Ten
The sun must have set by the time he finally stops crying. He isn't sure, he can't be, his eyes are closed, his face still hidden between Snape's neck and the start of his shoulder.
Snape hasn't said anything after Sirius's pleading -it was pleading, even if he never begged. He had just taken a few steps, his back hit the bare tree, Sirius hands still clenched his robes.
He is holding them still with just enough force to stop either of them from moving. He doesn't know where they are, a few blurry glimpses, Snape, a tree, Snape again.
He has to move. He has to face the man, before he speaks. He has to find the courage to match his stare, to acknowledge what has happened.
He broke down, actually lost it in a way he’d joked about so many times in the past. He broke down as he did in bathrooms many times in his youth, but this one was loud, clear. It was a collapse watched by another person.
"It's freezing." Sirius says, because it's true, because he wants to hear a voice before he looks.
Snape doesn't answer. A shift in his arms, and Sirius panics, holding Snape in place.
He feels the warmth after a breath, Snape's magic around it. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry some more.
"It's November." Snape offers a response. A fact, a word with which he hides any decency.
Sirius laughs, open mouthed and broken. Just a little more, he thinks, just a little more and he will move. He opens his eyes, but Snape’s hair covers his field of vision.
"Where are we?" He asks, another attempt for grounding, for normalcy.
"Cokeworth." Snape replies and Sirius feels the move of the muscles around his neck as he speaks. The only thing that shifts, because Snape is perfectly still.
He has to face him.
"Didn't you say that's dangerous coming here?" He asks instead.
Snape stays silent, a heartbeat too long.
"It was a hasty apparation." He says. "If I wanted to avoid splinching, I had to think of something fast."
Sirius moves his head a little, just enough to look. With his back bent like this, he has to raise his gaze to meet Snape's side stare.
"Not to your taste?" Snape says, and Sirius’s mouth forms a befuddled smile that quickly turns into laughter.
"I don't think I have the right to complain."
"But you always do anyway." Snape replies and Sirius watches a crooked tooth when Snape talks, visible from this angle.
"Are you going to kill me for this?" Sirius asks and he means all of it. His recklessness, his mistake, his breakdown.
"Perhaps tomorrow."
Sirius smiles, straightening his body to match Snape's height.
"The thrill of anticipation." Sirius jokes.
Snape looks at him impassively. His eyes move barely to Sirius's faces as if he's searching for danger, for another falling apart.
Sirius removes his hands from him as an answer.
His robes are creased at his arms, where Sirius had so desperately clung to them. There is a darker spot at the end of his shoulder, where Sirius cried.
Snape moves his hand, touching it. Then his wand to erase it.
"No, I will do it, I will..." Sirius says and he already pointing his own wand.
Snape glares at him, but Sirius has to do it—has to offer something to break the awkwardness. He hits Snape's robes with the charm -too much force- and he knows he has made the atmosphere worse.
Snape presses his lips, closing his eyes. He opens them again and Sirius thinks that his death won't wait for tomorrow.
A breath.
"We’ll stay here for today," he says, irritation apparent in his voice. "We need to gather our strength and think about the next step." A glare. "I suppose you still have the box."
Sirius searches his pocket, a momentary panic until he touches the item.
"Of course." He says and Snape shakes his head.
"And what will we do before you kill me tomorrow?" Sirius asks.
Snape looks at him, then behind him. Sirius turns to see what's he's starring at. Lights are starting to appear as the night settles in.
"Tomorrow we'll go and see if my father finally managed to die."
When Sirius turns around again, Snape is searching his bag for the tent.
______
Neither of them sleep. Snape wraps them around warming charms, as Sirius casts Muggle-repelling ones.
They sit outside the tent, a starless sky above them.
Sirius takes out his pack -four cigarettes remaining- this night calls for one.
"Why are we going to your house?" He asks, without looking at Snape by his side.
"To check if my trail led someone here." Snape replies. "And to see if there is anything salvageable."
"Salvageable." Sirius repeats as the night covers the real face of this place.
"We need money." Snape says. "There is nothing valuable there, a few books and anything that my father has managed not to sell, but they'll sustain us for a few days."
"I have money." Sirius turns, Snape has a sour expression on his face. "It's stupid to sell your things for a few days worth."
"They are not my things." Snape is stubbornly looking elsewhere. His chin is resting on his knees, hair falling down at his sides. He seems younger for a moment, how he would be at school when was alone, when no-one was looking. "And I guarantee you, things from my house have been sold for less."
"What if he's there?" Sirius asks, and it's foolish, he realises it as he says it. Snape has been cordial and Sirius is ruining it.
"Who?" The question comes as an opportunity Sirius shall take. Snape knows what he is been asked for, his clenched jaw reveals as much.
"Your dad." But Sirius has always been reckless. Foolishly reckless.
"Did I give you the impression that I can't handle him the last time we were there?" A side glance.
"It's not a matter of handling." Sirius says, the cigarette burns him as he throws it down.
Snape removes his hands from his knees, putting them at the ground just behind his back. A challenge, almost an entertainment.
"Do tell me what the matter is, then."
"You don't want to go." Sirius lights another one. Ah, his last smokes burnt because Snape is...Snape. That.
"I do a lot of things I don't want to, Black. And as I've proven repeatedly I'm very good at doing so."
Sirius feels the guilt, the burning shame of the words. He is supposed to help, but they’ve been dragged here because he can’t handle betrayal. This is war—people are dying, missing, betrayed every day. Remus is alone between monsters. James worries about the safety of his son.
"Erase that expression." Snape cuts through his thoughts. "You are not the centre of the universe." He looks at the sky. "We needed to get out of that cabin anyway. Your little feat changed nothing of would have happened anyway."
Snape leans back a little, his palms support his weight. If there was any form of light here, Sirius could see his veins.
He wears Muggle clothes now -his robes casted aside as a precaution. He could be anyone, Sirius thinks, not Snape who sneered at corridors and threw nasty jinxes at every chance -well deserved or not. Not the boy who infuriated James, because he clung close to Lily at every turn. Not the ugly, smelly Snivellus, a caricature for Sirius entertainment.
No, this somebody, whose hair fly through the wind, who looks at the sky and plans for things Sirius can't even fathom, he isn't Snape. Or a Snape, Sirius knows. Perhaps Lily does. Perhaps that's what she is used to see, to watch all her life, perhaps that's why he is so dear to her.
"Did you come here often? You and Lil's?"
"Yes. There aren't many forms of entertainment in Cokeworth." A side glance and back at the sky.
"How was she?" Sirius asks because he can't ask how were you.
"Same as you met her." He says. He doesn't seem he will indulge him any further, but then he continues. Maybe because they are talking about Lily. "Funny, bright, fierce. The first time we met, she didn't know she was a witch. When I told her she got very mad." A hidden smile, barely there, barely visible.
"Why?"
"Telling a Muggle girl that they are a witch implicates a mockery." Another stare. "You wouldn't understand."
"Because Muggles don't know..."
"Because being a witch means something dark, something different. A great amount of Muggle history which I won't explain to you now." A sigh, hidden like the smile before. "But she returned. Curious about the word. About me. She has a way to see things that many people cannot." He moves his eyes away, as if he doesn't want to talk about Lily with anyone else but himself. "She was fascinated with magic, and I was fascinated with her." A breath through his nose.
"It's so..." He tries to find the word, fails. "Weird. The way you talk about her. When I've seen how you talk about everyone else."
Snape frowns, thinking that maybe he had said too much. His palms flex, he will try to get up, to leave. But Sirius want him to stay. Tomorrow they will run towards danger, maybe they will die. They will surely fight. Tomorrow Snape will explain another plan, which Sirius will find absurd and they will bicker. Something unexpected might happen. Sirius doesn't know.
What he knows is that he wants Snape to keep talking.
"You like Arthur." He blurts out. "You speak nicely about Arthur too."
Snape titls his head to the side.
"Arthur Weasley is a reliable man." He says. "I don't favour him, I'm talking about him like he's supposed to be talked about."
"You've gotten him a watch." Sirius tells him. "And all this bullshit about Muggles giving free stuff every month."
Snape straightens his back, his hands falls on his slightly parted knees.
"They have many children, Black." He says as if he's accusing Sirius of something. "Nothing to spare for themselves. A cheap watch won't make a difference to me."
"You have nothing to spare either." Sirius tells him.
"I prefer to spend money for a father that's sacrificing his own needs for his children, than to buy you a pack of cigarettes." Snape gets up.
"Fuck, you can't even understand what I'm saying."
Sirius tries to get up too, he manages to sit on his knees, before Snape comes and stands in front of him.
"What do you want, Black?"
"Why do you like Arthur and not Molly?" Sirius says because he can't bring himself to point out the implications of Snape's words about fathers.
"Why do you like her?" A glare. "Let me guess. Because she hugs you and she loves you and she finds your little rebellious side adorable. Because in all your dissimilarity, you fit."
Snape bends his knees. He is in front of him now.
"Molly Weasley looks at you and she sees a child that will grow up and will fit perfectly in her little family. She sees me and she's disturbed that I am sitting in her kitchen. She won't say it of course, she isn't cruel, she doesn't have to." Snape's breath hits his face. "It doesn't matter, it's the way she views the world. Arthur, on the other hand, is curious about anything different, not disturbed."
"I'm not disturbed." Sirius says and Snape backs down a little.
"What?" He asks in which Sirius replies. "Let's go to Gringotts."
Snape gets up and Sirius follows.
"Make a plan. It will solve our money problem. Not just for a few days."
Sirius feels like it's worth the risk. He feels like how he once did when James and him thought of something insane and they pulled it through.
"Abandoning caution..."
"Going to your house isn't caution." Sirius tells him. "If they had searched, they would know where you live. Going there is stupid."
Snape frowns. He tries to unravel the puzzle of Sirius uncoordinated thoughts. He fails.
"We are not going to Gringotts." He says.
"We are not going to your house." Sirius answers.
Snape grabs his shirt, looking at him like he doesn't know what else to do.
Sirius feels accelerated. Tomorrow everything will come back to him again. But tonight is a breath of fresh air, a moment's freedom.
"You don't owe me, Black." He says. "Whatever idiotic thought is passing through your mind, let it flee. I don't need saviours."
Snape fists the front of his shirt tighter, then he relishes it in one move, pushing him away.
_____
When he wakes up, the sky is still a deep blue. The warming charms have faded, so he casts them again. Black is still sleeping on the other side of the tent.
Severus knows that sleep won’t come again—one or two hours, and he’s done with it. He takes his coat, opening the entrance just enough to sit. The cold of the November morning hits him, but his back still holds the warmth from the inside.
Coming here was a mistake. He keeps circling back to this thought. Choosing this place was a miscalculation on his part. It reminds him of Lily too much, of a hope for a future that didn't come. Of dreams of safety, less cruelty, acceptance, if he held on a little longer.
Lily was the first of many who would see. She painted a picture of a world that didn't exist.
That it was this place, this town that was the problem, this family, and when he finally left, everything would be different.
It turned out that here and there, they had no difference at all.
Black has dropped his package of cigarettes on the ground. Severus opens them, two left, before Black starts to complain. He takes one out and lights it. What difference does it make? One or two.
He used to smoke on occasion, at school, when older people like Lucius offered him elegant smoking pipes, carved with initials and elaborate details. Herbs, expensive, burnt for a moment's pleasure.
He takes a drag, exhales.
He used to smoke randomly later, just for a while, just when he went out to Muggle bars in secret, to see if his inexperience could be cured, if there was a space for him to be, in place where others were hiding too.
It was wrong that thought too. The few that approached asked questions that he couldn't answer, where did he work, where did he go to school, why, where, how.
It was fine that his attitude chased them away. He hadn't gone for the conversations, or to make friends. He only went for the practicality of it.
So he stuck with a practical group. Married men didn't need to know what he did with his life, they didn't care, fleeting passengers of those places, like him, living another life, which they wanted to protect.
Another drag -a reminder of those days.
He hopes that when Black wakes up, he will have discarded those foolish thoughts of going to his vault. It's a risk they can't afford to take. A risk that Black proposes for a dept he thinks he must fulfill because of the heighten emotions in the dawn of his breakdown.
Unnecessary and futile.
Tobias -if he's even alive- can't hurt him. It's unpleasant to see him -more than- but he can't do anything other than yell and scream at this point. It's something that he would rather not do, but a small price in the grand scale of things.
The only right assessment is that going to his house is risky too. He suspects that Black uses logic, not because he believes it, but for the sole purpose of making Severus agree.
Another slow drag.
Irrelevant, all of this. The pressing matter remains. Where to go next?
If they waste much time waiting, Voldemort could find out that the pieces he'd so carefully hidden have vanished.
And even if they find the rest of the Horcruxes, it would mean nothing if they don't find a way to destroy them.
Severus presses his thumb to his forehead. He hears Black stir in his sleep. A murmur next, a slow exhale. A sign that whatever dream, or nightmare he was seeing, passed.
Severus gets up.
_____
"What is that?" Sirius asks as they're packing their things.
Snape takes a moment to turn and when he does he barely looks at what Sirius is holding.
Another turn as he answers.
"I presume a package of cigarettes." He opens his bag, checking the potions as he does every fucking day, then closes it, shrinking it.
"It's unopened." Sirius tells him.
"Congratulations. It will keep you sustained for another two days, if you use them wisely."
"Where did it come from?" Sirius has stopped whatever he was doing to watch Snape casually gathering the rest of their things.
"Do I need to keep track of your belongings now?" Snape asks without stopping.
"I didn't have a spare. You know that."
Snape turns, he looks tired, like this conversation exhausts him.
"How much you smoke is the least of my problems, Black, as long as you don't whine about it. You found a package. Good for you."
"You bought it." Sirius tells him and it's spoken like an accusation. Perhaps it is. "How?"
If he went alone to his house after they had agreed not to...
"You have your smoke, Black. Now be useful and pack up your stuff. Stop pestering me about it."
Sirius wants to punch him, grab him—do something to him.
"We have two Horcruxes and no clue on how to destroy them. Maybe you could use your mind for that, a real problem.
"Did you go alone?" Sirius asks, taking a step.
A glance, a warning.
"Also, we are unclear of their real number. Perhaps we should go to Hogwarts library, search the history of it -there is a book on the matter." His hands touch his temples. "And as a last resort, we will consult Albus."
"Did you go? When I specifically told you not to?" Sirius repeats.
Snape glares at him.
"We're supposed to work as a team. You know, trust." A move of his hand between them. "I can't believe you. If I went to Gringotts alone, you would be unbearable."
"As you are right now? Or any time you don't..."
"Fuck you." Sirius says. "You know I'm right on this." A point of his finger. "And for what? For a few days? I can starve for a few days, for longer than that."
Snape's throat contracts. He's angry. Well, Sirius is angry too.
"I didn’t go to my house," he says. "And I suggest you remember what you said about starving, because we still don’t have money," Snape states, his tone final.
"But..."
Now," he stops him. "Hogwarts. The library. Think you can handle reading?"
____
"What are you going to tell Dumbledore?" Sirius follows as Snape works his way to another apparition. They seem random, a necessary precaution to make their trace disappear.
Another swirl, before he finishes his question.
"Hey, we disappeared from the face of the earth, but can we check your library real quick?"
"If I have to, I will tell him a part of the truth. Follow." Snape says and he touches his arm.
Another apparation.
"Which is?" Sirius asks when they land.
"That we're working on something to bring the Dark Lord down. Follow."
"And you think..?" But his voice is lost, because he has to fucking follow.
"Stop for a fucking second." Sirius says. He catches the distant smell of the sea.
"We've been followed." Snape tells him. "Fo.." But this time his sentence is left unfinished.
"The elf." Snape says and Sirius turns around.
There, behind them Kreacher stands, trembling along with the once white cloth he's wearing.
"What are you doing here?" Sirius moves past him. "Reg told you to..."
"How did you follow us?" Snape asks.
"Kreacher follows the magic of the one who killed him." He looks at Snape.
"I've never..." Snape starts, but Kreacher slaps his palm on his thigh. "The locket."
Kreacher nods.
"Master Regulus is in danger. Kreacher knows that. Kreacher came to beg Severus Snape to save Master. Kreacher will do anything." He says and he falls to the ground, his head hitting the concrete.
Sirius follows suit, bending his knees.
"What do you mean? Did Vol.."
"Black." Snape interrupts just in time to stop him.
"Master Regulus hasn't come back for Kreacher. Kreacher waits and waits, but Master doesn't come. So Kreacher goes back to the House."
"Are you stupid? Reg said.." Sirius raises his voice.
"Kreacher has to know that Master is well. He goes back to the house. Kreacher knows the house better than anyone, Kreacher knows how to go in and out without anyone seeing him. Kreacher hears the Masters talking, he hears that Master is in danger, he hears that the Masters are searching for the black sheep." He raises his gaze barely enough to look at Sirius. "But the Masters can't find him, because Severus Snape hides him. Kreacher knows that, but he can't tell, because Master Regulus says Kreacher needs to protect Severus Snape."
Sirius turns his eyes on Snape. He is pointing his wand at Kreacher. A flick of his wrist -it's always the wrist, the rest of his hand remains steady- and Sirius tries to stop him.
"Get up." Snape commands and Sirius barely feels a warmth where his hand touches Kreacher.
The elf stops shaking.
Sirius remembers that he has things he wants to ask, irrelevant of the reason Snape enveloped Kreacher in a heating charm.
"Why do they want to talk with me?"
"The Masters said that Sirius Black can save his brother."
"Forget it." Snape says, even before Sirius can open his mouth.
Snape stands firmly, unmoving, his arms crossed.
"What if they discovered him?"
"If they had, he would be dead by now." Snape presses his lips. "Forget it."
Sirius turns to Kreacher. He is crying silently. He cried silently that first time too, when he was hit because Regulus misbehaved.
"Can you take me to the house?"
"Black." Snape says as Kreacher nods.
"You will take me there and then you will leave. Go back and wait as Reg asked."
"Black."
"Is anyone else at the house besides my parents?"
"No, the Masters are alone." He has stopped crying. "Kreacher will help. Kreacher will owe his life. Kreacher swears."
Sirius shakes his head, turning to Snape.
"I’ll tell you the secret,” Sirius says, making sure Kreacher won’t understand. "And then you will go and change it yourself."
"Are you stupid?” Snape asks, his voice casual in a way that seems completely out of place in this situation. "It's out of the question. Your brother knows the risks. So do you."
"You asked me once, who would I choose, James or Reg. I choose both." Sirius tells him.
Snape takes a step, his shoes echoing on the road. Another. His eyes never waver, and Sirius has his full attention, and for a moment he wonders if Snape will hit him with a spell to stop him. It doesn't matter. As soon as he wakes up, he will leave. He has to go. He has to know if Reg...
"You will go to the house and you will leave a letter to your masters." Snape addresses Kreacher, but he looks at Sirius. "Leave it somewhere visible, but you will make sure you won't be seen. If you even think of betraying us I will make sure Regulus Black dies. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Kreacher understands."
"Good." Severus says, a side glance at Kreacher.
"What are you planning?" Sirius asks him and he regrets it as Snape's stare returns to him -sharp, murderous.
"I will not lose this war because of your reckless stupidity." Snape tells him. "The next time you propose anything like this, I will stun you and lock you up."
Sirius is sure that Snape hasn't blink once.
"Now, begin to write."
_____
Snape hasn't looked at him once since he dictated the context of the letter. They are sitting in a busy café by the window and Snape is looking outside as the vast crowd of Muggles moves along the pavement.
This is the place Snape chose for them to meet the estimated Mr and Mrs Black.
He wants people, lots of them, so if anything happens they could blend in and leave. It's a solid plan, better than Sirius's.
Except they won't come. Walburga Black will never set foot in a coffee shop, let alone a Muggle one, and Orion would rather poison himself and die than sit on a yellow-painted wooden chair.
He wants to tell Snape that. They're wasting their time. But Snape taps his finger on his thigh, as though he's counting the seconds, as if his impending explosion is timed to occur at his choosing.
Sirius knows what he’s thinking. They should have been to Hogwarts by now, reading ancient books and searching for clues about Horcruxes. Not trying to save Sirius's brother.
Except Sirius offered to go alone.
Except it doesn't matter, because they're glued together.
"They are here." Snape says and nothing else.
Sirius watches as they pass by them in front of the window. They can be hardly missed, wearing their black robes, laces and purple jewellery decorate them.
They didn't even try to blend in, he thinks as he follows them with his gaze as they open the door and walk inside.
Why would they, Blacks don't blend in with insects.
Sirius guts turn, they haven't seen each other since he left his house at sixteen.
His father is the first to spot him, a whisper and his mother turns.
Ah, there they are, a distasteful smile as if they'd smelled something rotten, an arch of an eyebrow, and a mocking sigh.
They walk towards the table, stopping when they reach it. They stand on their feet a flickering glance at Snape and then to him.
"You continue to be a disappointment." His mother says with an exaggerated look around.
And what an opening line.
Sirius takes his cigarettes out and lights one. The look on their faces is worth it.
"Good to see you too." He says with a lopsided smile. He wants to vomit. He wants to scream. "Are you trying to grow tall?" A move of his fingers in their direction. "I think you are a little too old for this."
Two sighs, perfectly synchronized.
"You can laugh." Sirius tells them. "I'm hilarious."
A waiter comes close and in order to prevent him from touching them, they sit down across from him.
Sirius laughs as the man looks at them with a mix of surprise and caution. He thinks they are mad. He's right.
"Do you need anything?" He asks and because Sirius is afraid they will murder him on the spot he answers to him, himself.
"Water is fine. They won't be staying."
"This is utter humiliation." His mother speaks as soon as the man leaves.
"I'm having a great time." Sirius says. Another grin.
"I can't believe you're..." An angry exhale. "While your brother." He clenches her fists on her robe.
His mother looks at Snape. Sirius hasn't dared to turn his head.
"We have matters to discuss alone." She tells him, dismissive as if Snape is a servant of hers and she's swooing out.
No reply. Sirius doesn't know what kind of face Snape is making.
"Did you hear me?" She asks and Sirius realises that Snape is still looking outside the window. A hit of the table. An inherited anger.
Sirius hates it. He hates more that he wants to hit it too. Smash it to the ground.
"Where's Reg?" Sirius asks and they both turn to him.
A raise of his mother's chin, a cross of his father's fingers on the table.
"Unlike you, your brother has worked hard for the family name." His father starts. "He excelled and he followed a noble cause."
Sirius snorts. He wants to say to their faces that their precious little son is going to be the main reason for Voldemort's fall.
"We know you're incapable of understanding what being decent means, there is no reason to prove your incompetence constantly."
"I disagree." Sirius smirks.
"This was a mistake." His mother says. "You could yourself useful for one thing and you fail even in this." She gets up. "Come on, Orion, we're leaving." A look at Sirius. "Your brother will die and it's all your fault."
Sirius feels his throat closing.
The tapping of Snape's finger stops.
"Sit down." Snape says and Sirius is already looking without realising it.
"Excuse me?"
"Sit down." Snape repeats. "Or walk out of that door and carry the blood of your son's death on your hands. It doesn't really matter to me either way."
The buzz of the crowd envelopes the table.
"Who are you?" His father asks.
"None of your concern."
"The people you choose to..." His mother turns at Sirius. He sees her with the corner of his eyes, but Sirius's stare is glued at Snape.
"You're wasting my time." Snape speaks and he thinks his parents will burst out.
"Listen boy.."
"Do you think you're in a position to talk to me like that?" Snape cuts in. "I think not." He answers his own question. "I think, you are here to beg for your son's safety. So. Start begging."
He thinks he blinks when his mother hits the table again. He feels the danger of them all, the air as fragile as glass, and yet he wants to start laughing.
He looks at Snape and he almost sees the taste of the dark satisfaction his words have left on his lips.
He almost taste it too.
"You look like a peasant." His mother has a sour expression.
"You look like you're not begging enough." Snape tells her. A tap of his finger on the table. A motion his mother follows with her gaze. "And your time is running out."
His father is the first to sit. His mother brushes her robes as she follows.
They are both looking at him, as if the previous exchange never happened.
"Your brother is loyal to the Dark Lord." His mother starts and every word feels like an accusation. "Yet, he didn't offer him something that he wants, something that he thinks you will deliver to him in exchange for Regulus life. I can't understand how he came to that belief, since it all seems a game to you. But there is someone that guarantees that knows you and that even if you're...Well. That you will still help Regulus."
"Someone that knows me?" Sirius asks and then. Peter.
He's desperate Snape had said and that makes him dangerous.
Sirius clenches his fists.
"I don't know the details." His mother continues. "They don't matter. All the Dark Lord wants is for you to give me what he seeks." There is a move of her throat, barely visible below the layers of silk and laces.
"And what does he seek?" Sirius mocks, he can't help it. He will not let Reg die. "Because I'm happy to comply." Almost a laugh.
"The Potters' Secret Keeper. Severus Snape."