Six
Every student who had the fortune -or misfortune- of being in Albus Dumbledore's office during their years at Hogwarts left with a feeling of marvelous sensation. It was a wonder, a place of peculiar objects arranged in an unorganized order that seemed almost too methodical. A distraction, like everything Albus did, until he made you agree to things that, under any other circumstance, would be obvious manipulation. An apology, you never meant when you first entered, but felt compelled to say afterwards. An agreement to matters illogical.
It helped, the way he talked, to add to the mystical affair of the whole stage he had set. Dumbledore was a performer. Strict, when he chose to be, kind and soft when it served him.
He is intelligent, that much is certain. An intellect that rises above restrictions, thoughts that an average mind can't comprehend. A valuable ally when he wants to, a formidable foe, whenever he pleases.
Severus hates his office. For him, all the shiny peculiarities scattered around are a reminder of the many times he sat in the exact same chair he is sitting right now, listening to the headmaster as to why he shouldn't be engaging in fights, why he should try and see the similarities he had with the people around him, and not the differences.
Every lecture, every stern look, every flattery ended with injustice.
At first he thought that there would be a time when his turn would come, that he would hear you're right, that at least there was a place somewhere, where his screams would be justified.
He was wrong. He learnt to behave accordingly afterwards. And the magical wonder of the office -of Dumbledore- faded. Albus chose neutrality and that was a decision in and of itself.
Neutrality with a hint of preference. At least he was human like the rest of them.
Severus came and went unapologetic, shielded with the knowledge that he alone dictated his pride. He stopped waiting for saviours.
"Ah, here's the tea." The man says and he stops explaining to Black one thing or the other. Severus stopped hearing Albus' mumbling when he insisted that they should be served tea before they spoke. They were guests now, not students and tea would make all the difference.
They both sit down at last. Albus is barely sitting at the side of his office, a theatric of casualness- still across from them. Black takes the chair next to him. And here they are, years after leaving school in the exact same positions they had so often occupied. Potter would open the door soon, demanding that Black had done nothing wrong, that it was all Snivellus' fault. Pettigrew would say that he was scared, how his loyal friend protected him from the nefarious plans Snape had. Lupin would say that it was just a misunderstanding, that they should calm down, it was nothing.
It was never nothing to Severus.
"Can we begin?" He says.
"Yes of course, dear Severus." It was dear boy then. "I realise you have important information to share."
Severus wants to ask if he in fact realises it.
"The Dark Lord has put a jinx on his name. A Taboo. You should inform the Order. And they should inform everyone they know."
Albus looks at him thoughtly. He isn't scared. Troubled perhaps. An obstacle to the road of victory. Why would he be scared? Powerful as he is. Detached from anything tangible.
"This is very crucial. Thank you Severus." He smiles. "Always reliable." There it is, the flattery. "May i ask? How did you obtain an information as such?"
"Through a chain of scattered words." Severus lies straight to his face. It's easy -he knew Albus would ask. A side glance and Black is already looking at him. There is a moment, where he fears that Black will mention the letter, the signature -even though Severus had told him he would explain later.
But Black looks straight ahead, shaking his head to a rhythm only he hears, a tap of his fingers on his thighs.
"It's the way he speaks, isn't it?" He says to Dumbledore, with a smirk. "Like he's all grand and important."
"Sirius, my boy, I hope you're not still engaging in old school rivalries and fights. You are grown men, capable of putting your tiffs behind." There is still a smile on his face, yet between breaths, he flicks his gaze to Severus momentarily.
"What Black fails to perceive, is that my time as a spy still bares fruits." He has to give Albus something.
"Ah, I see." Albus says. "I'm sure Sirius tends to behave in a more straightforward approach."
He's right. Except Black lied through his teeth just now.
Severus almost smiles.
_____
They pass through corridors full of students, running to and from classrooms. Books in the air, a palpable, restless energy of childish dreams and worries. They wake up and study, meet with friends, cry alone over someone they like. A false reality, the last safe place against the war outside these walls.
They dream -most of them Severus is sure- of future jobs and houses and loves that will never happen. They live in a bubble protected still. Many of them will join the fight. Most of them will die -heroes within the four walls of their houses, a mention of their names on a plaque. Nameless bodies sacrificed for the visions of great men, for the greedy need for power.
"Hogsmeade?" Black says by his side. He looks around with a warmth Severus can't feel.
"Too public."
"Forbidden forest?"
"Fine." Severus sighs and Black is momentarily surprised.
They have the most essential stuff on them. They tore down Black's house -his floors and walls- only to rebuild it, warded to protect potions as a last resort. Another compromise, another burnt location. It's fine. The information was more valuable.
"I missed this place." Black tells him as they pass by the doors.
"I'm sure." Severus replies.
"We were determined to map the entirety of the castle. By the time we ended our last year we had only managed to get to one third of it. One and a half." Black continues, unfazed by Severus clear lack of interest.
"Sounds delightful."
"It started because I was desperate to find a place so I could go and meet girls unbothered, but it involved to a thing of our own."
"I'm glad you had interests other than meetings girls and be a total nuisance. Not that of course those activities don't contribute to the situation we are facing right now."
"You could laugh from time to time. It will do you some good."
"Because you are the epitome of humour."
"Many people find me funny."
"Humour requires intelligence, which is something that escapes you."
They arrive at the edge of the forest. Black takes a step, but Severus stops him.
"This is far enough. No more."
"Scared?" Black smirks.
"The forest contains a variety of creatures, who's alliance I don't know. I am cautious."
"It was a..." Black waves his hands. "Nevermind."
"A joke?" Severus asks and then he laughs as fake as he can master.
"You are such a huge dick." Black makes a crude gesture and then he sits down, resting his back at a tree. The castle is hidden behind them.
"So." He says and his carefree expression is gone. "The letter."
Severus puts his hand behind his back, straighting his posture.
"The letter was a warning for me from an acquaintance of mine."
"Who?" Black asks and he won't take any answer but the truth.
"Narcissa Malfoy."
A flare in his eyes -betrayal, anger. Too pale to be considered blue.
"Because you did something for that old cousin of mine." He says and his voice is even.
"Yes."
"And the question rises again. What did you do for Narcissa?"
Narcissa Malfoy is one of the few people Severus respects. Despite her upbringing and beliefs, despite her superior air and her beauty that almost touched coldness, she treated Severus like an actual human being.
"I saved her life." Severus answers.
"How?" Black is waiting, still, but vibrating.
Narcissa Malfoy operates in the exact same way Severus does. She has loyalty for people, not ideas. She values her beloved enough to betray beliefs, ideas and upbringing. And she is quiet as she does so.
While Lucius wept in bathrooms, fearing his family would choose another bride for him, Narcissa convinced hers that a union of the two families would be the most beneficial, without ever uttering the exact words.
"I tipped her off for an upcoming ambush."
"When?"
Lucius had just informed him about the gift his wife was going to give him. She was pregnant. Lucius was going to be a father.
And the Dark Lord had ordered a mission. A simple one, that Severus knew wasn't going to be so simple. So he tipped her off.
"A month before I left my position as a spy."
Black is looking at him as if he's trying to perform wandless magic, as if a killing curse is on tip of his tongue.
"How many of our own died?" He asks.
"I don't know."
He gets up, stands in front of him.
"How many?"
"I don't know." Severus replies evenly.
And the thing is, Lucius was also decent to him. Arrogant by nature, but not cruel.
And the thing is that Lucius trusted him enough, his abilities, his mind, his belief for the cause to guarantee a spot for him in the inner circle.
And just before Severus left the Death Eaters and Voldemort, Lucius was talking about his child, his heir, in a way he never talked about wealth and names.
He was talking about a child that he was destined to never meet, because as soon as Severus's double identity would be revealed, Lucius would be executed.
So he saved his life too.
Obliviate me, Black had said. I know you can do it. He was right.
"You sold our people for them? For a fucking Death Eater?"
"Narcissa Malfoy is not a Death Eater." Severus states and Black clenches the front of his robes.
"She is married to one. She is with them, so what difference does it make?"
"I agree." Severus tells him.
Black yanks him forward. Severus keeps his hands behind his back -two fingers inside a sleeve.
"You agree. You agree? What does that suppose to mean?"
"That I would have done the same, even if she had taken the Mark." Severus tastes Black's magic. Like ice so cold that burns.
"How could you...? These people fought for...Did you wonder if anyone died? After?"
"No. What would be the point?"
"What would be the point? Are you fucking serious? They were good people."
"How do you know?" Severus asks simply. He doesn't want to. He wants to let Black lecture him about ethics and virtue and be done with that. Yet, some things never change. He can't stop himself from responding. Never could.
"What?"
"How do you know that they were good people? Because they fight for us? If someone is a rapist, a murderer does he automatically become good because you agree on one particular matter? Because he fights alongside you? I fight alongside you and you don't find me an especially good person." Severus raises his chin.
"I fucking know that they aren't." Black yells. "They work with Voldermort.."
Severus moves his hands, grabs his wand.
"You fucking idiot." Severus tells him. It throws Black off.
Severus hears the sounds in the distance.
"We have to go. Black. Now."
"Hogwarts?" Black asks.
"I won't drag death in a school full of students."
Black laughs. It's manic. It's a roar of mirth.
"You are a fucking contradiction." He says and they disappear.
_____
It takes three apparitions for them to escape. Severus has to send Albus a letter. The Forbidden Forest should be watched. He should plan an evacuation from school if needed. He believes that the man is smart enough to think it himself, he fears that he's arrogant enough to never do it.
They must warn Lily. It's a gamble to send a letter and Severus believes -knows- that the Fidelius would overcome the jinx, but still. A gamble to either direction, a coin tossed in the air.
"We haven't finished talking." Black says. The wind messes his hair. He seems crazy. Unbidden.
Severus wants to find a place for now. A cheap room on this shore, until the next move.
"Go on." He says. "But be quick. I don't have time for your lectures."
Black opens his mouth, moves the hair out of his face.
"Just, before you say anything." Severus stops him. In the end he doesn't want to hear what Black has to say. He is tired of ethics and rights, he is tired of always coming short. "Will you kill your brother when we meet him again? Do you want me to tell you in details in what missions he took part? What words escaped his mouth?"
"This isn't about the act." Black tells him.
"No? What is it about then?"
"That you feel no remorse. I can swallow being overwhelmed..."
"Overwhelmed?" The wind hits his face. "I assure you, everything I did, everything I do, is measured. It's not an impulse, a decision taken lightly."
"You...Do you realise that's worse?"
"And it worked in the end, didn't it?" Severus doesn't reply to Black's question. No more discussions. "I obtained a tip that's going to help your good guys."
"So? It's fine?"
"Narcissa treated me with a respect your mind can't comprehend."
Black laughs. It's accusatory.
"Is that what it's about? You being treated like royalty? Like they speak to each other as if they're most important people in the universe?"
"To be treated like a person." Severus tells him. He is moving his hands, he realises now, points to the ground. He is upset. He closes his eyes, takes a breath, opens them again. "Begin." He says. "We don't have all day. And do try not to mention his name this time."
_____
They don't talk after. Their feet sink into the sand and they walk slowly, until they reach the end of the beach, the start of concrete. An abandoned boat, faded blue wood, eaten by the salt and the weather decorates the entrance. The exit.
Snape stops. Turns around.
"Change your clothes." He says. "It's a Muggle town."
Sirius takes one moment to move his wand. But a moment is too late for Snape as it seems, because in the end he does it for him.
He turns around again, begins walking, without looking back to see if Sirius follows.
He does follow. Of course he does. He can't do anything else. Glued together.
He wants to talk to Remus, talk to him about anything as his friend keep listening.
He wants to meet Peter. He wants to tease him, until Peter will laugh delighted, a child in a man's body.
He craves to see James. To exist in the same room as him. To feel warm. To say nothing at all, just sit on a chair and watch as James talks and moves and exists.
"You have to send a letter to Potter." Snape says as if he reads his thoughts. As if he said them out loud. Maybe he did. "Tell him about the jinx."
"You said that letters could be traced."
"I know what I said." Snape replies.
They pass a shop that sells clothes. Two closed stores. Sirius looks at the sky. It's going to rain again. He stops, takes a few steps back and he asks the Muggle owner about a hotel, a room, anything.
She points to the direction they are walking.
They enter a faded pink building, a desk just a few feet to the left, a smiling looking guy welcomes them.
It takes a few strain answers from Snape and none from Sirius for his smile to seem frozen.
He still tells them that they should come back in the summer, that they town truly thrives then, in which Snape cuts his off, demands the key and pays two days upfront.
Sirius doesn't have any muggle money. On him at least. He has back at his flat, thrown in a drawer for the times he felt like he wanted to hit muggle bars.
The move up the stairs, until the find their room. It's small, but clean, a big painting of sunny shores above the two beds.
He hears the rain, hitting the windows. A fucking joke, which no one laughs.
He falls on the bed as Snape moves to the bathroom. He is obsessed with cleanness.
"I could apparate to James and be back in a minute." Sirius says.
They have to talk, to plan. Despite everything. It's easier to speak when they aren't looking at each other. But Snape is merciless and he exits. He stands on the doorframe, waiting for Sirius to repeat. He doesn't.
"You will send a letter." He says, resigned. Begins to go inside again.
"It will only take a minute." Sirius insists.
"I don't know the implications of the jinx, Black nor what happens after you step on it, like you did. You will send a letter."
"Are you jealous because you can't go?" Sirius asks. He doesn't want to. He doesn't even believe it.
"Send the letter, Black. You can survive without Potter for a time."
____
"I think the locket needs to go." Sirius says in the middle of the night. He keeps dreaming James dead, each death an accusation of betrayal. First him, then Remus, then Peter. Repeat.
He looks at the ceiling, his arms crossed on his chest.
"Did you think of a way to break it?" It's a mock, a tired one.
"We should hide it, until we figure out a way. I think it suffocates us, messes with our mind."
"We don't need Dark Magic for that."
Sirius smiles, soundless.
"We can't afford to lose it from our sight."
"We should give it to Reg. There's some nasty stuff in my old house. It will fit right in. You managed to hide it from Dumbledore."
There is a plastic table at the balcony outside the room, which moves with every hit of the wind.
"I'm not sure I did." And then. "It's risky."
"You can't do it all on your own." Sirius raises his voice for the first time since the morning. He doesn't move, not even his eyes.
"Watch me." Snape replies and it has that edge to it, the same one it had back at the cave, the same challenge.
Sirius takes a breath. It sounds too loud, even to his own ears.
"I do." He responds. A pause. "You have to trust me on this. I have survived until now. I must be doing something right."
"Being lucky.."
"Even that." Sirius turns. "Being lucky." Snape is sitting on the bed, his hands crosses. The line between his brows is there. He is thinking.
Sirius sits up too.
"The locket needs to go." Sirius states.
"Nothing assures me that your brother won't turn on us again. And if it's not that, that he won't break. I can't rely on a chance."
"Don't trust Reg. Trust my instincts."
Snape scoffs. Shakes his head.
"That is an even bigger gamble." He runs his fingers through his hair.
"Why? Because I'm incapable?"
Snape looks at him.
"Because you are chaos, Black, and I require order."
_____
Sirius is on the balcony smoking. Snape hasn't returned yet and it makes him feel on edge. They decided to separate for two hours. To throw any potential pursuers off.
Sirius made three jumps, another three just to be safe, until he found a random owlery to send the letter. He wanted to write four pages, a whole book, yet when the time came he only wrote about the jinx and a stay safe.
Snape agreed. After three nights. To follow Sirius' plan. His hands started trembling and he woke up sweaty, a boy Sirius had many years to see. So he agreed.
He agreed. And two hours have passed and he still isn't back. Maybe there were pursuers in the end, who followed him instead of Sirius.
They shouldn't separate. It was stupid. Two are better than one. A strength in numbers. A frantic move of his leg, on the floor splashing all over.
He hears the sound, the warmth of the magic. Like a fireplace.
"Where were you?" He asks, leaving a wet trail of shoes inside. "We said two hours. For someone who talks about punctuality and order so much, you are not very punctual yourself."
Snape stares at him, then the stains on the floor. Him again.
"Were you worried?" He starts removing his shoes. "I won't die so easily." A sigh, a stare on the floor. "Do try and keep the place clean as long as we are here."
Sirius looks down too. Then it registers that his socks are wet.
"There are spells for that." He mocks.
"There are spells for restraining, too." Snape tells him. "Moving around or being bound in that chair until tomorrow, won't make any difference."
Sirius thinks about making a nasty joke. Snape looks at him, as if he had already made it.
"So do we meet Reg tomorrow?" He asks.
"Yes. I hope your instincts are sharp." He touches his forehead with two fingers. As if this whole situation is giving him migraine, as if Sirius whole existence does. Yet he agreed. Out of necessity. But he still agreed.
"Where?" Sirius asks.
"The Shrieking Shack." Snape replies, sitting down. He doesn't look at him.
Sirius stays there, frozen. He wonders if this is a punishment. A petty choice, because Snape had no solid plan and Sirius offered one. Because for once, he isn't the one dictating the route.
If he wants Sirius to feel guilty. He did back then. He does now. A different kind of guilt.
Snape has his arms crossed. A tap of a finger on his arm. He is staring at the hideous painting of sunny beaches.
"If someone spots your brother near Hogsmeade, he can pretend he was working on an information regarding us. Since we were spotted at Hogwarts grounds." Snape says. "And we can both go in and out without anyone seeing us. We know how."
Snape's scared. There is no telling, but the lack of eye contact. There is no grand plan for guilt. It's just Snape working with the cards he has on his hands. He would like for different ones, but there are none and he is willing to push through the fear.
"We could..." Sirius starts, a cough to make his voice work naturally, properly.
Snape turns around. A sharp look, no tapping of fingers.
"And maybe your decisions will lead to my death this time."
Severus Snape has always fought back. He screamed. He hurt. He lashed out.
He never begged. He has no tolerance for pity.
Even if Sirius isn't offering that.