Snape's wrist. "What's in the potion? Please, you have to tell me. I don't want to make another stupid mistake like that." His earnest gaze was fully focused on Snape, worry written all over his face. Snape relented.

"Black just needs to avoid any charms, potions and brews that affect the brain for a while. That includes alcohol. He's in no danger. He'll give you a sample of my potion to test if you don't trust me."

"No, that's all right." Harry let go of Snape's arm and sat back. His eyes flickered to Sirius' face for a second. "I'm sorry," he said to Snape.

Well, those were about the first civilised words the two of them had exchanged in his presence, Sirius thought. There was hope. Still...

"What about my toast?" he complained dramatically, raising his teacup. "May I have your attention please?" When everybody took their glasses, Sirius made a solemn face and cleared his throat again. "Seeing as we are all gathered here..."

"Sounds like a funeral speech."

"Shut up, Moony. Well, here we are, the four of us, drinking and stuffing ourselves with cakes, enjoying the company. We may have our differences"--a pointed look to Harry and Severus--"but in the end, we are all on the same side. We care for each other, and stand up for each other. So. Here's to us." Glasses clinked. Sirius sipped some of his tea and added, "Here's to the new Marauders!" Harry grinned happily; Severus choked on his claret. Slapping his lover's back solicitously, Sirius looked up at Moony. "All right?" he asked.

"Yes," Remus answered simply, smiling.

~o~

After they had Apparated near Hogwarts, Sirius transformed and ran around for a while, stretching his dog muscles and burning off the excess sugar he had consumed. It was so much easier to move around in his animal form. He realised he must have spent so much time as a dog in recent months that his human body didn't get enough exercise. Severus was right to prod. It would do him good to run on two legs for a change.

He ran up to Severus and changed back. They had been walking in companionable silence for some time, each of them immersed in thoughts, when Sirius said suddenly, "He's taller than me."

"Lupin?"

"Harry. I only noticed it now, when we were saying goodbye." When he hugged his godson and realised he was embracing a grown up man in his arms, not a child.

"Mmm," Snape agreed. "He's taller than any of us. A proper young hero. It wouldn't do for him to be little."

Sirius felt his eyebrows raise at the acrimony. "Why do you dislike Harry so much, Severus? What did he ever do to you?" he asked, frowning.

"I've already told you why I don't like Harry Potter," Snape said. Seeing Sirius' blank face, he added, "Because, frustratingly, he always manages to get the better of me."

"You can't be serious! He doesn't! And... and even if he did, he doesn't do it on purpose!" It was unfathomable that Severus, the adult, mature, haughty Severus could be so infantile when it came to Harry Potter.

"Whatever the great Harry Potter wants, the great Harry Potter gets!" Snape mocked deprecatingly, but there was a hint of genuine bitterness in his voice. "And right now, the great Harry Potter doesn't want his godfather to be involved with a greasy bastard."

Sirius was floored. That was it? "You hate him because you think he's trying to separate us?"

"I resent him because I think he will." Snape's voice was weary.

"You think he will persuade me to leave you?" Wasn't that something. "Don't you think I have a say in the matter?"

"Of course you do. But I can't possibly resent you, so I take it out on him instead," Snape explained patiently. Impenetrable Snape logic. Sirius didn't know what to say to that.

"You've got to be kidding," he managed finally.

"Of course, I don't 'hate' him," Snape explained tiredly. "But I got used to getting back at people with words rather than deeds. It helps me vent off frustration and is quite an amusing hobby."

"I understand you like verbal sparring, but... there's viciousness in it when it comes to Harry."

"Potter is just an easy target because he takes everything so seriously. I treat you in much the same way, mind you, and you don't seem to suffer horribly because of it."

"Harry is different."

"Yes. Of course."

Sirius had to laugh at the biting sarcasm in Snape's voice. "All right, all right. I just wish you stopped provoking him constantly, that's all. I'm not trying to deprive you of your favourite pastime."

"Black, you have to realise the animosity lies mostly on Potter's part," Snape said seriously. "He has disliked me since his first day of classes with me. He doesn't like me, and he makes it very clear. I'm not going to ignore that."

"Therefore you made it your quest to give him grounds to dislike you? That's very mature," Sirius said sardonically.

"Actually, what's most frustrating is that I could really like him," Snape admitted unexpectedly. "I just don't want to. I've never wanted to be a member of the fawning fan club, thank you very much. That's why I have to watch myself around him, because let's face it, he's a likeable person. He exudes some kind of natural glamour, much like Dumbledore does. And like you did, once."

Sirius digested it quietly for a while, carefully sorting through the veils and covers that Snape wrapped around the meaning of his words. Was he hearing things, or was Severus really admitting that he felt hurt by the fact that "the great" Harry Potter didn't like him? He decided the matter needed further prodding.

"So make him like you. Use that notorious Slytherin cunning to make him see your charm," he suggested innocently.

Snape snorted and shook his head. "Wheedle my way into his favours? Wasn't that what he scorned me for tonight?"

"Who's talking about wheedling? Manipulate him into liking you! Twist him around your little finger!"

"I do rather get the impression you are trying to manipulate me into getting along with your godson."

"Mhm. How am I doing?"

"You need a lot of practice..." Snape smirked with such an air of superiority that Sirius could only laugh and shake his head in defeat.

~o~

He made a point of continuing his strolls in human form in the following weeks. He still tired quickly as a man, but the overwhelming, numbing exhaustion of the past months was disappearing. He mentioned that to Severus, who was monitoring his progress closely and noting his observations in the brown book he had started for documenting Sirius' reactions to the potion. He was thorough and systematic in his research. The book was already half-filled with daily pulse and temperature measurements, body weight diagrams--every weekend, Sirius patiently let Snape cast weighing charms on him--and mood evaluations. Recently, there seemed to be noticeably fewer entries of 'fuming,' 'melancholic,' and 'whiny,' and more of 'contented' and 'calm'.

Severus made him evaluate his own progress one day--it had been three months since he had started taking the healing potion. Sirius felt at a loss of what to say at first. For all his improvement, he didn't feel strikingly different. There were still days full of bleak, suffocating hopelessness, and nights he spent unsleeping and afraid of the future. On the other hand, these were less and less frequent, and living as a human seemed less like an unpleasant obligation now. He felt energy surging through him at times; he felt the need to laugh, read, clean the dungeons, go out and meet with Harry and Remus, or just walk through the forests and breathe deeply. Breathing felt easier now. His lungs filled of their own accord, instead of closing up just below his throat.

He summed up his observations as best as he could. Snape scribbled it all down neatly and put the book back on the shelf.

"You eat better, too," he noticed. "Although you are still scrawny."

Sirius only huffed at that. He didn't want to sound ungrateful, so he allowed the daily research with good grace. But in his heart, he attributed his awakening to the coming spring, and to the fact that after the years of loneliness he was finally able to share his life with someone.

The spring was making a definite difference to his mood. Days were longer and filled with sunshine; there were daisies, marsh marigolds and wild daffodils in the woods; the air was fresh and fragrant. It felt as if life was coming back to the world, and into his very soul. Whether it was the potion or the sun--he was getting better.

*

Chapter 9

Easter came and went uneventfully.

Much to Harry's disappointment, they had to cancel their trip to the countryside. After the auspicious beginning of the spring, the weather became atrocious. Drenching, cold rains or icy sleet discouraged them from venturing outside. As a result, Sirius had spent a weekend with Harry and Remus in front of their crackling fireplace.

He was actually somewhat relieved that he didn't have to face his Muggle family after twenty years of no contact. What was he supposed to say? 'I spent the whole time in prison as murderer though I wasn't guilty?' He didn't feel like admitting he'd been imprisoned at all. Guilty or not, it clung to you and dirtied you all the same.

Back in February, he had written a cautious letter to Derek, the cousin who had inherited the farm, inquiring about his health and not saying much about himself.

Derek had replied promptly, reporting that they were all right; that 'they' now meant him, his wife and his three children; that they thought cousin Stuart's youngest might be a witch; and giving dozens of other little facts that made Sirius feel a part of the family again. He hadn't asked questions about Sirius' past, apparently sensing that it was a touchy issue. In fact, Sirius reflected, Derek was probably the only member of his Muggle family to whom he would confide his past without feeling uncomfortable.

The ugly weather also had a more pleasant result: Sirius, not willing to go for long walks in his human form in such conditions, was spending most of his free time in the dungeon. Snape insisted that the confinement was making Sirius quirky, and took it upon himself to provide him with necessary stimulation.

Sirius was delighted by the changes in Severus. He seemed to be taking off his closed-off, forbidding and distant persona at the dungeon door now. He didn't shun casual touch, and Sirius no longer had to transform into a dog or demand to be washed to get some bodily comfort. They made love more often; to Sirius' surprise and sometimes exasperation, Snape turned out to find sex hilarious.

They spent more time laughing in bed than anywhere else, as if the large, ancient piece of furniture was another world where different rules were in force and where you could be a different person. As soon as they started treating sex less seriously, the initial problems with penetration and bad memories vanished into thin air. They found that they both liked it best side by side, with Sirius lying half atop Severus, and moving in languid, unhurried thrusts, or begging Severus to stop making him laugh because he was losing his rhythm. At other times, their lovemaking was quiet and intense, and they clung to each other afterwards, drawing comfort from the closeness until they fell asleep.

Severus didn't become any less sarcastic or cynical, but instead of resenting it, Sirius now found it humorous. He realised that their bickering might sound like vicious quarrel to the outside world. He also realised he wouldn't want it any other way. He couldn't imagine spending his life with someone patient, acquiescent and polite, or having to acquiesce to someone.

~o~

They had spent the last weekend of the spring break visiting Harry and Remus. Snape and Harry had to be separated to avoid nasty scenes; it was obvious that neither of them was willing to step down. As a result, Sirius had spent the evening talking with Harry, while Remus entertained Snape.

They had to get up early the next day. Sirius felt grouchy and became aware of a sentiment that lay buried at the bottom of his soul for more than twenty years: he didn't like Mondays. They ate breakfast quickly and in silence. Snape had to hurry to his classes. Sirius was badly needed in the Forbidden Forest; spring was the breeding season for many creatures and they were becoming aggressively territorial.

He missed dinner and came back home eleven hours later, once again exhausted, aching, covered in mud and bleeding from several bite wounds. One look at his lover convinced him that, unlikely as it sounded, Snape had had an even worse day. He was seething. "That woman is utterly impossible! She's failed seven students from my house. Seven! Do you hear that? And I am supposed to be the partial, unfair teacher!" He was pacing back and forth angrily.

"I'm guessing you mean McGonagall?" There was only one female teacher Severus detested so much.

"Of course I mean McGonagall! Seven of my Slytherins had to retake the last test she gave. And she still failed three of them!"

"I believe you don't fail someone at a test; they fail it," Sirius said tiredly, wiping mud off his face.

"Oh, she's doing it on purpose! She was positively gloating during the staff meeting today! The Hufflepuffs were doing just as poorly, but she let them pass! Three students! You should have seen her, smiling like the cat that got the canary."

"I'm sure you'll fail as many Gryffindors," Sirius comforted him somewhat distractedly.

"I can't!" There was a depth of frustration in Snape's voice. "I've already let them all pass. Well, I teach those children what they need to know, whether they like it or not! Even the biggest dunces will get out of my class knowing what they are supposed to know by the syllabus."

He stopped suddenly and looked at Sirius. There was a strange glint in his eyes.

"You wanted to earn your keep, Black."

"I did?"

"You will tutor those children. You'll give them proper teaching, and it'll show that hag who's going to laugh last."

"Tutor them? Are you kidding?" Sirius was close to panic. He was supposed to teach? Alone against a bunch of Slytherins!

"No, I am not kidding. You told me yourself there are different approaches to teaching Transfiguration. Let's try yours."

Sirius thought about it for a while, peeling off the wet robes. "All right," he said finally. "I'll do it. But you have to promise you'll try to be nicer to Harry. For a week," he qualified hurriedly, seeing Snape's expression.

"Blackmail? Why, Black, I'm proud of you." Snape was smirking. "I can agree to that. One week."

"Yes. And no, it doesn't mean you can avoid seeing Harry for a week! I'll try to teach those kids of yours, but I can't promise there'll be results. I might not be able to help them at all."

"Just give it a try. Show them Transfiguration is not something inexplicable and overwhelming. You can do that. And," Snape looked thoughtful, "it'll be an excellent occasion for you to interact with people. You will like it, you'll see."

~o~

And so the next Thursday, Sirius had his first lessons with the three Slytherins.

Severus had procured an empty classroom for the tutoring--a disused, draughty, large room with bare walls and rows of squeaking, dusty, wooden tables. Sirius noticed with trepidation that his three students were already there, sitting as close to the door and as far from the blackboard as possible. Instead of climbing the pulpit, he took a chair and sat in the aisle, facing the two boys and a girl. They stared at him.

"Let us introduce ourselves first," Sirius said awkwardly. He swept his hair back to cover his embarrassment and smiled at his students with some effort. "My name is Sirius Black." It felt strange to be announcing his identity so brashly after years of hiding behind a parade of false names.

"Please tell me your names, which year you are in, and what kind of problems you have." He pointed to the youngest pupil, a small, sulking girl glaring at him with the air of a duchess made to suffer the presence of her inferior. She had pale yellow hair, a pale, plump, sallow face and pale green, bulging, gooseberry eyes that provoked thoughts of house-elf blood happening somewhere along her undoubtedly impressive lineage.

"Narine LeMarchant," she said, still scowling. Sirius wondered how long it would be before she became cross-eyed.

"First year, I guess?"

Narine nodded. When she volunteered no more information, Sirius sighed and looked at the next student. He had to forcibly remind himself not to stare at the child's unusual appearance, similar to that of some Muggles he had seen during his years as a fugitive. The boy had silver studs piercing his eyebrow and left nostril. He wore black eyeliner and black lipstick. Multiple rings decorated his fingers, and his fingernails had been inexpertly painted black. Sirius had no idea the fashion had become popular among wizarding children.

Noticing that the boy looked at him challengingly, Sirius gave what he hoped was a benevolent smile and asked for the child's name.

"Forrest Green, with double 'r' in Forrest," the boy supplied readily. "Third year."

Narine cackled unexpectedly. "His name is Eustace," she drawled.

"No, it's not! I can choose my own name, LeMarchant, I'm not a pet!"

"And he's a Mudblood," Narine continued with malicious glee.

Forrest, or possibly Eustace, flushed red and raised his chin arrogantly. "I'm Muggle-born. So was Voldemort!" he finished defiantly.

"Idiot," the third of Sirius' students said, shaking his head with disgust.

"He was not! " Narine yelled. "Only a stupid Muggle would say that!"

"Yes he was! And he still turned out to be the most powerful wizard in the world!"

"Will you both shut up?" the third kid mumbled, gesturing his head towards Sirius.

Narine and Forrest fell silent, and all three students looked at Sirius expectantly. With an inner groan, he realised he was being tested. Should he berate them for speaking of Voldemort? Gloss over the argument and move on? Rectify their assumptions?

"Technically, Voldemort--Tom Riddle--wasn't Muggle-born," Sirius said tiredly. Narine scowled triumphantly at Forrest. "But he wasn't a pure-blood either," he continued. "Riddle's father was a Muggle, but his mother was a witch. Don't you pay attention during history lessons?"

"We don't talk about it in classes!" Forrest said disdainfully. "It's forbidden!"

"If you are fascinated with Tom Riddle and want to know more about him, I suggest you ask Professor Snape," Sirius said, wondering whether Severus would thank him for it. "His knowledge of recent history is quite extensive."

At the mention of Snape's name, all three children paled. Forrest gulped with difficulty and said, "Er... No, thank you. I'm not that interested in Voldemort. Really. And I don't think he was a great wizard at all," he added hastily.

Irritated at what he mentally dubbed Slytherin conformism, Sirius said sharply, "He was. Tom Riddle, or Voldemort if you prefer, was a very powerful wizard. Too bad he hadn't managed to overcome his insecurities after he came to Hogwarts--you do know that he was raised by Muggles, don't you?" The children, who were listening with rapt interest, shook their heads in denial. "Riddle was abandoned by his Muggle father. When his mother died, he was raised in an orphanage. He was afraid of Muggles and he hated them. This feeling later turned into an obsession that blinded Tom Riddle to reason, and finally led to a war in which more wizards have died than Muggles."

He was simplifying the matters, trying to keep the story short and accessible even to the youngest, Narine. "So I'd suggest that you learn from Voldemort's mistakes, and that you try to find out more about the things you were told to hate or be afraid of. You should try to make your own mind about them and decide whether they are worth all that hatred or fear," he finished lamely. Edifying speeches were not his strong side.

"Like Dark Arts?" Forrest immediately arrived at his own conclusion.

"Like Mudblood Slytherins?" Narine asked with a nasty smirk.

"I'm not offended, you little inbred house-elf," Forrest countered loftily. "You aren't worth my hatred."

"Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood!"

"Children!" Sirius snapped. "Enough of this." He was trying to suppress a growl.

Surprisingly, Narine and Forrest seemed cowed. Sirius turned to the last student who hadn't had the chance to introduce himself yet and asked him for his name.

"Maximillian McIvor. Sixth year," the boy answered in a listless voice. He seemed bored. "Don't mind those two, Sir, they're just trying to get attention, poor souls."

"What about you?" Sirius was amused by Maximillian's patronising attitude towards the other children.

"He's a disgrace to his name," Forrest piped in helpfully.

"Quite true," Maximillian agreed. "I am also indolent and slothful. And before you ask, no, I don't have any ambition at all."

"A Slytherin without ambition? That's a novelty," Sirius smiled.

"Yes, quite. I used to be a sensation until he came along," Maximillian said wryly, gesturing towards Forrest. "Sic transit gloria mundi."

"What did you say?" Forrest inquired, frowning suspiciously. "Sir, what did he say about me?" Maximillian just rolled his eyes and didn't seem inclined to explain himself.

"He wasn't referring to you, Forrest. He simply said that his fame has faded quickly," Sirius said, wondering whether he should petrify them to actually start the lesson.

"Now, let's get to the point. You are here because you have trouble with Transfigurations. Before I can help you I need to know exactly what problems you have. Take out your wands and let's try to transfigure these buttons into chopsticks." He gave a handful of wooden buttons to each of his students. "It's probably too easy for you, Maximillian, so I want you to transfigure yours into butterflies. You have as much time as you need..."

By the end of the lesson, Sirius was covered in cold sweat and exhausted.

Narine put so much angry energy into her transfigurations that she succeeded in blowing up her buttons and a good part of her desk into splinters. Sirius barely managed to cast a shielding charm in time to protect Forrest and Maximillian from flying wood. Teaching, he thought grumpily, required battle-honed reflexes. Forrest was cheating in every way humanly possible, trying to mask his ineffective transfigurations by additional charms and glamours. Sirius shuddered to think what McGonagall would do if she caught him doing that in her classroom. Maximillian proved to be helplessly behind in his reading and exercises; it seemed that he needed to make up for six years of not learning anything.

Sirius talked them through the steps necessary to transfigure the buttons, demonstrating several different ways to achieve the same result. Eventually, both boys caught on and were able to produce a range of chopsticks and very wooden-looking butterflies. Narine still blew up everything she pointed her wand at. When they ran out of buttons for her, Sirius decided to call it a day.

~o~

"How did it go?"

Sirius groaned in response, falling into his armchair and squeezing the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how you do it: weeks and weeks, with so many of them. I'm exhausted after two hours with just three kids," he said indistinctly.

"Yelling helps," Snape supplied obligingly. "Also hissing, growling and threatening. Being nasty is fun, too."

"You obviously were born for this, Severus. It's a battlefield! Only you are on your own, and the enemy outnumbers you greatly. And you can't kill them."

"Unfortunately, that's frowned upon," agreed Snape. "I'll brew you some Feverfew, it'll help ease the headache."

"Thank you." Sirius stretched, popping his joints. "So, you have Muggle-borns in Slytherin now? How did that happen?"

"We also have Mister McIvor," Severus said sourly. "Personally, I don't know what's worse."

"I've always wondered how the Sorting Hat works, exactly. To sort someone into Slytherin when they have no ambition? Unless he cunningly hides his motives, of course," Sirius said. You never knew with the Slytherins.

"The Sorting Hat!" Snape snorted. "The Sorting Hat is a showy scam, but it's tradition. The children sort themselves, Sirius. They mostly go to the house where their parents and siblings went, or where their friends from the Hogwarts Express have just been sorted. Otherwise a third of the Weasleys would have been in Slytherin, and thank Merlin that didn't happen."

Warmed at being called by his name, Sirius agreed. "Ron and Percy seemed to have plenty of ambition, that's true. But it still doesn't explain Maximillian. Why would he want to go to the house of cunning and ambition, if that's so contrary to his attitude?"

"Can you imagine McIvor appreciating Hufflepuff hard work, or Ravenclaw pursuit of knowledge? Or Gryffindor noble struggles?" Snape asked bitingly. "To tell the truth, I imagine the boy was told by his parents he should be a Slytherin, so there he went. No mystery about it. I just hope he graduates with the rest of his year; if I hear his father lecturing about the deplorable state of Hogwarts' education one more time, I swear I'll poison that old goat."

"The kid seems intelligent, or at least definitely not stupid. Perhaps he needs a motivation to study."

"I'll give him motivation!" Snape growled. "If he gives you any trouble just mention I'll be assigning detentions for those who misbehave in your class. How did it go with LeMarchant?"

Sirius sighed. "Not good. If this child had been born five hundred years ago, I swear she would have been a hag. I almost lost an eye today." He recounted Narine's Transfigurations failures briefly. "Forrest should manage without problems once he reviews, though."

"Who?" Snape frowned in surprise.

"Er, Eustace? Green. He wants to be called Forrest. The kid wearing black eyeliner and lipstick? And silver piercings?"

"Forrest, indeed!" Snape looked furious. "He came to class wearing that? Unbelievable. Why didn't you throw him out?"

"I didn't know he wasn't supposed to be wearing makeup," Sirius admitted sheepishly. "So many rules have changed at Hogwarts. I thought maybe the dress code had been relaxed as well. And anyway, it's his free time, technically," he added placatingly. "Let him wear what he wants."

"If you give them a finger they'll chew off your arm," Snape warned.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that," Sirius agreed tiredly. "Listen, am I supposed to talk about Riddle if they ask? I don't want to cause you any trouble with the Ministry."

Snape twisted his lips with distaste. "The official policy regarding education on recent history hasn't been approved yet. Most feel it's safer to shush the children. You can tell them to come to me with their questions, that should shut them up." He got up and brought Sirius the brew that had been left to steep in a teakettle, adding some honey to mitigate the bitterness.

"That's what I did." Sirius grinned. "Actually, I was surprised at how compliant they were. I was afraid I'd have to hex them to get them to follow instructions." He sipped the Feverfew gratefully.

Snape looked conceited. "I can get my house to behave, I believe."

"We are going to see Harry tomorrow. You have a debt to pay," Sirius said darkly. "And after what I've been through today I think limiting your sentence to a week was hasty."

~o~

Unfortunately, they didn't manage to visit Harry until the next Saturday. Sirius had to spend long hours in the Forbidden Forest, and Snape was busy grading papers. Up to his ears in rolls of parchment, he was so cross and disagreeable that Sirius preferred to steer clear of him.

He concentrated on his own classes, trying to find reading material that would interest Maximillian and pondering ways to convince Narine to actually start learning. His subsequent classes, on Wednesday and Friday, went smoothly. He was growing more comfortable with his students and wasn't afraid to growl at them now and then to get them to behave. The boys did the reading he assigned them, and were going through subsequent exercises with minimum stumbling, although they still needed coaching at every step. On Wednesday, Forrest appeared without his jingling metal collection and with a clean face. He was sulking.

"Is it still Forrest?" Sirius asked seriously. "Or should I address you as Mr. Green?"

"It is Forrest, Sir," the boy replied, regarding Sirius favourably. "They can't take my name from me," he added mutinously. Narine sniggered, and Maximillian rolled his eyes.

*

Chapter 10

The word of Sirius' tutoring had spread. Arriving for his fourth class, he was surprised to find two more students: a Ravenclaw Sixth-Year and a very frightened and small Hufflepuff. The Ravenclaw girl explained that she intended to offer tutoring next year, and wanted to learn by observing him. Sirius felt self-conscious under her cold stare, but couldn't think of a way to say no. He delegated her to coach Forrest and Maximillian through their respective assignments, and focused on Narine.

Narine was turning out to be a problem. She still unfailingly exploded everything she was told to transfigure, and Sirius was at a loss. It was obvious the girl was enjoying the negative attention and did her best to get more of it. She wasn't going to make any progress.

Finally defeated, he threw all thoughts of pedagogical excellence to the winds and resorted to the Marauder approach. He took the girl aside and whispered conspiratorially,

"Narine, if you do your exercises properly I'll teach you a spell to turn people's hair pink."

Narine's eyes lighted. "And green," she bargained urgently.

"Deal." He'd have to teach the boys how to remove the charm, he thought guiltily, turning his attention to the little Hufflepuff boy who came for help with his homework.

~o~

Snape gracelessly allowed himself to be convinced that his being nice to Harry should extend to the next week, since he had no contact with Potter in the previous one. Sirius had sent the owls, and on Saturday morning they Apparated to his friends' house. "Hello, Harry. It's nice to see you," Snape said jovially.

Harry stared at him with keen suspicion. "Hello, Professor," he answered cautiously.

"Oh, no need for formalities. Please, call me Severus." Snape was obviously entertained by Harry's discomfort. "I've brought you the list of ingredients I use for Sirius' potion. If it might interest you, I could explain their individual functions after we have breakfast."

While they ate at the huge kitchen table, Snape complimented Harry's culinary skills, his choice of kitchen decorations, and his robes. Harry was stunned and wide-eyed. Sirius was gritting his teeth. Remus was biting his lips trying not to laugh. When they moved to the living room to discuss the potion, he excused himself, claiming he needed fresh air.

Harry retrieved a pen and parchment to make notes. He threw himself into his favourite armchair and winced, squirming uncomfortably.

"Something wrong?" Sirius asked, frowning.

Harry gave him an embarrassed grin. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just a bit sore from last night... "

"I don't want to know!" Sirius protested quickly, a touch of hysteria in his voice, before Harry could go into any further details.

"Penetration problems, Harry? I could procure you a very effective Lubricus potion," Snape proffered helpfully, glancing at Sirius with a malicious glint in his eye. "The results are most pleasurable, Sirius can testify to that."

Sirius fled.

~o~

He got out to the porch and found Remus sitting on a bench, staring calmly into space. Sirius flopped down heavily beside him.

"What?" Remus asked with a small smile.

"They are talking about sex. Specifically, sex between Harry and you. My godson is discussing the pleasures of anal sex with my lover and I don't want to witness that," Sirius muttered plaintively and hid his head in his hands.

Remus smothered a snicker, then asked, "Are you still angry about it?"

"You know I'm not. Just... It's worse than catching your parents doing that."

"You'll get used to it..."

"I'll have to, with the three of you around," Sirius said acerbically. "You are careful, aren't you?" he added in a serious tone.

"I didn't do anything that could have hurt him last night, if that's what you're asking." Remus was obviously taking effort not to be offended.

"No, Moony, that's not what I meant. I don't doubt your skill. I meant... lycanthropy." He could see Remus stiffen. "Could an accidental bite from you curse him?" He never cared about it when they were at school but it seemed like an obvious possibility.

"Yes," Remus said with effort. "We are both taking the Wolfsbane potion regularly now. Severus believes... There is no way to be sure, but he believes its wild magic-suppressing components should protect Harry. And the probability of transmitting the curse while I'm in human form is extremely low."

Sirius squeezed Remus' shoulder in wordless sympathy.

"I'm doing my best to take every precaution possible," Remus continued determinedly. "I tried to convince Harry I should always be on my stomach when we fuck--"

"Oh, snakes, Moony!" He smacked Remus lightly upside the head, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Thank you for the image. That's exactly what I did not want to hear!"

Remus grinned weakly. "All right, all right. Let's just say Harry wasn't happy about the suggestion. He says he is prepared to take the risk. And I will do everything in my power to protect him."

"You do have a lot of practice in self-restraint," Sirius observed after a brief silence. "I don't believe I've ever seen you without that mild-mannered mask, Moony." It was doubly difficult to imagine Remus impassioned, losing himself in an experience.

"I used to feel guilty," Remus explained quietly, looking into distance again. "Because I was so afraid to allow any emotions to enter my mind, I could only feel so strongly when I was transformed. I used to feel guilty for wanting to be the beast. Hunger, wrath, want, freedom, lust... I could remember them all when I woke up, and I did my best to avoid them in my human form. Wolfsbane dampens the emotional surges while I'm transformed, and I don't associate intense feelings with the beast anymore. But I got too used to filtering what I feel before I allow it to come to the surface to change it all. The sense of balance is a comfort to me."

"Sense of balance, my arse. You just like the feeling of superiority your noble detachment gives you," Sirius joked.

Remus laughed in response. "James once said to me that a good row would help remove that broomstick I perpetually carried up my bum."

"James said that?"

"We were having an argument. The poor boy was very angry," Remus said loftily, affecting a patronising attitude.

"Right. Like one could have an argument with you. Fighting with you was like banging one's head on a wall."

"It drove you crazy, didn't it?"

"Why are you laughing like loonies?" Harry asked suspiciously, sticking his head through the door.

~o~

"Potter isn't stupid," Snape observed on their way home, in a tone of pleased discovery. "I'm going to teach him how to make the Wolfsbane potion next weekend."

"All these years of teaching him and you never noticed he was intelligent?" Sirius asked wryly.

"He wasn't a bad student, but terribly unfocused, like all Gryffindors. He never displayed any interest in making potions before," Snape explained. Evidently, 'not stupid' equalled 'interested in Potions'.

"Are you sure he's prepared to make the potion himself, without your supervision? I'd rather you still prepared their monthly batch..."

"Oh, I'm going to. But it wouldn't hurt if he knew how to make it, in case of emergency. He's already learning how to make the potion for you."

"What, did you disclose the Secret of the Mysterious Weevil?" Sirius asked with mock-astonishment. "I thought it was supposed to be strictly confidential."

"It is." Snape twisted his lips. "I explained that to Potter and he promised to keep it to himself. I was reluctant to share the formula, but we need contingency planning. If something happened to me, you and Lupin would be left without your potions. They should be prepared by a healthy wizard for maximum effectiveness."

Sirius sneaked his arm around Snape's hip and drew him closer. "Nothing is going to happen to you. And isn't it the high time you patented and marketed my potion? I can't think of a better contingency plan than that."

Snape didn't answer, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Will the Wolfsbane potion protect Harry from the curse?" Sirius asked after a moment. "Remus said you weren't sure."

"There is no way to be sure unless you test it," Snape shrugged. "And exposing a human to a Dark Creature to test a potion would land me in Azkaban quicker than an Unforgivable. I was thinking about transfiguring an animal into human form and testing the potion on it, but after what you said about the blood staying the same after transfiguration I don't think it'd do any good."

"Definitely not," Sirius agreed. "Plain Transfiguration changes shape, not species. Are Muggles affected by a werewolf bite the same way wizards are?"

Snape's eyebrows crept up. "You can't be suggesting I used Muggles for testing."

"No, of course not!" Sirius was scandalised. "I just thought I might be able to transmute an animal into a humanoid if innate magic wasn't an issue. It'd require extensive research, of course, and the transmutation wouldn't be full, it'd only occur on physiological level... I'll think about it. There are some Muggle physiology studies I'd have to look through."

"It'd be definitely worthwhile if you could develop a methodology for acquiring test subjects with human physiology," Snape admitted. "But it wouldn't completely replace actual tests on wizards. There would still be too many variables and uncertainties. We wouldn't know whether a potion blocking a curse in an artificial humanoid would behave the same way in a natural Muggle, not to mention a wizard."

"Then perhaps you should look for people who have been bitten only recently and need all the help they can get."

"I'm not sure Wolfsbane would do any good if administered after the curse had been bestowed. And with lycanthropy being so rare these days, chances of finding anyone are low."

"Nevertheless, you should publish your findings to spread the information," Sirius insisted stubbornly.

"I haven't completed apprenticeship--I don't have any academic support," Snape explained, shrugging. "Revolutionary findings from a compromised schoolteacher--all the fat scholars would laugh so hard their bowels would burst."

"All the more reason to publish," Sirius pointed out. "Apart from thinning out the competition by means of auto-induced intestinal explosions, you'd gain some recognition in the academic circles. Notoriety at first, yes, but when they try to refute your claims they will find out there's merit to them."

"Want to have a famous boyfriend, Black?" Snape quipped. "Stop nagging. I'll publish when I'm ready."

"As long as it's within the next eighty years..." Sirius acquiesced good-naturedly.

~o~

After much thinking, Sirius decided to explain to Derek exactly what had happened and ask for his advice. Derek already knew about the existence of the Wizarding world; the more distant relatives, though, had to be given an edited version.

Derek's reply came almost immediately, delivered by Muggle mail to Harry and then owled to Hogwarts.

'I told everybody you had been mistakenly arrested, that you are cleared now, and that it's all confidential so you can't speak of it. When you have a break, come to us, or meet me in London if you prefer--I want to see for myself that you are all right. Christ, Sirius, we thought you were dead! And then when we saw on the news that they were looking for you and calling you a dangerous murderer, we didn't know what was going on.

About the other thing... I didn't tell them you were gay. I'm not sure what to say. Of course I knew; I remember you used to talk to Grandpa about it. You weren't exactly shy about it then. It's not like I disapprove or anything, and it's not like you are the first in this family. Or the last. But let's talk about it in person. I'd like to meet this man of yours, too.

I understand it's busy now for you, and I'm buried in work myself. How about visiting for the first week of July? Bring Harry Potter, of course, and that other friend of yours--Remington? Remigius? The quiet one.'

Sirius was shocked; he had completely forgotten that the Muggle police had been alerted after his escape. He wondered briefly if the search for him was ever called off; if not, it was another thing he had to resolve with the Ministry before he started going out into Muggle London.

Severus had read the letter, and spent the entire evening sniggering about 'Remington'.

~o~

As his classes progressed, Sirius found tutoring to be more and more enjoyable. Snape was right--the chance to go out, talk to people, focus on something beyond his own recuperation, was making him feel much better. His world didn't revolve solely around Severus, Remus and Harry anymore. He had grown to like his students, and found that being able to help them learn was profoundly gratifying.

Narine, lured by the promise of being shown an 'illegal' spell, put her heart into studying and was soon able to complete the most basic exercises. Sirius taught her the hair-colouring trick and she practised it happily without realising she was learning more Transfigurations in the process. He felt proud when she managed to turn Forrest's robe pink without being explicitly shown how to, and when Forrest quickly found out how to change it back to the basic black. Even Maximillian had apparently decided that having to spend an extra year in school would be too much hassle and mustered some energy to study.

~o~

One May Monday, Sirius received a surprise inspection.

His students were toiling at their respective assignments, and Sirius was discussing the finer points of Argonne's anti-resonance principle in relation to supercondensing highly magical fluids with his Ravenclaw 'assistant' Amanda Blair. Amanda had solid theoretical knowledge, even if she lacked practical skills, and Sirius found their more advanced discussion refreshing.

Just then, the door to the classroom opened and Professor McGonagall came in, herding a small group of Gryffindors in front of her.

Sirius froze in mid-word and had to cover it by clearing his throat loudly. "Hello, Professor," he croaked.

"Mister Black." She was smiling at him radiantly. "I see the rumours of secret Slytherin tutoring classes are indeed true."

"Severus asked me to tutor some students who fell behind in their studying," Sirius explained carefully. He hoped she wasn't offended. Why hadn't he asked Snape what she would think about him teaching her students?

"And the class is open to students from all houses, so it's hardly 'Slytherin' tutoring," added Miss Blair, pointing to Tommy Grier, the tiny First-Year Hufflepuff who had got into the habit of coming to Sirius' classes to do his Transfigurations homework.

"I see. That's excellent, because I've brought some more students for you, Mr. Black," McGonagall said with a glint of humour in her eyes. "They will undoubtedly fail their next Transfigurations exam unless they improve greatly," she turned to glare sternly at the embarrassed Gryffindors. "I would like to make similar arrangements as Professor Snape had, and ask you to tutor students from my house."

Sirius' lips twitched with restrained laughter. Similar arrangements? What could he blackmail McGonagall with?

"Let's step outside for a moment," he suggested.

Closing the classroom door behind him, he said, "Professor McGonagall, I'm sorry I haven't discussed the tutoring with you. Severus asked me to supervise three students while they studied for their make-up exams. I wasn't trying to disrupt your syllabus..."

McGonagall was shaking her head, still smiling at him. "Sirius, my dear, I'm thoroughly grateful for what you did. And please, stop calling me McGonagall. Minerva is just fine."

"Minerva," Sirius smiled. "I was afraid I might have offended you."

"By no means. We can't afford to devote extra time to individual students right now, even to those who want to learn. Your help is greatly appreciated. If it weren't for you, I would have had to give up my free Sunday afternoons to work with them. I didn't mind Severus organising private classes for his 'special cases', and I wouldn't have interfered--but LeMarchant's progress has been so unexpected I had to find out who was teaching her. I should have known it must have been you! It's good to see my brightest student come back to Hogwarts." She laughed a little at Sirius' embarrassed blush.

"You didn't know I was staying with Severus?" It was a bit of a shock to realise that avoiding being noticed had become such an integral part of his behaviour that he didn't even control it anymore.

"I'm not on the best of terms with Mr. Snape," Minerva observed with wry humour. "I thought I'd seen you once or twice on the school grounds but I wasn't sure."

"I need Severus' potion-making skills, so I'm living in his quarters temporarily," he said vaguely. "Since I'm basically on Hogwarts' keep, my time is at the school's disposal. I'll be glad to help your students if I can."

Minerva accepted his oblique explanations without comment, but a shadow of worry passed through her eyes.

"You shouldn't have much trouble, except possibly with Brawnes," she said. "He is blocked in some way. You'll have to watch him carefully to find out why. The others just need to catch up. You have my authority to assign detentions if necessary, although if you managed to tame Miss LeMarchant I doubt you'll have any problems with discipline."

"Oh, I had to resort to bribery with Narine," he laughed. "But on the whole, they were all amazingly well-behaved. I'm surprised. Severus has done a good job with his students."

"Let's hope mine won't ruin your opinion of me," Minerva joked. "Are you sure you have no other obligations? No work to come back to?" She was regarding him speculatively. Sirius squirmed under her penetrating gaze.

"None at all," he said a bit too sharply, and regretted his tone immediately. "I haven't been employed since the war," he added to mollify the bluntness of his remark.

"I see..." Minerva was still looking at him with a strange expression on her face. "Oh, well. Don't let me detain you. You have a class to teach. Good luck, Sirius!"

*

Chapter 11

Severus found it highly amusing that McGonagall had to ask Sirius for help with her own students. He seemed to regard Sirius as his weapon against the Transfigurations teacher, and was gleeful that his machinations had succeeded.

At first, Snape took careful effort to behave towards Harry in the most conspicuously polite way he could manage; Sirius thought it might have been his way of ensuring Sirius' co-operation in regard to the tutoring. Sirius had had to ask Harry to behave like a gentleman towards Snape, even if Snape were to be insufferable. Harry had agreed, though reluctantly.

After a while though, the relationship between the two became less stilted and started approaching normalcy. They not only could be left alone in a room without maiming each other, but actually engaged in a more or less civilised conversation.

It seemed, Sirius thought, that they might become family after all.

~o~

The new students proved to be a challenge in more than one way. With the appearance of Gryffindors, the Slytherins had ganged together and fought uncompromising war on the opposing house. The Gryffindors didn't hesitate to reciprocate. No lesson passed without whispered jibes, covert taunts, name-calling and general nastiness.

Sirius, mindful of Severus' advice, snapped, barked, growled and threatened with detention, but any peace he managed to restore was only temporary. To his surprise, he had no trouble staying objective, instead of supporting his old house. Often, the Gryffindors' comments grated on his nerves more than the Slytherin malevolence.

Tom Thwaithe, an impetuous, hot-headed loudmouth from the Seventh year, reminded Sirius of himself at that age. Tom was the leader of their little group, and he was the student most often thrown out of classroom.

Caden Brawnes' behaviour was almost impeccable, but he was failing miserably in his exercises. Although he very obviously studied and tried, he wasn't able to complete any of the standard Second-Year assignments. It took Sirius almost two weeks of forcing the boy to try again and again and watching him closely to find out that Caden had trouble dissociating the verbal component from the spells he had to use. Sirius made him split his Transfiguration assignment into individual charms and utter the incantation for each as he worked, to the gales of mirth from the Slytherin side of the classroom.

But it was the third Gryffindor, a grim, dispirited Fifth-year called Nathan Stevenson, that finally made Sirius explode.

The scene started with Narine making some disparaging comment towards Gryffindors, and quickly escalated out of control. Tom sneered at the Slytherins lowering their standards lamentably with the admission of house-elves. Forrest observed quite loudly that it couldn't be said about Gryffindodos, because you had to have some standards in the first place to be able to lower them.

"Be quiet," Sirius admonished, trying to get them to do their homework. In vain.

"No wonder they are Purebloods," Nathan addressed the ceiling. "Who'd want to have children with something like that? But all that inbreeding had to produce some spectacular failures," he motioned his head towards Maximillian. "Hopefully more and more of them will be sterile."

"I can understand why your parents stopped trying after they had you," Maximillian said with sympathy.

"Boys! Get back to work." They didn't even hear him.

"Oh, is that why you are the only child? Or is it because your father couldn't get it up anymore?" Tom sniggered.

"You are really charming when you try so hard to be witty, did you know that? Amusingly pathetic. You'd made cute pets, you and Stevenson," Maximillian drawled lazily.

"You wouldn't find it so amusing if you were sent where you belong, McIvor," Nathan snapped.

"And where do I belong, my dear child?"

Sirius tried to get their attention, without success. Both boys were serious now, far beyond their normal taunts. Maximillian was grimacing scornfully, Nathan's eyes glittered with unrestrained anger.

"What I don't understand," he said vehemently, "is why you were allowed to stay at large after we won the war!"

"Allowed? You should abandon your delusions of grandeur, Stevenson. If it weren't for us, you all would be singing all hail Lord Voldemort, and licking his boots."

"Boys--"

"There wouldn't even be a war if it wasn't for you! You are vermin." Nathan was spitting the words with cold derision, meaning every one of them. "A disease of the wizarding world. The only reason you aren't in Azkaban is because even Dementors can't stand you! You should all be offed! Normal people should kill you for sport! I would--"

"SILENCE!" Sirius roared deafeningly, his temper flaring. "Stevenson, get out of the classroom. NOW! NOT A WORD!" He was growling and baring his teeth.

The children stared at him in shock. Even Maximillian sat up from his perpetual slouch, pale-faced. Nathan jumped out of his bench and ran to the door, banging them closed after he left.

Sirius' fury subsided after the short outburst but he still felt angry, both at himself and at the boys.

"If I hear anybody, ANYBODY else make a comment like that in my classroom, about any House, you'll be seriously sorry," he ground out. "UNDERSTOOD?"

They all nodded quickly. Amanda was staring at him in amazement.

"Please, Sir, there's no need to be angry with him," Maximillian said hesitantly. "He's really disturbed. His... his parents were killed in front of him during the war... I shouldn't have argued with him at all."

"I'm glad you were able to discern that much all by yourself," Sirius barked angrily, glaring at the boy. "Get to work, everybody. I want to see your exercises completed by the time I'm back. Watch them, Amanda." He stormed out of the classroom in long strides.

~o~

Nathan stood in the hall, tense, fists clenched. His pale face was blotched with angry red stains. He glared at Sirius with such intensity that for a moment Sirius thought the boy was going to hit him.

"I hate them... Hate them all! Fucking snakes--! They should all be killed. Every one of the fucking Slytherins should be wiped out from the face of Earth..." Nathan was shaking, gritting out the words in a hoarse voice. "I wish I could curse them myself... Give them a taste of their own medicine! Azkaban is too good for those fuckers." He was trying not to cry, but dry sobs were escaping his chest.

"No, it's not," Sirius said quietly. "Azkaban is unimaginably cruel. If anything should be wiped from the face of Earth, it is that place."

"I don't understand why you are siding with them! You were a Gryffindor," Nathan choked out.

"Perhaps because the Death Eater who caused the death of my best friend and his wife was a Gryffindor, too." Sirius rubbed his face tiredly. "The world isn't spelled out for you like that. Not all Slytherins are the bad guys. Not all Gryffindors are good. It's not that easy, Nathan."

The boy was crying openly now, rocking on his feet. "I s-- saw them. They were just like him, d-- drawling and snotty." He punctuated his words by loud sniffing. "They weren't much older than him, either. And t--they had sooo much fun. My father tried to reason with them but they wouldn't listen. They didn't kill him because they had to. They did it for fun! Because they could!

I started yelling at them and my, my Mum tried to shield me... She got the curse. It should have been me. She screamed and screamed, and then there was blood running from her eyes. It should have been me, they told me so, laughing. Left me there because I couldn't do anything and it was so amusing, and went on to have a drink, to celebrate some more. I couldn't do anything. Anything!"

"Come with me." Sirius took Nathan's elbow.

"I want them all to die," Nathan sobbed, but walked with Sirius without protest. On their way down Sirius stopped a student and asked him to get the Headmaster to the dungeon. Then he guided Nathan down to Snape's quarters and seated him down in a chair. Nathan wasn't crying anymore. He hid his face in his hands, shaking slightly.

"Severus, could you get Nathan some tea, please? I think he could use a calming potion, too."

"Why did you bring him here? You should have gone to the infirmary," Snape said grudgingly.

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey in a minute. Professor Dumbledore is on his way here. All I ask is that you talk to Nathan and decide whether he would benefit from your anti-grief potions. Please work with Pomfrey on that, Severus. Your knowledge of mind-balancing potions is more extensive than anyone's at Hogwarts or anywhere near."

A charm chimed and Albus Dumbledore rushed through the door. Noticing Nathan huddled in the chair, he furrowed his brow in concern and looked at Sirius questioningly.

"Was Nathan Stevenson one of the students you mentioned in relation to Severus' potion, Headmaster?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Yes, indeed. I've suspected he might need it very much." Dumbledore turned to put his hand on Snape's shoulder. "Will you help, Severus?"

Snape closed his eyes for a second. He looked defeated. "Of course," he said with resignation.

"He's going to need more than the potion, Headmaster," Sirius said. "Severus talked me through the most difficult days. I wouldn't have managed without his support. Nathan will need someone to do this for him."

"I'm sorry," Nathan said suddenly, his voice still rough after crying. "I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I didn't even mean a lot of things I said. I don't know why I lost it so badly."

"Believe me, I know what you're going through," Sirius said sympathetically. "I've been there myself not that long ago. Professor Snape has prepared a potion that helps keep such outbursts in check. He'll ask you several questions to find out whether you could use it. I want you to answer them, even if they seem very personal. Can you do that?"

When Nathan tentatively nodded in agreement, Sirius sent him to the bathroom to clean his face.

"Fetch Pomfrey," Snape told Sirius curtly. "I will not administer unregistered potions to an underage student without her explicit approval." He turned to Dumbledore. "I'll prepare a scroll with a list of questions for Stevenson. He'll feel more comfortable answering them in writing..."

Sirius closed the door behind him and strode briskly to the Infirmary.

"Ah, yes, Severus' mysterious patient," Poppy Pomfrey said when Sirius stuck his head through the door carefully. "Do come in. Say, could I have that bedpan back?" She smirked.

Sirius explained quickly where and why she was needed, and left for his classes, promising to stop by the next day for longer talk.

When he returned to his classroom, he found the students waiting for him, stiff and wide-eyed. The room was dead quiet, not a squeak disturbed the unnatural silence. They presented their results without looking him in the face. Sirius felt like a complete arsehole. He checked the assignments perfunctorily and dismissed them.

As they were preparing to leave, Thwaithe squared his shoulders determinedly and asked, "Please, Sir, what have you... er. What happened to Stevenson? Where is he?"

"Madam Pomfrey is taking care of him," Sirius replied shortly. He was irritated when the children paled and gasped collectively upon hearing his answer. Maximillian looked positively nauseated; Tommy Grier looked like he might cry.

"Mr. McIvor, please stay for a minute longer," Sirius added. When the rest of the students filtered out of the room, he sat down heavily and shook his head, perplexed.

Maximillian was regarding him anxiously, huddled in his chair. Sirius felt vexed.

"What? Why are you all looking at me like that? What did you think I did with Nathan, ate him?"

"We d-didn't--" Maximillian stuttered a bit and took a deep breath. "We didn't know what happened. We heard yelling, and then nothing..."

"Nathan was in bad shape, I took him to our quarters to let him calm down. He's lost too much, too soon, in a horrible way. His own despair and anger is hurting him more than anybody else, Maximillian. I'd like you to try to understand that."

"I know, Sir. I'm sorry. I should have stopped arguing with him when it got serious. I guess I lost patience. I know he in particular has his reasons to hate Slytherins, but sometimes putting up with all this undeserved condescension is too much... I forgot myself."

"I'm glad you understand that." Sirius was relieved he didn't have to launch a moralising speech. He felt tired. "Did I really scare you all that much? Weren't you ever yelled at in class?" He hoped he'd regain their trust somehow.

"Oh." Maximillian looked uneasy again. "Um. It's something Professor Snape said, when he told us we were going to have classes with you."

"What did he say?"

"Well, er. He said not to provoke you, because you were even worse than him." The boy fidgeted uncomfortably. "In fact he said you almost managed to kill him when you were together at school without even drawing your wand!" Despite himself, Maximillian seemed slightly impressed.

Sirius stared at him disbelievingly. "He said WHAT?"

"He warned us to behave really well or you could lose your temper and, well... So when you got so angry today..."

"I can't believe he did that! Slimy bas--" He swallowed the insult at the last moment.

"So it's not true?" Maximillian's curiosity was obviously piqued.

"No! Yes! No! Of course! It wasn't like that!" Sirius jumped up and started pacing around.

"How did you do that? We were wondering what kind of magic it takes to threaten someone like Professor Snape--and without a wand, to all that."

"Maximillian, I hate to say it, but you should know by now that Slytherins should not be trusted, and the Head of the Slytherin house is the epitome of that," Sirius said with a fair amount of bitterness. "I led Professor Snape into a very dangerous situation, where he could have lost his life, that's what he meant." //And I'm going to kick his arse for scaring the children,// he promised himself.

"Oooh..." Maximillian looked sorely disappointed. "But--you were an Auror with extensive military training, weren't you? And you led the assault on Boggiston, when Voldemort's closest supporters were cornered? Or were these misinterpretations too?"

"No, that happens to be true," Sirius grimaced. "Did Severus tell you all that?"

"And you lived through thirteen years of Azkaban and were the first man to ever escape, when you went after the Animagus Death Eater who framed you?"

"I wasn't the first to escape." Other cases simply weren't advertised so widely. "Maximillian, have mercy. I'll tell you about my eventful life another time. Did all the children think I was going to kill them with my glare if they misbehaved?" And he was so proud that they were nice in his class!

"Well, not really," Maximillian admitted. "At first we did, but when you didn't even blink at Green and LeMarchant bickering, we thought it was just a tale to scare us. Until today. You really can be terrifying if you put your heart into it," he said, but his lips twitched suspiciously.

"Please tell the others I'm not the monster they think I am. Especially Tommy Grier. Can I ask you to do that? I don't want to go after him now, he's going to be terrified by me."

"He'll live," Maximillian dismissed the concern with a shrug. "I'll talk to him and everybody else, I promise. They are going to be waiting to see if I come out alive," he smirked. Sirius groaned and Maximillian laughed without malice. "Don't worry, Sir. Rumour has it Professor McGonagall once Transfigured a boy who talked in her class into a wardrobe, and had Filch fix him with steel nails and a saw. But she forgot to change him back, and he's supposed to be standing in a storeroom somewhere in the castle to this day..." He winked and left the room.

*

Chapter 12

When Sirius came back, Severus wasn't in their quarters. Sirius made himself some tea and took a bath. He sat in it for a long time, bone-weary, heating the water with his wand over and over again. Not long after he got out, an owl arrived with Severus' message. Sirius grabbed it quickly and fed the bird.

'We took Stevenson to St. Mungo's. His initial reaction to the potion was favourable. He'll be monitored by the mediwizards for any adverse effects for several days.

You should be happy to know I'm going to London to submit the patent motion. Pomfrey will countersign it. I should be home early tomorrow morning.

I've left a preparation boiling in the workroom with a timing charm on it. Stir twelve times clockwise when the charm goes off, and don't touch anything else. Use the black ladle on the shelf to the left. Remember to go to see Pomfrey tomorrow for a check-up, the results will have to be appended to the patent motion.

'Your dose is in the blue vial by the bed, labelled 'Black', take it before going to sleep. Don't forget to eat!'

Sirius twisted his lips. //Yes, Mother.// He didn't feel like eating. Severus was constantly stuffing him like a pig.

He stirred the foul-smelling preparation that was bubbling unpleasantly in the tiny windowless closet Severus referred to as his workroom. He fed the Shadowdweller, and cleaned up after his tea. Without Severus, the rooms seemed, paradoxically, smaller, and stifling. Only now did Sirius notice how cramped they really were--filled with battered, mismatched furniture on the verge of collapsing. The lichen-covered ceiling and spotty walls added to the general sense of oppression. He could barely take three strides without bumping into something.

He realised he was brooding, and berated himself mentally. Severus' cool, sneering attitude to life had a grounding effect on him. He noticed it only now, when his lover wasn't around to stop him from spinning out of control with one sarcastic comment.

Finally he picked a book of poems by some long-dead Muggle friend of Albus', and spent the rest of the evening reading. One poem in particular caught his fancy, and he read the first stanza aloud:

Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right; Laugh, heart, again in the gray twilight, Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.

"Master Sirius Black should not sit here moping and talking to himself," a reproachful nasal voice said behind him, making Sirius start and almost drop the book. //Sparky//. Dressed in a miniature sleeping robe, complemented with a pom-pom night-cap and fluffy slippers, the house-elf was carrying a tray heaped with food. "Master Sirius didn't summon his lunch, and it's long past dinner too!"

"I'm not hungry, Sparky."

Sparky regarded him ruefully. "Master Sirius doesn't like Sparky's cooking?" It sniffed.

Sirius cursed inwardly. "Of course I like your cooking, Sparky. I, um... I forgot it was so late. I'm sorry to have troubled you at night. Did Severus ask you to make me eat?"

"Master Severus didn't have to ask Sparky." The elf was heaping food on a plate. "Sparky is happy to bring Master Sirius delicious food. Master Sirius is not taking care of himself." It was shaking its head mournfully, looking at Sirius with reproach.

Sparky stayed until Sirius ate everything, then disappeared, taking the dirty dishes with him.

~o~

Sirius couldn't sleep. The bed was too big. He missed the warmth and smell of Severus' body beside him. The silence in the room was making him twitchy. He spent most of the night watching the Shadowdweller out of the corner of his eye--whenever he sighed or moved, the creature would fall to the ground immediately, pretending to be a discarded set of robes, or a coat tossed by the fireplace.

He got up before sunrise and went for a walk, stopping by the owlery to see if they were any news from Severus. He had his check-up--Pomfrey was tired but energetic as always, bustling around him briskly. Then it was time to help Hagrid in the Forest. Guiltily, he realised he had skipped breakfast. Sparky was going to be unhappy.

Returning from the Forest at noon, he ran into Minerva. She was strolling through the grounds, apparently enjoying the sun.

"Hello, Sirius. I have to compliment you. Mr. Brawnes has been unblocked in the most spectacular manner." She was stifling laughter.

"What? What did he do?" Sirius asked curiously.

"He transfigured all the wood in the classroom into pink jelly. And a good part of the stairwell, too!" Minerva chuckled. "He sang incantations, Sirius--with such force and intensity I didn't have time to stop him. It was a whirlwind."

"I think Caden's an Enchanter, Minerva. He instinctively does magic with his voice, not his wand--"

"I know what an Enchanter is," Minerva waved her hand impatiently. "The question is, is he going to be able to finish Hogwarts despite that?"

Sirius thought about it. "He needs to learn to control his magic, of course--I don't think he had ever received any training in directing his magic by voice modulation."

Minerva cast him a sceptical glance. "Well. I've never heard of an Enchanter who was able to work precisely enough to achieve any success with Transfigurations. He should focus on a more traditional approach, not on felling castles with the power of his voice."

"He'll learn," Sirius disagreed. "He'll be limited in many aspects, of course, but I believe he'll manage to deal with his schoolwork. That boy will not learn to cast more advanced silent spells no matter what--the alternative is to expel him. He has to work out ways around his disability, if you want to call it that, and I am convinced he can do it."

"It's fortunate he has some definite chanting talent," Minerva admitted. "It hasn't been done for more than two hundred years, but after today's performance, I believe Brawnes could get an individual syllabus." She sighed. "Let's sit here on the grass. I have to talk to you about something."

Intrigued, Sirius sat cross-legged on the ground. Minerva leaned her back on a tree and said,

"How would you like to teach Transfigurations next year, Sirius?"

"Teach? As your assistant?"

"All by yourself. I won't be here next year. I'm leaving Hogwarts," Minerva explained. Sirius looked at her in horror. "No need to be so surprised!"

"But... why?"

"I'm getting married," she said simply.

Sirius was speechless. Married. McGonagall.

"Congratulations," he croaked weakly, collecting himself. "May I ask who is the lucky man?"

"He owns a wand shop in Surrey, a family business. We've been seeing each other for over thirty years," Minerva said. "I wasn't going to teach for so long. We intended to get married a long time ago, but one of us would have to move and change jobs, and there was always something that had to come first. The first war--many teachers died and I simply couldn't leave the students. Albus needed my help with the organisational matters as well. Then another war came, and leaving was out of the question again."

She sat more comfortably and continued. "I'm not young, and I don't want to put marriage off anymore. When you came along... It's a wonderful opportunity for me to pass my duties off to someone whose skill I trust. I couldn't retire if it meant another vacancy. I can't have my place filled by one of those miserable individuals who turn up these days thinking they can teach for a year or two, since they didn't find any other position." She grimaced wryly. "Think about it. Severus said you might be interested."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Sirius frowned.

"Are you offended?"

"No, of course not. It's just that... It's not the first time he's been trying to manipulate my life recently."

"You two seem... very close," Minerva said cautiously, sending Sirius a sideways look. He didn't know what to say.

"We are," he said finally. Let her think what she wanted.

"Well. If that's so, you may want to stay at Hogwarts anyway," she said lightly. "I think you'd make a solid teacher, Sirius. You know the subject more than enough, which can't be said of any of our current candidates." This time, Minerva's grimace was almost pained. "And you like working with children."

"I don't have any experience! I wouldn't even know where to start. It's one thing helping them with their homework, and another developing a syllabus and teaching actual classes!"

"You'll have until the next school-year to prepare. I won't be leaving until September. All I ask is that you consider the possibility."

"So, when's the wedding?" Sirius asked to change the subject.

"In mid-August." Minerva smiled. Her face looked younger, cleared of the usual stern, teacherly expression. Sirius thought that she deserved that--the chance to put herself first, finally. "You are to come, of course. Think of a suitable gift!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Sirius bowed, and she smacked him playfully. With her flushed face, twinkling eyes and black hair with only a few silver strands, she looked almost pretty. A few students passed by, casting them surprised looks.

"My students think I'm a homicidal maniac," Sirius confessed suddenly. He related the incident briefly, and to his surprise, Minerva started to laugh.

"Don't worry. Students will always say things like that. Usually it's the last years making up horror stories about teachers to scare the First-Year children. Don't they say Snape makes you drink your potion if you botch it and it's poisonous? And I am supposed to have Transfigured a student into a mouse once and tried to eat her." She snickered helplessly. "They also say Sprout's roses grow so well because there are mouthy students buried under the hothouse..."

~o~

Severus was already in their quarters, bathed and rested after a short nap.

"You told McGonagall I want to stay and teach here next year!" Sirius accused upon seeing him.

"I merely mentioned you might be interested in the opportunity," Severus said mildly. "Last weekend you said you were going to look for a paid job. I thought that if you found a position at Hogwarts, we wouldn't lose contact altogether. Even if you found a house, or decided to live with Potter."

Sirius dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "I wouldn't leave you! I just meant to look through the Daily Prophet, see if there was anything... Never mind. It's not important now. What I really want to know is why you told the students I was a murdering madman!"

Snape snickered. "I thought you had been anxious that they would eat you alive? I told you I had means to get them to behave."

"They are afraid of me now! How could you use something like that as--as a joke!"

"Oh, come on, Black, you have to admit it was funny. I didn't say a word that wasn't true, like a real Gryffindor."

"It's funny to you?" Sirius felt irritated. "I've spent the last months trying to make sure you understood how bad I felt about what I did to you and you think it's funny?"

"You obviously don't share the sentiment."

"I can't treat it so lightly. I can't believe you can," Sirius said helplessly.

Snape just shrugged. They ate their lunch in silence. Severus sent the empty dishes away, but didn't get up.

"Black. I want to clarify something here," he said so seriously that Sirius froze. "Are you in a relationship with me because of some misguided sense of guilt? Are you trying to make up for the fact that you put me in danger?"

Sirius closed his eyes, willing the anger down. Working with kids did do wonders to his self-restraint, he thought, regardless of his outburst yesterday.

When he felt he could trust his voice, he said, "Yes. I'm enduring your filthy touch every night just to torture myself over and over again. That's why I'm also shagging Remus on alternate Fridays to make it up to him, and masturbating in the bathroom to ease the guilt for ruining my own life! Are you insane?"

Snape looked down at his hands and didn't answer.

"Severus... What made you think that?"

"Because you're clearly better, and yet you are still here," Snape answered quietly. He got up and leaned on the wall, avoiding looking at Sirius. "When you first started exhibiting affection towards me, I recognised it as the need to make amends, and thereby to release the sense of guilt that had been oppressing you. A lot of the feeling had been artificially induced, of course, and I'm concerned that the potion didn't dispel it completely. I thought I made it clear I don't hold a grudge against you anymore, but if you need to hear it--I forgive you. You can move on with your life now." His lips twisted in a dejected grimace.

Sirius wanted to get up and hug him, make it better with kisses and touches, but he knew words were needed here. They had to commit, one way or another. There was no way to avoid it any longer. But first, he had to deal with the past. He took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Severus. I appreciate your words," he said seriously. "You have to understand, though, that I will never be able to completely put that incident behind me. It's not a failure of your cure that I still feel the guilt.

Similarly, the fact you were able to forgive me is profoundly important to me, but it doesn't make it all go away. The sadness over my past shortcomings has become a part of me, assimilated into my very bones. It makes me who I am. You shouldn't think you are the source of my anxiety in any way, Severus. I feel the same towards Remus, if not more so. And I know he will never forget I that thought he could be the spy Voldemort had set on Potters."

Snape shrugged, as if indicating there was nothing he could do about that--or that he didn't see the point in being upset at all.

"But most importantly, I would never be able to forget myself," Sirius continued, grasping for the right words to express what he had understood about himself during the past months. "I can't just discard my past and start over. I tried to make it clear when I first came to you that I didn't come for absolution. I wasn't looking for your help to ease my conscience then. I told you that I wanted to give you a chance to put it behind you, to try to snap this cord of hatred that's been binding you to me for all these years. I didn't come to you to shirk he the responsibility, I came to accept it."

It was much easier to speak about the past now, Sirius noticed. His mind was clearer. He could choose his words calmly at last, and he hoped that what he was saying made more sense now.

"There are other things in my life I feel guilty about," he went on. "James' death. All those Muggles that died when I cornered Pettigrew in a crowded street. That boy, Neville, not being able to walk again. Harry's unhappy childhood, because I couldn't be there for him. You can't absolve me of that guilt, Severus. No potion will ever do that."

He got up and crossed the room to his lover, trying to look Severus in the face.

"What you did instead was to teach me it was possible to accept the guilt and live with it. Look at me, Severus! Think of what I am now, and what I was then. I came to you as a wreck, hating myself more than you hated me." He paused, looking for words. "I wanted to be an animal, and you were willing to fight for me to be human again. It wasn't just your potion that helped me heal, and you know that. You've found courage to live with things you can't forgive yourself, and I respect you for that. You walked me through the hard time, and now I'm getting better. I have my friends back, I have a job, I have a lover to live with. I have future again. You are a part of that future. An indispensable part. Understand that?"

He took Severus' face in his hands and kissed those tightly clenched lips. "There's no hidden agenda, no noble sacrifice, no catch. I love you. I want to be with you."

Severus seemed to finally unclench. He let out a tiny sigh and pushed away from the wall.

"You are the first thing I've allowed myself to love after my father killed my raven," he said hoarsely. "It would be... painful if you left. I was trying to--" he stopped and shook his head. "To be prepared, I guess. As much as I seem indispensable today, you may meet someone tomorrow who'll turn out to be the same and more. I'd like to know in advance where I stand."

"I guess you'll have to trust me," Sirius said quietly.

"I guess I will," Snape sighed and hugged Sirius lightly. "So, do you really shag Lupin on alternate Fridays?"

"I was just being sarcastic, don't tell me you believed that!"

"What, and no wanking off in the bathroom either? Where's the legendary Gryffindor stamina?"

"Idiot," Sirius said affectionately and kissed him. "Come on, let me show you where all the legendary stamina goes."

Severus allowed himself to be dragged towards the bedroom.

"Say, did you write down that little courage and respect speech? It sounded awfully like a rehearsed piece," he asked, as Sirius helped him out of his robe.

"Slimy ungrateful bastard," said Sirius, who had done exactly that. "I was going to write you a letter. Thanking you for your help and all that. I didn't expect to have to actually say it in person! And it doesn't make it any less true, you know," he added. "Just embarrassing."

"Embarrassing, yes, I can see how that could be," Severus murmured, stroking Sirius' naked hips and leaning forward to lick a nipple. "Mawkish, too."

"Oh, shut up." They were undulating against each other, sweating already, stroking and kissing. "Like you would do better."

"Mmmm," Severus moaned contentedly and trailed his fingers in an infuriating tease over Sirius' inner thigh and along his balls. "Are you going to accept the teaching position?"

"Yes," Sirius mumbled, nibbling on Severus' jawline. "But only if I can live down here with you."

"But of course... Although, it won't be the same as having a kept man. I was feeling so dashing..."

"One... of these... days," Sirius managed between gasps of pleasure and laughter, "I'm really going to kill you."

~ END ~

 

Notes:

Additional notes:

If you are curious about the potion ingredients Severus used, here's an explanation of where they came from. Please do not try to make your own potions using them unless you've completed your education at the O.W.L. level at least, and in no circumstances ingest any of these ingredients without an explicit permission from your mediwizard.

Vandal Root is another name for Valerian, a herb that has been used to treat insomnia, stress-related anxiety and nervous restlessness for thousands of years. It is a compound of many over-the-counter sleeping pills.

Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata) is a herbal remedy for insomnia, seizures, and hysteria, as well as other health problems related to anxiety and nervousness.

Goat Weed is a less popular name for St. John's Wort (Hypericum perforatum), the 'Nature's Prozac'. It was once thought to rid the body of evil spirits, and now is used as a natural antidepressant.

Skullcap (Scutellaria lateriflora) has been used as a mild relaxant and as a remedy for anxiety, nervous tension, and convulsions. Severus was wise enough not to mention that the herb was at one time a popular remedy for rabies, and therefore earned itself a name of 'mad dog weed'.

Goat's Bane (Aconitum Lycoctonum) is a poisonous plant with pale yellow flowers, also known as wolfsbane.

One Extra Disclaimer Just In Case: Bryan Sparks, Ransom Love and Caldera are in no way associated with the author of this story, the work of Rowlings, or the wizarding world.