Thirteen
Severus realises that the buzz in his ears hasn't stopped. He still can't hear anything. He needs to hear, he needs the trembling in his hands to stop. They don't have much time. They must move fast. Before the destruction of Malfoy Manor becomes known.
Black stands in front of him, saying something Severus ignores as he opens his bag. They need a potion—two, perhaps—something to replenish their energy and heal their wounds.
A tug on his sleeve, and he raises his gaze in annoyance. Black mimics his movement, tapping his mouth to signal Severus to listen.
He scoffs -impatient- as he waits.
Where are we?
Severus doesn’t answer. Instead, he drinks the potion as Black bumps his arm. Craving attention until Severus can no longer ignore him.
He reaches for Black’s hand, still dirty with blood—his own and not—and places a bottle in it.
Drink it, he says, unsure if his voice even reaches Black.
The man drinks it anyway.
Severus watches as the cuts slowly heal and the angry marks from the chains fade away. It will take a few minutes for their magic to fully replenish. It isn’t healthy. A healer would call it unwise to forcefully suppress exhaustion.
There is no other way. They will deal with the consequences later, if later comes.
He inhales the scent of wet rocks in this barren land, where no tree grows. He has been in this estate only once and it was enough.
The practice of Dark Magic has made this place dry and unforgiving, no living creature dares approach it.
Yet, if he raises his gaze, he sees the house that resembles a castle—and knows there are people inside.
He knows that Regulus Black is there. Lucius implied as much.
He yanks Black forward. They have to cover the distance now. A hand around Black’s wrist, a slight resistance before Severus glares, forcing compliance. It’s the haze of the potion—temporary euphoria that won’t last.
They walk a few steps—just rocks, endless rocks—until they find a tiny spot where grass has stubbornly managed to grow.
His socks are torn, so he stops to remove them. He hopes Black is satisfied. Two gifts given away for his whims.
Black bends down as well. Severus ignores him, letting out a sigh. He hears himself as he does so.
"Listen to me carefully," he says, waiting to see if Black can hear him. The slight twist of Black’s lips, his annoyance at Severus’s tone, tells him that he does. "There’s no place for heroics now—no reckless stupidity."
Black looks like he’s ready to retort.
"Your brother is there." Severus points at the Manor. "And you're going to follow my instructions very carefully, otherwise I will abandon him and leave."
"Where are we?’ Black looks at the house, then at Severus—focused, annoyed, determined.
"At the Lestrange Manor,’ Severus says. The look he receives is hard. "Don’t do anything stupid,’ he says, partly knowing the warning is futile.
_____
When Severus brewed the Polyjuice Potion, he had a specific use in mind. It was a last resort to approach Voldemort, to stand close enough to kill him -to try it at least.
A waste now. He had burnt much of the stock in his bag. If they somehow manage to rescue Regulus Black, they will have to go to Black's old apartment, where the rest of his potions lay hidden.
"Take off your shoes." He says. They are only a few steps away from the wards. Severus believes they will let them pass—they expect Black to deliver him.
The man sits on the rocks and starts untying the cords.
"Now it's a good time to tell me what you're planning." He says.
"It's never a good time for that. I'm wasting my breath since you never listen."
Black throws his shoe at Severus's foot.
A flick of his hand, as if to prove his point.
"How does your animagus form work?" Severus asks as he wears it.
"What?" Black asks and Severus sighs.
"Do you need to be clean for your Animagus form to be clean? To appear presentable?" A glance. "I want answers, not questions."
Black frowns, looks at him. He's trying to understand what Severus has in mind.
"Essentially yes." He says.
"Good." Severus says and he hits him with enough spells to make him shine.
"Fuck, you could warn me."
"I don't have time to explain everything to you." Severus wears the other shoe.
"Maybe one, or two things." Black says as he gets up.
It's suicide, what they're about to do. A total miscalculation. They should leave. Turn around. See what the new Horcrux is.
"You will enter there in your animagus form." Severus says. "And you will not do anything else, except take your brother and go when the chance is presented."
"And what will you do?" Black asks, ready for a fight.
Severus smirks, takes out the potion and drinks it.
It's unpleasant, the transformation, but not too painful. Lucius’s body structure isn't much different from his own.
The face is the only part that pains him, but it ends quickly.
"There." Severus says and he hears Lucius voice.
"Fuck." Black looks at him with a mix of disdain and surprise.
"Now, your turn." Severus points at the ground. A flick of his wand fixes his clothes, making him appear wealthy and important—like a true member of an old, prestigious family.
"It's bad enough when you boss me around, but doing it with Malfoy's face? That’s a whole new level of disturbing."
"I will keep that in mind." Severus speaks, his voice lands a little off, he needs to fix that before they go in. Bellatrix might not hear it, but Narcissa will.
"Thank you." Black tells him. "For doing this."
Gratitude is irrelevant. Severus opens his mouth to argue—to point out that the younger Black has proven essential to the war and that perhaps his role should be expanded—but Black has already begun his transformation.
"You don't owe me, Black." He says. "It's an investment for the future."
He touches the fur, and he thinks of the hideous corridor with elves heads hanging as lanterns and he apparates them inside.
_____
Dark tapestries, adorned with crimson details, giving the illusion of blood.
He shouldn't be doing this. Risking everything for -an asset. Regulus Black is an asset.
He searches his pocket for a piece of paper. A quick move of his wand, two sentences.
That's all he manages, before the servants appear.
"Take me to my wife." He says with all the arrogance he has watched Lucius speak in all the years they know each other.
The man looks at him, then at the dog beside him. It's only natural he supposes. Black's animagus form isn't an animal, it's a beast, the size of a wolf.
"I don't like to repeat myself." Severus says and the servant nods and bows, while escorting him through the long corridor.
There are paintings here too, the pure bloods like their past a little too much. But unlike the Malfoy Manor, with its moving portraits, the paintings here don't have ancestors judging the guests or the state of the house.
They depict the Lestrange family's history—their rise in France, their arrival here—one bloody tale at a time.
Executions and hunting sports, big chairs like thrones, a set of eyes in each to follow him.
He should have at least told Albus.
The man stops at a big door, tries to knock but Severus opens it, before he can. Lucius is impatient, offended when he doesn't get immediately what he wants.
"That would be all." He says and he walks inside.
It is a sitting room of sorts, perhaps a library. There is fire warming the cold walls, eliminating the dark corners that seem to linger despite the light outside.
Narcissa is the first to spot him. She has Draco in her arms, a cradle on her side. As if she just raised him or she was going to put him inside. Her eyes meet him and for a moment there is anxiety, question, a breath she steals for her and her husband to communicate.
His visit is unexpected. Severus can tell that it unsettles her, it makes her scared.
"What is that?" Bella cuts through the unspoken exchange, leaving Narcissa's worries unanswered.
"Bella." Severus says, short, just an acknowledgement, as he walks inside. This is it.
It's only after he is two feet away from the door that he sees him. Regulus Black sitting on an armchair beside the fireplace.
Severus walks towards Narcissa, like it's expected of him.
He looks at Draco as she puts her hand on his arm.
"A pleasant surprise." She says, followed by a single smile. It's a performance. Lucius presence here, means that something is wrong.
Bella walks, her heels echo on the marble.
"What is this ugly beast you're carrying with you?" She asks, lowering her head.
Severus feels Black almost growling. Bella doesn't flinch. She is mad enough to laugh at any danger.
"A souvenir I collected." Severus replies and Bella does laugh. Narcissa is watching him -unblinking stare, blue eyes like Black's.
"Didn't know you had it in you to tame a beast like that." Bella says. "Tell me, cousin, did you ever think Lucius had it in him?"
"I don't have an opinion on the matter." Regulus answers, staring at the flames.
It's a peculiarity, his situation. In their eyes, he's a Death Eater, ready to sacrifice his life for his Lord. A hostage who sits among his captures, because he won't leave, since he's true Master commanded so.
Severus understands that Regulus Black is waiting for his death. He knows that nobody will come to save him.
Firstly, because it's illogical and secondly because the person who is asked to save him -his brother- hates him. Or so he thinks. Pettigrew is smarter on the matter.
Bella abandons the dog and strides toward the other Black.
"You don't seem happy cousin." She says. "The Dark Lord gave you the honour of fixing your mistake, since you were the one letting Snape go. You should be thankful." There is an edge on her tone, always there, constant. It takes a little of her beauty away.
Severus feels Black on his side still, a beast ready to attack. He puts his hand on his neck. A warning.
"Did something happen?" Narcissa drives the attention elsewhere. Severus isn't sure if she saw the exchange.
"They attacked the Manor." He says and Narcissa's eyes widen just a fraction. A squeeze of the sleeping child in her arms. "It's not safe for him to stay here. I came to retreat him." A side glance at the younger Black.
Bellatrix laughs.
"Let them come. I will enjoy killing the traitors. It will please my Lord."
"Snape should be interrogated." It's odd, speaking for himself.
"I will make sure to squeeze all of his secrets, before I kill him." A smile, a promise of death.
"You should go." Severus ignores her, turns to Narcissa. "Take Draco and go to access the damage." If it comes into battle, Severus prefers for the child not to be present.
Narcissa is ready to argue, but she won't, not in front of others. The Malfoys have a united front, no matter their personal opinions.
She looks at her sister.
"Go, Ciccy." Bellatrix says bored, a wave of her hand. "I promise I won't terrorise our dearest cousin too much."
That is why Narcissa is here. To make sure Bella behaves.
A heavy silence lingers as she takes the child and leaves. Severus takes a step towards the fire, just enough to be closer to Regulus.
"His location needs to change." He tells her.
"He won't leave this house." Bella answers. "You are not the one who orders me." It's like trying to take a toy from a child. A vicious child, who cuts the arms and legs from their toys.
Regulus scoffs, perhaps because they are talking about him as if he isn't there.
"It's futile." He says. "He will not come."
"Too bad for you dear cousin." Bella replies to him. "You will have to die then."
The dog growls this time, across from them. It catches her attention, just enough for Severus to drop the paper on Regulus hand.
"I think your dog needs more discipline." She says, a raise of her wand. Theatrical and loose, but always lethal.
Regulus raise his eyes on him. A doubt, because he's staring at Lucius Malfoy's eyes. Perhaps he should have written something more, than an address and a command.
"I believe there is nothing to be done about it. He can never be disciplined."
Severus takes a step, as Bella laughs.
"I'm sure..." She says as she turns, but Severus raises his wand and hits her. Even in this state, she is formidable. A foe ready to fight, even when she's not.
"What are you doing little Lucy?" She says and her eyes sparkle. Black has opened his mouth to attack, when Severus has clearly stated that he should take his brother and go in the first chance. There is no point in trying to discipline him, he has to work with his unpredictability in mind.
Severus throws another spell. A step to the right to make room for the younger Black to move. To draw the attention on him.
Bella retaliates. She is effortlessly strong, her inherited beauty sharpened by presence and magic. She could be truly stunning—if she didn’t revel in screams. Voldemort's loyalest follower.
Severus draws her by the window. She doesn't stop moving her wand. The commotion will alert the entire house. They need to move quickly.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Regulus standing beside his brother. At least one of them knows how to follow instructions.
A spell hit him.
"So Lucy, are you a traitor?" Bella asks.
He watches as Black is ready to jump on her. A set of teeth exposed, a move towards her. Regulus still hesitates.
"I'm not Lucius." He says to entirely capture her attention, to make Regulus move.
It works. Regulus Black touches the fur of the dog, surprising it and he speaks of the address Severus has instructed, lowly enough to be unheard.
Severus is alone. At least the plan worked.
_____
When they land, Sirius is disoriented. He transforms back into himself. He's missing a nail. It was a forced apparition, a nail is nothing.
Regulus' eyes widen. It takes him a moment to speak, and when he does, it's with mistrust.
"What are you doing?" He asks, but Sirius has no time for him right now.
"What the fuck? Why did you take me away?" He looks around, they are on a beach somewhere. Snape isn't here. "What the fuck did you do?" He starts walking, searching frantically. "Where the fuck is he?"
"Who?" Reg asks and he seems irritated and he shouldn't be, because Sirius is ready for a murder.
"Snape." Sirius says and he doesn't stop. "Why did you take us here? What is this place?"
He feels his anger pulsing through the veins in his neck.
"He gave me instructions. I assume from context Snape is the man posing as Lucius." Reg says and Sirius stops, turns around, snatches the paper Reg is holding out of his hands.
Take the dog and go. Then an address. Barely one. Tinworth.
"I'm going to kill him." Sirius says and he feels it, every word.
"Why did you come?" Reg asks. A frown, mistrust in the line between his eyes.
"Why is everyone asking why I don't let them die?" Sirius yells. He kicks the sand. "Stay here." He tells Reg, warns him, a pointed finger at his direction. An accusation. "I'm going back."
"I don't think Severus..."
"Reg shut your mouth or I'm going to shut it for you."
And they are teenagers again fighting over things that their mind can't quite comprehend exactly. With the rage people not fully developed possess, for concepts that they heard of, but not really felt until now.
"I'm sure Severus knows what he's doing." Reg continues. "And if you shared an inch of his intelligence, he would have trusted you with this task."
It will be a pity to murder him, when he just saved him. Sirius tries to push this thought in his hands, in his feet to stop them from moving.
"You don't know half of it - half of the shit he thinks so stop talking." He yells again, he yells enough for Reg to pause, to take a step back. Scared perhaps. Sirius will feel guilty afterwards, for frightening him. Later. When the true object of his rage would be here.
A distant sound of apparition freeze them. Sirius forgets about the fight, as he rushes through the sand towards the sound. There a house at the end of a cliff, that he only now sees.
He doesn't know if Reg is following him. The sand moves in his socks, he belatedly remembers that he gave Snape his shoes. He gave him his shoes, so he can stay back and die, like Sirius hasn't warned him enough against it.
He passes a fence, a forgotten thing, then a patch of curved land where a garden once stood. He opens the door, light blue and unlocked and there inside a summerhouse, lonely under the dim sun, Snape is standing against a table.
His Polyjuice is wearing off. It's a terrible sight—his face a grotesque mix of his features and Malfoy's, as if he's melting into his own skin.
"I'm gonna kill you." Sirius says.
"Wait in line." Snape answers and he removes a dagger pierced into his thigh.
The door closes and Sirius turns around sharply. It's only Reg.
Sirius ignores him. He walks to where Snape is standing. There are shards of glass on his arm -on his back.
"Where is your bag?" Sirius asks, an open palm, a demand.
"We should put this house under Fidelius." Snape replies.
"Where is your fucking bag?"
Snape gives it to him.
"I can't kill you when you're dying. It's unethical."
"I'm not dying." Snape says. "Don't be dramatic."
"You're about to." Sirius tells him, as he's searching the bag for the healing potions. There aren't many left. He looks at Snape, then at the bottles again.
"Perhaps remove the fragments first." Reg provides unhelpfully.
Sirius glances at him.
"We will perform the Fidelius first." Snape is moving his wand. The sound of waves echoes through the house, masking the quiet clatter of glass shards hitting the floor.
"Drink the fucking potion." He tells Snape, receiving a glare and, finally, fucking compliance.
"Now, Black." Snape says, blood dripping still from his skin. "Before both our magic exhausts." There is urgency in his voice. Sirius will punch him after they secure the house.
"Who will be the Keeper?" Sirius asks.
"Obviously me." Snape says and Sirius grabs his hands with force, starting the ritual.
It's not complicated, or perhaps it is, but Sirius has already done it once and he's a quick learner. He doesn't know, he doesn't care about it now. He says the words, puts his magic in, barely enough for the Fidelius Charm to catch. Snape's is less, sharper to compensate for what it lacks in power.
"So you can follow instructions." Snape says as the magic settles above the house. He has stopped bleeding.
"Are you fucking serious?" A shove against Snape, against the table he's leaning on.
"Coming to Bella's house was a mistake that you shouldn't have taken. Neither of you." Reg speaks and Sirius doesn't want to harm him. So he turns, takes his arm and drags him out. "Stay here."
The door slams shut as Sirius steps in, mere inches from his face. Snape has his wand drawn. Sirius will strangle him—he’s asking for it.
"Muffliato," Snape mutters, then adds, "It was crucial to act quickly, and the moment she speaks, you start growling like an animal. One might wonder, is it the human in you transforming, or the dog?"
"You’re full of bullshit." Sirius tries to cast—anything. It doesn’t matter. He just needs to release this anger, this throbbing pulse throughout his entire body. He fails. The constant running, the fighting—it's finally caught up with him. He throws his wand to the floor. "Did you think you were so clever when you handed that paper to Reg?"
"I asked one thing of you: take your brother and go. But instead, you chose to attack. What’s the point of asking to learn the plan if you keep ignoring it?" Snape pushes the table further with the back of his hands, using the momentum to straighten his posture and step forward.
"And I fucking told you—it’s not a trade," Sirius yells.
"It worked out, didn’t it? Your brother managed to follow a simple instruction. Something that, for you, has repeatedly proven to be a challenge." Snape leaves his wand on the table. Calculating even now, when they're yelling at each other.
"You barely made it out alive. What part of it seems like it worked out?" Sirius tries to be still, if he moves, if he takes even a step, he will hurt him.
"Your brother is free, with no casualties. I consider this a success—mostly on my part. And I’m generous when I say 'mostly' because it's entirely due to me." The vein on his neck is visible, a constant testament to his anger.
"Yes, of course—Severus Snape, the epitome of brilliance. Let’s all just accept everything he says without question." Sirius curls his fist, hits the air.
"Mocking what you can’t achieve is truly the lowest you’ve ever been." Snape raises an eyebrow deliberately. "Go on, growl, while I think of the next step."
Sirius moves before he thinks—grabs for Snape's neck, to cover the vein, to stifle his own anger, to release something else.
"I'm going to kill you." Sirius warns him, and it's an entirely different warning.
"Because I do what is necessary?" Snape replies pushing him back.
A moment of separation and Sirius is grabbing his shirt.
"Because I was right not to trust that you would follow? Because I know what you’ll do before you do it?" Snape taunts. It’s bad—Sirius left his wand a few feet behind.
It's bad, because he will hurt him, he will make him bleed. He will put his hands on his scalp and he will push it.
The bang in his fingertips is there.
Snape watches him, his displeased dark eyes on level with his own.
"If you're planning on killing me, I suggest..." Snape says, and Sirius kisses him.
Both hands on a pale face. He presses his head to Snape’s, like he pictured it, biting to make him bleed.
Snape fists his shirt like he's enraged. A pull, without purpose because there is no space. Still, Sirius pushes forward, and they slam into the table.
Snape bites him back. Is it a kiss if they are both bleeding?
Sirius opens his mouth, needing to breathe, but Snape kisses his upper lip, and breathing seems irrelevant.
He runs his left hand through Snape’s straight black hair—clean, soft. Sirius realizes he’s had his eyes closed until now.
Snape’s black eyes stare at him, frowning. Sirius pulls him closer—where, he doesn’t know. Closer. A tongue inside his mouth. Snape closes his eyes.
And it's...
"Did you kill each other?" Reg’s voice calls from somewhere distant, shattering the moment entirely.