Chapter Text
When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, the mini furniture in tow, they were greeted by the sound of arguing. Harry and Draco stood nose to nose in the hallway while Remus hovered nearby, looking like he’d long since surrendered any hope of peace.
“Okay, Hyacinth and Richard, break it up!” Sirius said.
The arguing ceased immediately as everyone turned to Sirius with confusion written all over them.
“Who?” Draco asked, frowning. Harry bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
“Hyacinth and Richard Bucket. Keeping Up Appearances? It’s a TV show,” Sirius said like it was obvious.
“What’s a TV show?” Draco asked flatly.
Sirius sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Never mind. Why are you fighting this time?”
“Severus won’t let me leave the house alone, and Harry doesn’t want to come to Diagon Alley with me,” Draco replied.
“I was out all day yesterday!” Harry shot back. “I just want to stay home for once!”
“What about me?” Draco demanded. “I’m going to be stuck here all break. I can’t see or talk to my friends or even my parents.”
“How long has this been going on?” Regulus whispered to a disgruntled Remus.
“Apparently since after breakfast.” Remus muttered. Regulus made a face.
Sirius clapped his hands. “Alright. Draco, you’re bored and need something to do?” Draco nodded.
“Harry, you need space?”
“Desperately.”
“Great. Harry, you can head up to your room, close the door, and do absolutely nothing.” Harry lit up and bolted up the stairs.
“Draco, we need help adapting the house. Go check the books in the library — the ones we laid out — and make a list of spells we might need.
Everything’s on the parchment. Once you’re done, you can come with one of us to pick up dinner. Fair?”
Draco hesitated, then gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He turned and disappeared toward the library.
Remus exhaled loudly. “Pads, I’ve been trying to calm them down all morning.”
“He’s probably going stir-crazy,” Regulus said sympathetically. “Cut off from his friends, stuck with people he barely knows, and not allowed to leave.”
Sirius nodded, glancing after Draco. “Maybe we can send him and Harry to Hermione’s for a day. Might do them both some good.”
The idea hung in the air until Remus broke the silence. “So... what did you decide? About the rooms?”
“Reggie will stay in my old room and we’ll clear out my stuff and put it in his room.” Sirius turned to his brother. “Reg, let’s go pack our stuff. You take your room, I’ll take mine.”
Regulus nodded but made no attempt to move. “What’s wrong?” Sirius asked.
“I’ll need some help but I don’t want to drag Severus in there. It’s filled with…” Regulus shook his head. “...Never mind, I’ll handle it.”
“I can help.” Remus spoke up. Regulus considered the offer, still unsure. “I know your past, Regulus,” Remus said, gently, “I’m not going to judge you for decisions you made at 17.”
After a pause, Regulus nodded and headed toward the stairs. Remus gave Sirius a small, reassuring smile and followed after him.
Sirius remained in the hallway a moment longer, rubbing at his chest. Guilt clawed beneath his ribs, heavy and familiar. Then he turned and headed toward the potions lab.
It wasn’t difficult to rope Severus into helping him. He had completed the potion and was just letting it rest so when Sirius asked, Severus hesitantly agreed.
They worked in silence at first. Sirius picked up the books he’d left scattered around the floor, glancing occasionally at Severus as he folded old t-shirts he’d picked up from the ground with practiced precision.
Sirius paused, staring at Severus working. “Black, I can hear you think and I understand that is not something you are used to so just say what you want to say,” Severus said, still focused on getting through the pile of clothes,
“Did you know about the horcruxes?” Sirius asked. Sirius noticed Severus’ shoulders tense lightly.
Severus looked up. “Why are you asking about this?”
“So you do know?” Sirius confirmed.
Severus shook his head. “Regulus informed me when we initially started writing letters. This is why Albus asked that I go undercover again. Not for war plans but to find out how many he made and where he stored them.”
Sirius held a stack of textbooks, his hands suddenly heavy. “I hate this. Every day, I hate the idea of you going back more and more.”
“Well, lucky for us, your opinion has no bearing on our strategy,” Severus replied flatly, moving to the next pile.
“Snape, there has to be another way.”
“And when you are in charge of this war, you may find it,” Severus deadpanned.
The disgruntled professor glanced around. “Why does it look like Albus and the Dark Lord dueled here?”
Sirius let out a breath, frustrated at the topic change. “I blasted the armoire open last month. Was looking for something.”
Severus gave him a side-eye as Sirius opened the cabinet and paused.
His face softened. “Well, hello,” he whispered, pulling out a dusty portable record player.
Severus looked up. “We’re not playing music, Black.”
“Think we need some atmosphere,” Sirius said. He opened a drawer and flipped through old vinyls until he found Elton John.
“There are no electrical sockets,” Severus said, but Sirius only smiled.
“I have my ways.” He flicked his wand, casting a charm Peter once taught him. He pushed away the bittersweet memory, concentrating on the
music like it was the first time he was hearing it.
Sirius stood, eyes half-closed, letting it wash over him. Severus stared.
“How… how do you know this one?” Severus asked.
Sirius snapped out of his daze. “You told me about it… when we wrote to each other. I asked you about what muggle music you liked and you liked the slower ones.”
“I don’t remember that.” Severus said, a bit hesitant.
“I didn’t either but then I read some of the letters and some of the memories started coming back.” Sirius explained.
“Well, it’s not like that matters anymore.” Severus said.
Sirius looked up, the nostalgic expression he wore shattering into anguish. “You keep saying that but it does matter.”
“And why do events from 20 years ago, events we don’t remember matter?” Severus challenged.
A beat of silence passed as Sirius considered the question. Just when Severus thought he had won, Sirius asked another question. “When you look at me, do you see the kid who called you to the shrieking shack?”
Severus averted his gaze, not giving an answer.
“That’s why it matters, Snape. Because you still believe I hated you enough to want you dead. But that wasn’t me!” Severus stilled at the outburst. He knew that, he really did, but he still couldn’t push away the false memories of Sirius’ invitation and James’ rescue.
“I pushed you out of the way! I carried you out of there and tended to your wounds! James was the one who called you there!” Sirius cried.
Severus shook his head. “You were still a prick to me all those years before! You let Potter assault me! Several times!”
“And I take full responsibility for everything I did to hurt you. I was cruel to you and I never stopped James either. I will never ask you to forget it.
But I can’t take the blame for what I didn’t do anymore. Not this. Not the Shack.” Sirius replied. Severus snapped his head up, meeting Sirius’ eyes.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt and I certainly didn’t want you dead. I need you to understand that.”
“Black, how do you just expect me to suddenly believe a whole other truth? Distrust 2 decades of memories for a 2 minute vision?” Severus asked, exasperated.
“You did it before. How did you do it last time?” Sirius asked.
Severus shook his head. “What last time?”
“Everyone still thinks I should get the Dementor’s Kiss for what happened to James and Lily. Harry thought I was going to kill him. Dumbledore doubted me. But you—” Sirius took a shaky breath. “You believed me. The moment Peter escaped, you changed sides. Why?”
“Because I saw it. Tangible proof.”
“You want tangible?” Sirius stepped closer. “Then read the letters with me.”
Severus blinked. “What?”
“They’re proof. Real pieces of what we were. Your job at the corner store. You telling me about Piccadilly Circus. Me going out to buy records
because you liked them.” He gestured to the record player. “This record player is tangible proof that we weren’t enemies. That we cared about
each other. That we were more…”
There was a long silence. Severus exhaled.
“Fine,” he said. “If you actually get this room cleaned, I’ll read the letters with you.”
“There’s just one problem,” Sirius winced. “I kind of… banished them when Harry and Draco barged in. Now I don’t know where they are. I search every corner of the house but I can’t find or summon them.”
Severus groaned. “You’re on your own, Black.”
Sirius just laughed as I Need You To Turn To began to play. They worked in relative peace, with Sirius humming along to the song.
Severus continued to tidy up, making sure everything was neatly packed away as Sirius began to miniaturize the furniture. The moment felt too intimate, like Sirius had gotten to know a part of him against his will. The peace felt too overwhelming, unearned so Severus decided to shatter the quiet. “You never explained why you roped me into cleaning your room.”
Sirius looked up, surprised by the question. “Reggie doesn’t want to stay in his old room. Swapping was the only way to get him back from France.” He paused. “Thank you. For looking out for him when I couldn’t. He told me how much he trusted you even with everything our parents put him through.”
“There’s no need to thank me.”
“No, I mean it. The way you took care of him—”
“My friendship with Regulus and my concern for his well-being is not a favor to you. Don’t diminish it by making it your responsibility to be grateful.”
Sirius nodded slowly. “You’re right. My responsibility wasn’t to thank you. It was to watch his back.” His voice faltered. “And I didn’t.”
Severus’ eyes softened though he did not say anything.
“Fuck!” Sirius sighed, dropping gracelessly onto his desk chair. The words tumbled out of his mouth as Sirius didn’t let himself hold back anymore. “I didn’t know he was alive! I spent over a decade thinking he was dead because he couldn’t trust me. Because I left him. I let our parents and James convince him I wanted nothing to do with him. I let them abuse him.”
“I thought you no longer wanted to take the blame for someone else’ wrongdoings." Severus said. Sirius looked up, meeting his gaze.
“What?”
“You mentioned not wanting to feel guilty for the pain others inflicted. Why are you taking responsibility for your parent’s actions?” Severus asked.
“Because!” Sirius snapped. Then softer, “Because they put him through hell after I left.”
“I see,” Severus nodded. “However, I don’t recall placing Harry under strict surveillance when Draco attempted to flee. We didn’t ask for his wand or broom or forbid him from speaking to his friends. At Hogwarts, we take points from certain houses but I’ve never given all of Gryffindor detention when it was Harry who snuck out.”
Sirius’ expression crumbled as Severus’ words landed. Their parents didn’t have to punish Regulus for his actions. “Are you saying it’s not my fault?”
“Yes. Even someone as dimwitted as you must know you can’t control what other people do. Especially not when you were just a child trying to survive. Your parents punished him for your actions. That was not a choice you could have made. And based on what I’ve heard about your escape, it didn’t seem like you had other options.”
Sirius turned away, something in his chest loosening. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Severus didn’t answer. He just continued packing, the quiet music filling the space between them.