Seven
The passage remains the same. Sirius knows every pebble on the ground, every crook on the walls. He has passed through here countless times, he has smelled the air turning from leaves to dust, his companions beside him, different, but there, present, constant in every form. And at the end of it, an abandoned house, terrible in its neglect.
Yet, nothing of that mattered, because life was full, endless; life was a bond forged in four-poster beds, in mischief, in secrets behind greenhouses, in promises beside a lake, in a reckless decision just to be together. Because that was all that mattered. For them to be together. There was no obstacle, no foe too formidable if the four of them were together, nothing that couldn't be achieved.
He walks through the same passage now and life isn't endless, it's the next step, the next breath. His friends are somewhere far, somewhere that Sirius can't reach and when he finds them again, he isn't sure he will be able to recognise their figure in the crowd like before, just a shape, a half body, a strand of their hair. He isn't sure if they will recognise him. He isn't sure what scares him the most.
Now he smells the dust -a few steps and they will be there- and at his right there isn't a stag, glorious, magnificent in its striking posture. There is no guard in front of him, the small rat that would inform them of any dangers -unseen in his help.
Now there is only a man. To guard his front, his right and his left. A man, who walks in steady steps to cover his uneasiness that bleeds out from the constant checking of his wand.
Snape has taken this path only once, when Sirius sent him to his grave, because he thought it would be an appropriate punishment, a scare enough to leave Remus alone. He hadn't thought then, the consequences, that Snape could actually die, that Remus would become what scared him the most, a murderer.
He is thinking about it now. The consequences of meeting Reg, in whose death this decision will lead. Blood on his hands, because Sirius isn't whole. He is the shape of a person, half, torn in quarters. Reg was right. From Potter to here. Someone to balance him. To keep him steady.
Even if Snape doesn't make him steady. He's making him unbalanced, a pull of the nails in which Sirius has secured his restraints.
He always did. A little too far every time.
"In the slightest disturbance, we will leave. Immediately. I won't say it twice." He says and his voice is unshakeable too.
"Are you scared?" Sirius asks. Maybe he has it all wrong. Maybe he is the one who's scared.
"Is now the time to..."
"I am." Sirius tells him. About Reg betraying them. For the probability that he's not. About James and Lily and Harry. About Remus. About Peter.
About his instincts. That he's leading them to ruin, before they have a chance.
Snape has stopped walking. A shadow in the dark.
"Trust in yourself is something that nobody will give you." He says.
Sirius wants to argue. He wants to say that James had given it to him, a chance to be something more than his name, his upbringing, a trust that he, Sirius, was enough to be his friend, to be by his side. That the little craziness his blood carried through ages and generations, was his only, that it wasn't craziness at all.
"You chose this. Own your decision." Snape continues. "Think about what you will do, if your choice is wrong."
He can't see his face. It's just words. A voice in the darkness.
"What will you do?" Sirius asks. "If I chose wrong?"
A step. He sees his figure better. Not all. Just better.
"If my choice to go through with this plan proves to be wrong and your brother betrays us, I will kill him." It's chilling, not the words themselves, but how easy they come, that he had thought about it already. "And if he betrays us in a day, in a week, in a month, I will hunt him and kill him then. And before that, I will find his elf and make your brother tell me where the locket is. It's his weakness after all. Most people have one."
"What's yours?" Sirius speaks before he thinks better of it. "Lily." He answers himself.
Lily compels Snape to be a better version of himself. She makes him, the worst.
"Doesn't it scare you? For me to know?" A stalling, before the inevitable, that's what he's doing.
"No." Snape retreats, starts walking again. "Because she is tied to the happiness of yours."
_____
The shack is exactly as he remembers it. Pilling walls and dusty furniture. A chair with one leg broken. Hits and scratches, evidence that Remus was once here. At his most powerful, at his weakest.
Snape scans the room. Sirius wonders what he remembers when he looks at it.
"Homenum Revelio." Snape says, quietly, a whisper.
Reg is not here yet. Snape wanted to come early, to investigate the place, to choose their spot for defence.
Reg is not here. He doesn't know if that's good or bad.
A wand is pointing him upstairs. Paranoid and safe in a gesture.
They start to walk, to ascend with a minimum noise, barely none. Sirius has always been light-footed -a vast house doesn't mean anything if they can hear you- but Snape almost matches him.
The wind is hitting the closed windows, fortified and probably charmed to contain a werewolf.
It's going to be a cold winter. Snow will come in a while, covering the village and its buildings, as the students will wonder at its streets, challenging each other for a show of bravery -who's going to come closer to the haunted house that not even ghosts go.
They always won -him and James. It was cheating, Remus used to say.
Snape says the incantation again when they reach the end of the stairs. And Sirius watches as his face contracts and his steps halt. A finger at his lips, a hush unspoken, a secret between friends hidden after a mischief in alcoves of sleepy corridors.
He's been led towards a room -dragged is more precise- because Snape doesn't have the patience to wait, or it's a doubt that Sirius will not understand. He would have. He doesn't say anything, but follows.
They open the door, Snape is in front of him, a wand pointed at an empty room, as if he challenges the danger and he compels it to hide away.
There's no-one there. Yet Snape's posture doesn't change, a step inside, no flutter of his movements, no hesitation. A lowering of his hand, a flick of his wrist and a part of the floor explodes.
A rat appears, darting out of the bed.
"It's just..." Sirius begins, stops, his heart beats fast at his chest. "Peter?" He says and his voice fails him.
And after a moment too late, one moment to decide if he's paranoid, if his longing messes up with his head, the rat transforms into a person.
There he is, sitting on the floor, Peter, paler than before, skinnier, but still Peter. He would have recognised him everywhere. And all his previous worries vanish, because Peter is there.
He urges Snape out of the way, a resistance, but Sirius passes by him -he feels like running even though it's a few steps.
A crushing hug. Peter feels so small, so familiar.
Sirius is laughing. He's laughing, yet he feels like crying.
"Padfoot." A small voice, not to disturb, never to disturb. And then two hands around his waist. A long-lost clarity.
Sirius moves, puts his hands on his face, to assure himself that this is real. Peter is here. Peter is here. Another laugh. An uncertain smile as a response. The war got to Peter first. He used to be fidgety, but he grew shaky -slowly at first and then fast.
"Pete." He says again. He stops. He will cry otherwise. And he can't cry in front of Peter. Sirius is the shoulder to cry on, not the other way around.
"I'm so glad you're here." Peter says, exhales. "I was so worried."
"Pettigrew." Snape talks, he's closer than before, close enough to almost feel him. "What are you doing here?"
Peter's gaze flickers to Snape -between the four of them, Peter was the one afraid of Snape- then he looks at Sirius again.
"I went to James and no one was there. The house was empty." He seems like he's about to cry. "Is James alright?"
"Yes. Yes." Sirius smiles. "Don't worry. You know James would survive anything with a shake of his head and a laughter."
Peter nods, looks down.
"I was scared. You know we had to do the Fidelius and then James wasn't there. And I didn't know what to do."
Sirius forces his face to keep a warm expression. Neutral. They are lying to Peter. He has told James that their friend is sure to forgive them.
Another side glance at Snape, but when he talks he addresses Sirius only.
"I didn't know what to do." He says and he's on the verge of breaking.
"It's okay, you did your best."
Snape scoffs. Sirius ignores him.
"And then I heard that you were seen here and I thought maybe you have come to the shack and I came here and waited."
"By who?" Snape asks and Peter turns to him.
"What do you mean?" He looks at the floor when he speaks.
"I mean Pettigrew, where did you obtain this information?"
"Someone from the Order said..."
"Who?" Snape has moved, a step beside Sirius, another and he's almost between them.
Peter swallows, Snape is making him nervous, almost a head taller than him, imposing and demanding in a way Peter can't bear.
"So do you know where James is?" He asks Sirius again. Guilt is a knife to the heart. "I'm losing my mind. Has something happened to him? Is it my fault?" He's pleading for reassurance. One Sirius can give him. He can tell him all about the change, that it's not him that is wrong. If he does, then Peter would probably not hate them after.
"Black we have to go." Snape cuts through his thoughts. "Now."
"Are you leaving?" Peter clutches Sirius arms. Desperate. Afraid. "You will take me with you, right?"
"Yes." Sirius says and it collides with Snape's. "No."
"We can't leave him here. They will come for him."
"Black." Snape is angry. "I have already said it twice." He is staring at him. "We're leaving."
"Padfoot, please, don't leave me." Peter holds his jacket and Sirius sees every plea, every shaky exhale, every hold they've shared these ten years. "Maybe, I can go to James, do you know where he is? I can go there, do the Fidelius and then I'll stay with them. To help. I will keep them company, until this is over."
Sirius is ready to tell him. This is his friend who's scared, this is his mate, his brother.
"That is impossible." Snape says. "We've already done the Charm."
Sirius is looking at him, to remind him about the Vow. He can't say it.
"I am their Secret Keeper." Snape says and it's arrogant. "Lily and I decided that it was the most efficient choice and Potter agreed. So, there is no point of trying to convince Black to tell you. He doesn't know."
Four sentences, all lies.
Snape drags him away. It's only a step, before Sirius realises it and forces his feet to stop.
"Why would James do that?" The words come out hopeless.
"Because a coward who crawls under beds can't protect his family." Snape almost spits every word. He doesn't understand. Sirius wants to tell him that not everyone can be like him. He wants to shut his mouth for speaking to Peter like this.
"What a lovely gathering." A voice from behind them. Three wands drawn.
Reg stands by the door, ready to attack. The expression he had back at Snape's room is nowhere to be found.
Here with his wand aimed at them, with his black robes and his stern expression, he is an enemy, he is their parents' son.
"What is he doing here? What's going on?" Peter says. Sirius is in front of him -a wall to block any attack. He sounds frantic.
"Did you follow us here?" Snape asks. "It seems we left a larger trail than we wanted." Then Reg face does something, a blink, a moment like he's having a conversation, a recognition.
"The intel spoke of two, not three." Reg is saying.
Subtle moves, like they're discussing with each other something else entirely. Sirius can only tell, because he has spent too much time with both of them. Because he knows them.
"Maybe you should turn around and leave." Snape tells him. "Try your luck another time."
"Perhaps three are too much for me." Reg says. "I can wait for your next slip."
Snape almost nods.
"No." Peter says and Sirius turns around. There's a knife on his hands, he will try to take down Reg. Perhaps in an attempt to make himself worthy.
And then he moves, a little too forward, a little too straight.
"I'm sorry Siri." He says and Sirius can't understand what he's sorry for. Is it for trying to kill Reg?
A beat of his heart, a blink, that's all it takes.
Snape is in front of him. A body between him and a knife.
"You are so troublesome." Peter tells him. He looks at Snape, then a step behind, away.
Peter's hands are red. They are red, but he doesn't seem hurt.
"Worthless." Snape says and it's deadly. He's still in front of him. "We need to leave. Now."
"I don't think so." Peter's voice is almost steady. "It's two against two." He looks behind Sirius. "Snape is Potters' Secret Keeper. We have to take him to the Dark Lord."
Sirius has his wand up. Aimed at his friend, his mate, before his mind registers the movement.
His other hand is on Snape's shoulder.
"What did you say?" He can't. He can't. There is no universe that he will hurt Peter. That Peter will hurt them. They did the whole painful animagus process together just to keep Remus company.
And then he raises his sleeve. There, on a hand that had held him for ten years, that had hugged James on his wedding, that had picked up Harry, is a mark. A dark betrayal.
"You fucking coward." Sirius screams. "You fucking traitor." He yells, spells flying around aimlessly. Snape had said that it takes intentional murder for the soul to split. No. This is what it takes. His soul feels ripped apart, scattered pieces under the unbearable weight of betrayal. "We are your friends." His throat feels like bleeding the words out.
"I'm sorry." He says, but his wand points at Sirius. "We all do what we have to survive. You joined forces with him." A drawn down smile. A nothing.
"I'm gonna kill you." Sirius tells him and his throat is dry, his voice comes from deep within his lungs. Air that has stuck there and it's eager to go out. Fire, he thinks, to burn him alive, to burn everything. The incantation at the tip of his tongue.
But Peter, the bastard, that fucking rat -how much more sense it makes now- doesn't aim at him. No, he fires at Snape.
Sirius forgets about fire, and burning.
"Protego." He says and it feels like an unconscious reflex.
An attack comes at him from behind -aimed poorly -or too precise- because Sirius turns just enough to look at Snape. He's bleeding.
A side glance at Reg.
"Can we take them?" Reg asks Peter, but he looks at Sirius, and a point of his eyes at Snape's body, an attempt at communication.
They used to do that a lot, back at the house, glances and movements like messages not spoken aloud.
"We don't need both of them alive." Peter says and Sirius wants to rip his mouth apart -he wants to fall down and cry.
Snape moves -with a precision a bleeding man shouldn't have, with grace just to taunt his opponent, he moves and he replies to Peter, he finds the words, while Sirius can't speak.
"You are going to die, Pettigrew." He says and it's enough to make Peter fall back a step. "Even if it's not here, not now, I will make sure you die a painful death. Scums like you deserve as much."
Peter opens his mouth, half an incantation, but Snape is faster, always was.
"Sectumsempra." A word as unfamiliar as the spell. It catches on Peter's finger and he cries. Only then Sirius releases that Snape isn't as fine as he sounds. He misfired, he wanted to catch Peter whole.
He goes for another attempt, but this time Peter wins.
"Voldemort." He says and they all know what it means. Sirius thinks that after ten years, only now he realises that Peter is smart, cunning.
"We have to take them down." Reg says. "You shouldn't give them the chance to escape from the tunnel."
"Yes, yes." Peter's hand shakes, he is bleeding, he can't keep his wand steady. "What the fuck did you do to me?" He cries out.
"Imagine it in your whole body. Imagine it and it will still be worse." Snape satisfaction travels in his voice with every shake of Peter's hand.
Sirius wants to stay. He wants to watch Snape do it. He wants to learn how to do it himself.
But the place will swarm with Death Eaters soon and Snape is bleeding. He's bleeding, because of a decision Sirius took yesterday -ten years before.
"Let's go." Sirius drags him away. The defeat of retreat tastes bitter in his mouth as the words form. But if they die, it won't matter. Peter is right on that. Survival is what matters now. James had figured it out before him.
Sirius wraps them in a shield. Reg is still at the door.
"Get them. Get them." Peter yells between curses that bounce to his shield, unable to find a target.
Reg nods. Sirius knows what he wants them to do. He hopes he knows. He believed a lot of things that aren't true since this morning.
"Crus.." Reg begins, a bit too dragged out, a bit too late.
"Stupefy." Snape says without hesitation and they run.
_____
Kreacher is waiting in the tunnel. Because Reg isn't stupid, he came here with a back-up plan, prepared.
Kreacher is waiting in the tunnel with an order: if Reg doesn't come back, Kreacher will take Snape to safety. Because Reg isn't an emotional foul, he isn't even emotional enough to care about his own safety. Reg wants Voldemort to fall and he puts his bets on Snape.
So Kreacher takes them and they land in a vast abandoned living room covered in dust.
"Kreacher hides here. Master Regulus said that Kreacher has to hide, because Kreacher is dead." The elf mumbles. He isn't happy taking them with him. But he won't disobey Reg's orders.
"Master Regulus said that Kreacher has to listen to Severus Snape. Kreacher will do what Severus Snape wants." He says and it's almost as he dares Snape to order him.
"A factional bathroom." Snape says and Kreacher scoffs.
"He's bleeding." Sirius yells.
"Kreacher doesn't want half-blood stains on the floor."
Sirius almost grabs him, but Kreacher snaps his fingers and vanishes.
The bathroom is barely clean, barely factional. But Snape doesn't seem to mind as he sits on the edge of a black marble bathtub.
Sirius paces around on the room. Too big for a bathroom, too black.
"I should have stayed." He says.
"And do what exactly?" Snape asks as he begins to undress.
"I should have killed him. Fuck I will kill him." Sirius can barely master a solid thought. It's mostly frames of a scene, Peter is there and Sirius's hugging him, Peter is there and he's trying to kill them.
Snape tries for a scoff, but he grinds his teeth instead. Sirius stops, turns to him.
"Let me help." He says. Guilt. That's a solid feeling.
Snape shakes his head. He presses his lips in a thin line.
"It's not like I haven't seen you before." It should have been a joke, it's a pleading.
"Two for two." Snape says. "Maybe the third time, you will manage to kill me in that awful house."
"Yeah. Fuck. Sorry." He doesn't look at Snape, because he's right. Because he fucking knew. Suspected it. He had the intelligence to not trust Peter. James would have died otherwise.
James would have been dead, because of Sirius' insistence.
"Bring me my bag." Snape says. An order. A place to start.
Sirius turns, Snape's bag is at the door. He lifts it and his hands are shaking.
When he brings it to Snape, the man has already opened his shirt, a wound at the left side of his stomach. Deep blue lines like veins reach his chest.
Snape coughs. Subtle, hidden behind his hand. His, too shake.
"What is this?" Sirius breaths fast.
"A curse." Snape replies simply. As if he just told him...What? Like he told him what? Is there anything that Snape says that's simple?
"What does it? How?" A solid thought. He needs a solid thought.
I'm sorry Siri.
"I suspect the knife was coated with a poison." Snape tries to look, bends his body, groans from the effort. "Not that Pettigrew is smart enough to do something that would kill me." He adds when he actually manages to look.
"We have to...A medi-wizard...Saint Mungo's...We have to go there." Because Sirius is stupid enough to do what Peter can't. Because Sirius should be the one sitting on the edge of the bathtub, purple blood covering the skin, dropping on the floor.
"It's purple." Sirius says, but his voice sounds foreign. Oh, great, he's crying. He should. Snape should see him and laugh at his face. He deserves that. They both do.
Fingers tight at his jaw. One on the right side, four at the left. A lift of his face. He realises now that his knees touch the floor.
"Focus." Snape tells him. "The curse is troubling, I suspect a numbness will come soon, but nothing I can't counter with a potion."
Sirius nods. Snape isn't satisfied. He doesn't takes his fingers away.
"Pettigrew is a scum and he will die. I will personally make sure of it." A cough and Sirius feels his breath rising. "Focus." Snape tells him. And Sirius does. He focuses on the strength of the fingers, of Snape's eyes -demanding, like the rest of him- of the voice it comes out of his mouth, of the move of his lips. "Focus."
Sirius nods again.
"Good." Snape says. "Now, open my bag." He puts both hands at the black marble, grabs at it hard. "Find a potion that says...Are you dense? Engorgio."
"Yes, yeah, right."
Snape is disapproving, disappointed with the level of stupidity he has to work with.
He isn't hateful. He isn't laughing.
"Good." A move, he tries to sit down on the floor. Sirius wonders if death were to be an entity and Snape were to met it, would he be as impassive as now? A bitter remark, a condescending stare?
Sirius helps him, because it seems like the man can't get his feet to work properly.
Snape lets him take his hand, he lets Sirius handle his body weight. He doesn't know if it's out of pity or resign.
"Counter curse." Snape tells him.
"That's a..."
"Counter curse, Black. And then Blood-Replenishing and Healing salve."
Sirius follows the instructions. He finds a bottle with a thick golden liquid inside and he gives it to Snape.
He watches as he drinks it, as he murmurs incantation that Sirius can't understand, that he can't hear even if he's close. Only a bag between them. Sirius can't stop looking, he can't stop trying to understand what Snape is saying, that sounds almost like a hush, a soft whisper. A soothing at an open wound.
And he watches still, as Snape stops, demands for the next item, and then the next. He watches as he puts the salve at his skin, above the wound and he wishes this stillness will continue a little while longer, just a moment, so his thoughts of what happened won't come crush down on him.
He wishes for Snape to ask for another item, for them to stay on the floor for a breath longer. But Snape is nothing but efficient and the moment passes, as he puts the vials back at their proper place.