Prophecy Child

Sirius woke slowly, taking a moment to work out where he was. It was far too comfortable to be Azkaban.

He looked around blearily. A library?

No, not just any library. His own family library. He was out of Azkaban. He had been talking with his Mother’s portrait.

His head wobbled a little as he turned to face her again, before catching sight of what must have woken him.

Severus Snape, standing in the doorway of the library, wand outstretched, expression torn between shock and anger.

Sirius watched him, letting his expression slip into that uncanny one that freaked James and Lily out the most. To his credit, Snape didn’t waver. Sirius let the expression slip away, looking at Snape with a little more interest.

‘How did you find the library?’ he asked simply.

Snape’s wand remained trained on Sirius’ chest, but his eyes flicked briefly to Walburga.

‘I invited him here. We like to catch up occasionally.’ Walburga said, voice prim again.

Sirius made a face. ‘Please tell me you haven’t been flirting with my mother, Snape?’

Severus’ cheeks went pink as he continued to stare. Sirius lifted his head. ‘Sweet Merlin, you have?! She’s twice your age, and she’s a painting, Snape!’

‘We have not been flirting, you incorrigible brat!’ snapped Walburga.

‘Why is Snape blushing then?’ Sirius retorted.

‘At the insinuation, you imbecile! How would you react if I accused you of flirting with someone’s deceased mother?! Apologies, Walburga.’

Sirius blinked, then nodded. ‘Fair. Bit awkward, that. Sorry.’

Snape’s eyes widened. He flicked his wand, and a bluish glow drifted down over Sirius’ body.

‘What was that for?’ Sirius squawked.

‘Just making sure that’s actually Sirius Black sitting in front of me.’ Snape snarked, but his eyes betrayed a hint of nervous confusion.

‘Who else would I be?’

‘Someone with manners. Someone who apologises at reasonable moments.’

Sirius ducked his head. ‘Fair. I suppose we should probably have a conversation too.’

‘What would I possibly want to talk to you about, Black?’ growled Snape.

‘I was a little shit in school, and I went way too far. Repeatedly. I’m sorry for my behaviour, but I can’t take it back. Like I said to my mother, those wounds are far too deep to begin trying to heal immediately. I would like to propose we just move forward for now. I know it is a lot to ask, and perhaps we ought to revisit things later so I can apologise more thoroughly, but for now I propose that we make a truce.’

Snape stared at him, suspicion and confusing warring in his eyes. ‘Why?’ he demanded.

Sirius sighed. ‘I had more than a little time to think in Azkaban, and my eyes have been opened. James Potter was my first true friend, and I would have followed him straight to hell without hesitation. He was jealous of your relationship with Lily, and so I followed his lead in targeting you. You also represented the family I was trying to reject, as a Slytherin, and so I felt no guilt at my actions. I can see now just how far wrong I went, and I am sorry that you suffered because of my idiocy.’

Snape’s expression flickered, and he glanced to Walburga.

‘He is indeed a different person than I have known, Severus.’ She said quietly. 

Snape’s wand lowered slowly, but he was still tense. ‘Is this some ploy to catch me off guard? How did you charm a portrait to agree with you? Magical portraits shouldn’t be able to be manipulated like that.’

Sirius shook his head. ‘In the name of Lady Magic, I swear that I mean no harm to Severus Snape. May my House be forfeit to him if I break my word. So mote it be.’

Snape’s eyes widened, and he slid into a nearby chair. ‘I didn’t ask you to do that!’ he snapped.

‘No,’ agreed Sirius mildly. ‘But it was necessary. I need your help, and I need your trust. Well, a measure of trust, at least.’

Snape’s eyes narrowed. ‘It is a ploy, then.’

Sirius’ head dropped back to lean against the chair. ‘No, not a ploy. Well, not a ploy against you.’ He paused. ‘What time is it?’

Snape blinked at the non-sequitur. ‘Just after ten.’

‘Morning or night?’

Snape’s brow furrowed. ‘Morning.’

Sirius stood stiffly and shuffled over, lowering himself to the floor facing a wall. He smiled slightly. These walls were much better than St Mungo’s. The wallpaper had little forest motifs that moved. He could easily watch this wall all day.

Not that he would. Only mornings were for walls. He’d have to start watching the sky after lunch – although the sky was pretty interesting outside of Azkaban too. He certainly wasn’t going to be bored anytime soon!

Snape and Walburga watched in frank confusion.

‘Sirius? What are you doing?’ called Walburga.

‘Watching the wall.’

‘Yes, I can see that. Why are you watching a wall?’

‘It’s morning.’

Snape and Walburga looked at each other, both drawing a blank.

‘Could you elaborate?’ asked Snape.

‘Mornings are for watching walls. Afternoons are for watching the sky. Nighttime is for floors. It’s important to have a routine, or you’ll go crazy.’

‘I think he might already be there.’ muttered Severus to Walburga.  

‘Perhaps, but he isn’t deaf.’ Sirius interjected, making Snape’s cheek turn pink.

‘Apologies.’ Snape said awkwardly.

Sirius waved him off, eyes fixed on the wall.

‘You said you had a ploy for which you needed my trust?’ Snape prompted, once the silence had lingered into awkwardness.

Sirius didn’t respond. Snape called his name, but he didn’t react. Walburga called too, sharp and demanding, but Sirius just stared at the wall.

Snape stood and crossed the room, trying to catch Sirius’ attention. His eyes were blank as he stared at the wall, not even blinking when Snape waved a hand in front of his face. Snape frowned, looking at Walburga and shaking his head slightly. After a minute of watching Sirius’ glazed, unseeing eyes, Snape laid a hand on his shoulder.

The response was immediate.

Sirius flung himself to one side, curling tight and wrapping his arms over his head.

Snape reeled back in surprise. ‘What the- Black, what are you doing?!’

‘WHO DARED HARM THE SON OF THE HOUSE OF BLACK?!’ screamed Walburga. ‘There will be Mordred himself to pay when I find them!’

Sirius curled tighter at the raised voice, and Snape raised a quelling hand to quiet Walburga. She stopped abruptly, eyes still blazing with fury.

‘Black.’ Snape tried. ‘Sirius Black. Stop it! Sit up, you fool!’

Sirius stayed curled in his defensive pose, unhearing.

Snape leaned closer, cautious and ready to spring back if this was a trick. He laid a hand on Sirius’ leg, but he just flinched and curled tighter. Snape stretched over him and grabbed a shoulder, hauling him upright. Sirius gasped, trying to protect his face.

‘You are not under attack, Black. We are in your house. Open your eyes.’ Snape’s voice was even, no hint of vindictiveness or satisfaction at Sirius’ fear.

Sirius slitted one eye open, bracing for the guards to take their chance – but there were no guards. He was back home. In the library. With his mother and Severus Snape, watching him worriedly.

‘Sorry. Forgot where I was.’ he mumbled.

Both his mother and Snape frowned, but he didn’t elaborate.

‘Have you seen healers since your release, Black?’

‘Sirius.’ Sirius said, voice quiet but insistent. ‘Call me Sirius. Please.’

Snape cleared his throat. ‘Have you seen healers since your release?’ he repeated, avoiding the name.

‘Yeah. Said I’m stable but need to rebuild my strength and whatever.’ He mumbled, eyes drifting to the wall.

‘No more staring at the wall.’ Snape said firmly. ‘Go and sit on a chair.’

Sirius blinked hard, then complied, movements slow and painful.

‘What about a mind healer?’

Sirius scoffed. ‘Not paying some schmuck to tell me what I already know. Brain damage from isolation and lack of stimulation, lingering effects of dementors, plus the physical stuff affecting the brain stuff – lack of nutrition and cold exposure and whatever else.’

Snape stared in open horror before quickly schooling his expression. ‘That…’ he trailed off, no idea what to say next.

‘BRAIN DAMAGE?!’ cried Walburga. At Sirius’ flinch, she quietened, hissing, ‘You have brain damage?’

‘Probably. I don’t think they checked, or if they did, they didn’t tell me. Probably told dear old Albus though, apparently he is privy to my private medical information without my approval.’ Sirius grumbled. ‘I know my thinking isn’t right. Sometimes I forget where or when I am. I know my mind drifts a lot. That’s why I have a routine – got to keep track of time, know how long I’ve been drifting for. Mornings are for walls, afternoons –‘

‘You’ve been trying to keep track of time?’ Severus interjected.

‘Sort of. I mostly rely on mealtimes to know when to move to the next part of the routine. Guards change on Sunday, so Saturday night I can spend time as a dog, helps me stay a bit more sane. The guards have switched off and aren’t paying close attention when they’re thinking about leaving in the morning. Dementors ignore animals. I’ve been here for 1,111 days. No! It’s more now. Where’s my calendar?’ he asked, glancing around. ‘No, I’m at home. My calendar is still back there. Should I go and get it? Need to keep track.’ Sirius speech was starting to ramble and jump around.

‘Perhaps it is time to rest, Bla- Sirius.’ Snape said, voice calm and steady – almost soothing.

Sirius turned to face him. ‘Am I not making sense?’ he asked, trying for light-hearted but tension clear in his voice.

‘You sound tired. Your body and mind have been through a lot these last days - years. You need rest.’ Walburga said, gentle but insistent.

‘You haven’t spoken to me like that since I was a little kid.’ Sirius said flatly. ‘I’m crazier than I think, aren’t I?’

‘You need rest. Your mind is struggling. You have been mostly coherent, but you are starting to ramble. Go and sleep, before you start doing more damage.’ Snape’s voice was firm.

Sirius sighed, nodding tiredly. ‘Can I sleep in here?’ he asked quietly.

‘A bed would be preferable.’ replied Walburga.

Sirius hunched his shoulders. ‘There aren’t any portraits in my room.’ He mumbled.

Snape eyed him, assessing. ‘Would you prefer company while you sleep, Bl- Sirius?’

Sirius’ ears burned as he nodded.

Severus held back a comment, flicking his wand at an armchair and transfiguring it into a bed. Sirius climbed onto it without hesitation and curled into a tight ball. ‘What day is it? Is it Saturday? Can be a dog on Saturday night, sleep good.’ He mumbled.

Snape glanced at Walburga. It was almost lunchtime on a Tuesday, but they nodded in silent agreement.

‘It’s Saturday night, Sirius. You can be a dog and have a good sleep.’

Sirius hummed happily, wriggling a little, before transforming into a huge black Grimm-like dog. Snape caught the brief flicker of complaint on Walburga’s face at an animal on the furniture, but she held back. This was her son – her broken, damaged son, too afraid to sleep in his own room and needing her company.

‘I am afraid I have other business to attend, Bla- Sirius. Sleep well. Walburga, send Kreacher to fetch me if there is an issue.’

The dog gave Severus a sideways glance, flicking out his tongue and wriggling to get comfortable, before dropping almost immediately off to sleep.

‘Thank you, Severus. I will keep you updated.’

Severus hesitated, watching the curled-up dog for a long minute, brow furrowed. ‘How the hell did he do that?’ he muttered under his breath.

‘What is that, Severus?’

Severus’ cheeks went pink. ‘Stupid mutt has been back for all of a few hours, and I’m actively concerned about his well-being.’

Walburga snorted inelegantly. ‘We are companions in that regard, Severus.’