The Tower
Sirius had to force himself to slow down as he made his way up to the astronomy tower, reminding himself that while Filch couldn’t see him, he could definitely hear him. Luckily, with the Gryffindor dorms being in a tower, Sirius didn’t need to walk up too many flights of stairs.
That led him to wonder how in the bloody hell Snape had managed to get up to the astronomy tower from the dungeons without getting caught. No, that thought will be saved for another day, Sirius’s mind was already too preoccupied.
He had felt an odd twisting feeling in his stomach as he neared the classroom. Why was he so nervous? He had known the git for seven years now; he knew what he was capable of, yet still he felt apprehensive. Perhaps it was because once he opened that door, there would be no turning back. He would finally get his answer.
Sirius was not an idiot; he knew what was going to happen. Snape would reveal that he was exactly what Sirius had thought—a slimy little death eater that vied for the attention of his blood purist housemates in order to get on their good sides. When Snape reveals that, all these strange feelings will go away, and Sirius will gleefully make the bat fall for him before breaking his cold black heart.
As soon as he stopped in front of the door, he pulled out the map again, checking to make sure no one was near before pulling off the invisibility cloak and haphazardly folding it and shoving it in the pocket of his robe.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door. Snape was leaning against the railing of the tower, his back facing Sirius. Though the sound of the Gryffindor opening the door alerted him, he quickly turned to face him, hiding his hand behind his back. The Slytherin’s initial startled expression quickly soured once he recognised Sirius.
“Are you following me?” He asked with a scowl on his face that he had only reserved for the marauders.
Sirius ignored the question at first, opting to walk over to him. He didn’t want to talk loudly across the room to him in fear that a professor would hear the commotion and catch them. Snape had watched him wearily, the action reminding Sirius of a feral stray cat when you tried to approach.
As he neared, a familiar scent hit him. “Are you smoking?” he asked. How did the Slytherin get his hands on cigarettes?
“That’s none of your bloody business,” Snape sneered.
The scent of tobacco started to make Sirius's mouth water, the craving momentarily distracting him from the true reason he came here. “Can I have one?” Sirius asked, ignoring the Slytherin’s hostility.
“No, fuck off.” Snape bit back instantly.
Sirius brought his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please, Snape, I’m begging. I forgot to pack mine; I’ve been craving them for weeks! Have mercy.”
Snape scowled but reluctantly acquiesced, moving his free hand to his robes and fishing out the pack for him. He handed the Gryffindor the beaten-up box, but before Sirius’s hands could touch the cardboard, he pulled the pack away. “Tell me why you’re here first,” he said.
Damn, ever the sneaky Slytherin. Sirius had always thought he had the upper hand, but the snake never failed to get the last laugh.
He let out a sigh, trying to buy time to think up an excuse, “I erm…couldn’t sleep. I always come up here when I can’t clear my mind,” he said. Technically, it was the truth; Sirius always ended up here during his strolls at this exact railing. In fact, he would’ve gone to the astronomy tower even if he hadn’t known that the Slytherin was there.
Snape didn’t seem entirely convinced but handed him the pack anyway. “If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you into next Tuesday,” he hissed, giving Sirius a harsh glare.
Sirius raised his hands in surrender before grabbing the box and opening it. The pack was already mostly gone, even though it hadn’t even been a month yet. He could tell it was a muggle brand of cigarettes; he had tried them once when he snuck out of Grimmauld Place before his parents found out and placed him under a more strict watch.
He grabbed one of the cigarettes and the black-beaten-up lighter that was in the box as well. He could’ve easily taken out his wand and lit it with magic, but he didn’t want to scare off Snape with that movement. He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking in some nicotine before puffing it out. “Thank you; I’ll pay you back,” he mumbled around the smoke.
Snape shrugged. “If you fuck off after you’re done, you owe me nothing.” Determining that Sirius was no longer a threat, he returned to smoking as well.
Sirius couldn’t keep his eyes off of Snape’s mouth; his soft pink lips wrapping around the cigarette had made his mouth strangely water, and an odd tingling sensation came over him. He had to force himself to look away, though he couldn’t stop looking at the Slytherin entirely. His pale skin had become radiant in the moonlight.
The silence between them was awkward, it practically forced Sirius to fill it with conversation. “So you don’t like blokes that drink, but you’re fine with smoking?” Sirius asked, shocking both Snape and himself with that question.
“Who told you that?” Snape asked immediately.
Fuck, he wasn’t really thinking when he said that. “I–”
Snape fully faced him. “It was Lily, wasn’t it?” He asked with a mixture of betrayal and irritation on his face.
Sirius was unable to come up with any lies, but apparently his lack of an answer had been enough to clue Snape in. The Slytherin let out a heavy sigh before turning back to look at the night sky. “She never could keep her mouth shut,” he mumbled underneath his breath, but Sirius had still managed to pick it up.
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault I– I asked her what kind of stuff you like in a bloke. She refused, but I kept pushing,” he said, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. While it was actually James who had pushed for it, he didn’t want his mate to take the fall.
Snape looked over at him and raised a brow. “So that’s why you’ve been acting like a total prat?” he asked, taking another drag of his cigarette, his hands slightly shaking.
“Well, that wasn’t my intention, but yeah. I just…wanted to impress you. That clearly didn’t work out too well, though,” he said, ending his sentence with an awkward chuckle.
The Slytherin didn’t respond. Sirius was surprised by that. Snape was always quick to snap back and shut Sirius down, but he didn’t say anything at all. Even his stance was different; he was usually so rigid around the Gryffidnor, ready to defend himself at any moment. But right now he was slightly slumped against the railing, as if it were the only thing keeping him up. Examining further, he noticed the dark discoloration under his eyes; it was the type of dark that only showed up after days of rough sleep. How come he never noticed it before? Was the Slytherin wearing a glamour during classes?
“Are you okay? You look tired…” He said softly.
Snape’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing into a nasty glare. “I’m fine,” he bit out.
“Then why are you fighting to stay awake right now?” He pushed.
“I said I’m fine!” Snape snapped back, “I’ve just lost time studying for my NEWTs. Some of us actually take school seriously, not that you'd know!”
It was Sirius’s turn to be offended. “Why does everything have to be a bloody argument with you?! I’m just worried!”
Snape drew closer to him, “Worried? You aren’t worried about shite! You’re just upset that you and your little friends aren’t the only ones tormenting me!”
All the anger in Sirius’s body had immediately vanished at that; the burning, hot rage turned to ice. “Who’s hurting you?” he asked. Sirius could feel another emotion creeping up—something darker, something he couldn’t quite understand.
The Slytherin’s expression had turned embarrassed. It was clear to Sirius that Snape didn’t mean to let that information slip. Snape’s jaw tensed for a moment, his eyes unable to meet Sirius’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he bit out tensely before taking another drag of his cigarette.
Sirius frowned as he noticed the Slytherin’s hands were still shaking. Why wasn’t he wearing gloves? Or at least some sort of charm to keep him warm. Looking at Snape with more scrutiny, he found that the Slytherin had no other signs of being cold. His fingertips and cheeks lacked any red hue, and his lips were still their normal soft pink. Curious, Sirius grabbed the Slytherin’s hand before he could protest.
It was warm.
He had on a warming charm. Then why was his…No.
Snape started to try to pull his hand back, but Sirius’s grip grew stronger. “Let me go, Black,” Snape hissed, but the Slytherin’s demands fell on deaf ears, as the Gryffindor was seeing red.
“Who did this to you?” Though it was a question, Sirius’s tone made it sound like a demand.
“I don’t know–”
“Who?” Sirius asked again, interrupting Snape. He wasn’t going to let him play dumb; Sirius knew the side effects of that spell and knew it all too well. The idea of someone using it on the Slytherin had made him irrationally angry, though he wasn't sure why.
Snape gritted his teeth. “That’s none of your–” He was then interrupted by the faint sound of scratching outside the astronomy door. The two students froze for a moment before Sirius quickly let go of Snape’s wrist and fished in his pockets for the invisibility cloak.
Snape gave him a questioning look, “What are you–”
“Shh, just follow my lead.” He quickly got out before throwing the cloak over the both of them. It was not the smartest idea to expose Snape to the secret of their invisibility cloak, but it was the only thing he could think of at that moment.
Their shoulders brushed against each other under the cloak, their breaths bated as Ms. Norris continued to scratch at the wooden door. Footsteps soon followed, and the familiar wheezing voice of Filch pierced through the wood, “What’s so interesting about that door, my sweet? Are there misbehaving students? Those nasty little beasts! Don’t they know it’s past their curfew?” he mumbled to himself as he swung the door wide open, looking directly at the two of them.
Snape flinched, but once he noticed that Filch couldn’t see them, he relaxed, though only slightly. Filch grumbled as he didn’t notice any students right away; he was about to turn to leave but abruptly stopped, giving the air a quick sniff. “Students out of bed; if only Headmaster Dumbledore would let me punish them myself,” he rasped as he started to head directly toward the two of them.
Sirius grabbed Snape’s arm, forcing him to follow so they weren’t standing in the middle of the balcony. Barely missing Filch, he pressed his back against the wall, clutching the Slytherin close to his chest. They couldn’t stray too far apart from one another, as their shoes would show underneath the cloak. He never knew how he and the rest of the marauders were able to fit underneath it all those years ago.
Filch made it to the railing, scowling as he looked around and saw no one near. Suddenly, the hunchbacked caretaker's face twisted into a nasty smile as he bent down and grabbed the cigarette buds they had accidentally left on the floor. Fuck, in his panic to quickly hide, he had forgotten to toss them.
“Still warm…” Filch muttered to himself as he scanned the room.
Sirius felt the Slytherin’s breath kiss against his collarbone, causing a strange sensation to wash over Sirius’s entire body. Sirius, whose hands were naturally placed on Snape’s hips, squeezed in response. Snape looked up at him, his doe-black eyes glaring at the Gryffindor. He was trying to be intimidating, but the light blush on his cheeks made him look more adorable than anything.
The two of them were so close at that moment, fronts pressed up against each other, that Sirius could only take note of two things at that moment. That the Slytherin’s body fit perfectly in his arms, and if he bent down just slightly, their lips would meet.
Wait, what the bloody hell was he thinking?! Merlin, he must be desperate. Yes, that was it! He was desperate, that’s why he couldn’t control the warmth pooling in his lower abdomen as Snape pushed himself closer once Filch began to approach them during his search.
Though if it were only lust, then why was he still nearly seething in rage at the idea of someone hurting him? In general, the Slytherin was very physically weak; Sirius had never realised it, as Snape made up for it with his vitriolic words and standoffish demeanour. He had paraded around as someone who was much stronger than he was; he stood up against the four marauders with such unwavering confidence, but in reality, he was frail. Sirius could feel his delicate frame through their layers of clothes and see a softness in his dark, cold eyes. Was his nasty attitude some sort of defence he built to ward off people from harming him?
But who would ever try to hurt the Slytherin?
Oh, that’s right, him.
Merlin, he was such a prat.
His thoughts were soon cut off by the slamming of a door. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed Filch making his leave. Once they could no longer hear the older man’s steps, Snape ripped off the cloak, moving away from the Gryffindor and making him suddenly feel cold.
“What the fuck was that?” the Slytherin asked.
“I think Ms. Norris could smell our–”
“Not that you dunderhead, you!” Snape hissed.
Sirius fully took off the cloak, rolling it up before stuffing it in the pocket of his robe. “What about me?” He asked dumbly.
Snape scoffed, “You’ve been weird since the start of the school year, but this has taken it to an entirely different level. Since when have you given a shite about how I’m treated?”
Sirius was taken aback, “I–”
“And don’t get me started on that cloak bullshite! That’s how you’ve been able to sneak up on me, isn’t it?!” Snape said, practically seething.
The Gryffindor was momentarily speechless, but he quickly found his words, “Why are you mad at me? I just helped you!”
Snape scoffed, “What do you want? My thanks? Thank you for helping me this one time after years of torment, you’re quite the Gryffindor!”
“Can you blame me? I thought you were one of his followers!” Sirius snapped back.
“I’m a half-blood, you fucking prat! He wants people like me dead!” Snape said, his voice slightly breaking at the word 'dead'.
Sirius grew quiet for a moment, his chest rising and falling intensely. “Then why do you hang out with them?” he asked, his tone suddenly cold.
Snape raised a brow, “Who?”
“Mulciber, Avery, and all those other snakes! The ones that have been blocking me from talking to you!” Sirius replied.
The Slytherin scowled, “You don’t get to determine who I can and cannot spend my time with.”
“But they’re death eaters!” Sirius exclaimed. Why was the git not understanding it?
“They’re also my dormmates! I sleep in the same room as them, Black. What the fuck do you expect me to do?”
He was right. What could he do? He was forced to live with people who hated his very existence. He was like how Sirius was with his family. Only Sirius wasn’t a bloody coward, and he actually stood up for himself. He wouldn’t back down, no matter how many lashings and…
“They’re the ones hurting you, aren’t they?” Sirius asked, his revelation hitting him unexpectedly.
Snape suddenly looked very uncomfortable, “That’s none of your business Black.”
Sirius took a step forward, forcing Snape to take a step back, “Please, I…I want to help…” He said desperately.
The Slytherin scoffed, “You? Help? You want to know how you can help Black? By fucking off!” He moved away from the Gryffindor and started to head for the door.
“No,” Sirius said.
Snape stopped in his tracks, turning to look at the Gryffindor, “What?” he asked.
“No, I won’t,” Sirius said, making his way to the Slytherin only stopping when his shoes were about to touch Snape’s. “I’m going to find who did this,” Sirius said, bringing his hand up to Snape’s face and brushing the strands away, “and I’m going to make them stop.”
The Slytherin’s brows furrowed, an unreadable expression on his face. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the swinging of a door.
There, in the doorway, stood Filch.