Madly, Deeply, Black

Sirius returned to his room, still smiling. He imagined how hard it must have been for Snape to call him and ask him for such a thing, making him understand that there were a whole host of embarrassing little details about having only one set of clothes. He hadn't been very ingenious in his first quest to clothe Snape after his accident. On reflection, he could have given him something to wear that belonged to him. He had deliberately chosen to give him one of his mother's old clothes, which reminded him of the long black cape and wizard's robe Snape always wore.

How much time did he have before he got out of the shower? Sirius opened one of his cupboards and rummaged around inside. Snape was thinner and a little shorter than he was, so logically everything should fit him or be a little big. Sirius pulled out some old T-shirts he'd worn when he was a teenager, featuring Muggle rock bands. One of them featured a gold-coloured design reminiscent of a Muggle crest from the Middle Ages, as well as more or less imaginary beasts. At the bottom it read "Queen". Sirius smiled as he took it in his hands and his smile widened when he imagined Snape wearing it. Still, it was unlikely that Snape would be satisfied with just one shirt. Sirius grabbed some pants, giggling stupidly, and a pair of pyjamas that didn't fit any more. He'd never liked them, and for good reason: they were made of dark green silk embroidered with silver piping on the sleeves and the hems of the trousers. He couldn't remember exactly how he'd received this 'gift', but it must surely have been a desperate attempt by someone in his family to make him love the Slytherin colours. Of course, the pyjamas had never left his wardrobe. They did look a bit small for Snape, though, and with a flick of his wand, Sirius enlarged them, hoping he hadn't got the proportions wrong.

Satisfied with his choices, he went back to Snape's room. Just before entering, he pressed his ear against the door but heard nothing. He pushed it open and entered. The room was silent and Snape was no longer in bed. Aware that he shouldn't linger, Sirius went over to the bed and laid the loose clothes on it, as usual. He couldn't help but glance around. The room was just as empty as it had been when Snape had arrived, with only the various potion bottles on the bedside table to indicate that some form of life existed in the room. Just as he was about to leave, Sirius heard the sound of a door opening and suddenly found himself face to face with Snape coming out of the bathroom.

Sirius couldn't help but quickly detail what he saw: Snape was wearing only a towel tied around his waist, the rest of his body was completely naked, his torso scarred and his legs thin. The Potions Master had probably washed his hair, as he was wearing another towel on his head containing his wet hair. As soon as he saw Sirius, Snape literally ripped the towel from his head.

“What are you doing here," he exclaimed, blushing.

“Er, nothing in particular, I'm just bringing you some clothes," Sirius said, half amused, half shocked, pointing to the pile of clothes he'd laid on top of him.

Snape looked at him like someone who wanted to say something biting back but was holding back.

“Okay, thanks," he mumbled, looking away again.

Sirius, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixed on Snape.

“Are you feeling any better? I mean, are your uh wounds healing well?”

“How do you think? It's better thanks to the oil, but some scars will remain, like the ones on my face, but...”

Snape paused and squinted as if he realised he was talking too much.

“What do you care anyway?”

“Nothing," Sirius answered hastily, "I mean, I'm interested in...”

“In what? You're still trying to find excuses to make fun of me, aren't you? I imagine you're having a good laugh with the others downstairs, 'the ones you love' as you call them," Snape retorted scornfully.

“Not at all," exclaimed Sirius. “Dumbledore asked me not to say anything and I stand by my words, Snape.”

“Ah well, I suppose I should thank Dumbledore then, since apparently he's the one who's stopping you from making fun for once.”

“Snape, maybe it slipped your mind, but I'm not fifteen any more," said Sirius, who was beginning to lose his patience.

“I don't see how that stopped you from continuing to call me Snivellus and hurling derogatory comments at me whenever you had the chance," replied Snape.

“At least I didn't want to hand you over to the Dementors knowing you were innocent, Snape," said Sirius icily.

Snape froze as if Sirius had put the Full Body-Bind Curse on him.

“I see you've run out of things to say for once. If calling you Snivellus is justification for having your soul sucked out, I don't think we have anything more to say to each other, Snape.”

Sirius hadn't planned to talk about this at all. He had to concentrate all his efforts not to tremble and hold back the tears of anger and emotion that threatened to spring up.

“I..." began Snape.

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Just as I thought, we've got nothing more to say to each other. By the way, I'd like to point out that you're not the centre of the world and that when I'm with the others, the ones I actually love, I don't talk about you, there are much more interesting things than your stories about scars," said Sirius with all the malice he was capable of but only to stop himself from bursting into tears.

Snape seemed to have turned into a statue. His wet black hair hung down on either side of his face and he stared at Sirius with a bewildered expression. The Gryffindor forced himself to look away from Snape's half-naked body, any desire to untie the towel around his hips having disappeared from Sirius' mind as quickly as it had appeared. All he could think about now was hurting Snape, hitting the armour he never seemed to leave.

Sirius turned and left the room, slamming the door angrily behind him. Snape really did have a knack for ruining everything, he thought. Why hadn't he said anything if he was so sorry, as Dumbledore had told him? Deep down, Sirius had wanted to discuss the matter with the Slytherin, but he had imagined a relaxed atmosphere for it, during a friendly conversation while Snape was convalescing. However, Sirius realised that Snape didn't seem to have the slightest desire to have a friendly conversation with him. Every time they saw each other, he found a way of insulting Sirius or reproaching him unjustifiably. The one time he had accepted Sirius' help he had not been himself.

"I was such a fool to think that... that we could be friends," Sirius thought bitterly, taking his head in his hands as he sat on his bed. "Was being friends really what you thought?" came another voice in his head as an echo of his first thought.

“Fuck off Snape,” said Sirius loudly.

He felt so unhappy to be rejected in such a violent way by the man he was... taking care of. Snape had bluntly admitted that he had wanted to kill Sirius when he was a fully grown man. The thought pierced Sirius' heart with more vigour than it had ever done before, as if the realisation of that fact was like a sharp blade. Sirius took out his wand and jabbed at the door to lock it and block out any sound coming from his room, then buried his head in his arms and finally let his horn ring out.

Sirius' sullen mood continued over the next few days. A message from Dumbledore asking about Snape did nothing to improve his mood. The start of the new school year at Hogwarts was approaching and if Snape didn't get better soon, a replacement would have to be found for Potions. Sirius had no desire to go and ask Snape about his recovery and sent Kreacher to give him Dumbledore's message. Sometimes his thoughts wandered and Sirius wondered vaguely what Snape could be doing all day, completely locked up in his room, and how he managed not to go mad. Then he forced himself to think about something else. Sirius had no desire to see everyone leave his house and find himself alone most of the time. Still, he spent more and more time with Buck in his mother's old room and wondered what would happen on the first of September.

While he was daydreaming and stroking the hippogriff, Kreacher entered the room and bowed.

“Master, Professor Snape would like to see you.”

“I have nothing to say to him," replied Sirius.

“Master, Professor Snape said it was urgent.”

“Urgent?" Sirius sat up despite himself. “What's all this about?”

“Professor Snape wouldn't tell Kreacher what it was about, he just asked him to fetch the Master.”

Sirius sighed. He hadn't seen Snape in the three days since their argument and had no desire to meet him face to face. On the other hand, an ounce of curiosity prickled his stomach. He got up reluctantly and told Kreacher he was going down to see Snape.

By the time he was behind the door, Sirius was feeling slightly queasy. He was still angry with Snape and didn't know if he could carry on a normal conversation. He knocked and Snape's voice immediately told him to come in.

The Slytherin was sitting in an armchair that Sirius hadn't seen and which was in a corner of the large room, directly opposite the door. He was dressed in the green and silver pyjamas Sirius had given him, which fit perfectly thanks to the enlargement spell he'd cast, and a pair of black socks that also came out of nowhere.

“Black. Thanks for coming so quickly," said Snape.

There was an awkward silence during which Sirius just stared at Snape with a black eye.

“It's er... about Dumbledore's message," Snape continued. “I think I'll be able to resume my lessons before the new term starts.”

Sirius shrugged.

“Good for you. That was your emergency?”

“Yes, it was.”

Sirius looked at Snape angrily. He looked uncomfortable but, above all, not at all capable of teaching anything by standing for hours on end or talking to unruly pupils. "He's going to be unbearable with the students," Sirius thought in spite of himself.

“There's another thing," added Snape. “I need to restock some potions. How do you get in touch with Dumbledore? I can take care of sending him messages myself, it'll be less annoying for you.”

“We communicate by the usual means used by the Order. The method you always seem to want to avoid using," remarked Sirius.

“Oh, Patronuses, I see," said Snape, blushing.

“Why don't you ever want to use your Patronus?” asked Sirius in spite of himself.

It was a question that had intrigued him since last month when the Order had reformed. Snape was one of the few who stubbornly refused to cast his Patronus, and only Dumbledore seemed to know about it, since Snape had communicated with him before.

“It doesn't matter," Snape replied. “Could you give him the list of potions I need? And a few others I'd like to add.”

“New potions?”

Sirius shrugged again.

“Very well, just write me the list and I'll send it to him later.”

“Erm..." said Snape. “I don't have a quill and parchment here.”

Sirius looked at him in surprise.

“I'll bring you some.”

He almost added 'idiot' but stopped himself in time. Snape seemed strange today.

“All right," muttered Snape.

Sirius waited a few moments, then cast an attraction spell to bring the equipment from his room. He gave it to Snape, but Snape didn't write.

“Are you going to stay here?” he asked Sirius.

“Well, listen, you're not going to take all day writing that list, are you?”

“No, of course not," muttered Snape, blushing even more.

There was obviously something wrong with his behaviour, but Sirius had no idea what it was. Snape picked up the quill, dipped it in the ink and began to write. Sirius watched him and realised that Snape's hand was trembling slightly. It took him forever to write down the list of potions he needed, then he handed the list to Sirius and Sirius thought he saw fear in the potions teacher's eyes. He glanced at the parchment and had to hold back an exclamation of surprise. Instead of Snape's fine, tight handwriting, which Sirius knew well, grotesque letters and disjointed words had been clumsily traced on the parchment.

Sirius looked up at Snape. Snape was looking at him, the gleam of fear still present in his eyes.

“What?" he asked defiantly.

“Snape, how long have you been writing like this?”

“I... it's not easy to write without a table," muttered Snape, who had put the parchment on his lap to make the list.

“Do you really expect me to believe that stupid excuse," Sirius asked, almost offended. “What's going on?”

Snape let out a long sigh.

“You've been stressing me out watching me write," he said.

“Snape. What's the matter?”

Then suddenly the Potions Master clasped his face in his hands and fell silent. Sirius froze in place. Slowly, Snape raised his head. And looked at Sirius with squinted eyes.

“I... I don't know exactly why, but I can't seem to see very well," he said.

“What?" exclaimed Sirius. “You mean... you're going blind?”

“Not blind," replied Snape, "just my eyesight's gone all of a sudden and it's strange because I can see you well when you're far away, for example, but when I'm near you, well I'm... it's all blurry. I wasn't sure if I was going mad, but now I know for sure.”

He gestured vaguely at the parchment.

“Since when?" asked Sirius.

“The day before yesterday," replied Snape. “I tried to read and couldn't…”

His voice broke in spite of himself and Sirius could see that he was trying very hard to control himself. He felt like coming closer and hugging him again, even though it wouldn't solve his problem. Instead, he said:

“You can't go back to teaching in this state.”

“I know that," Snape murmured. “That's why I've made you a list of potions I'll need. The most important being, of course, the clairvoyance potion.”

Sirius looked at the parchment and said to himself that Snape had done well to give him the name of the potion because he would have had a hard time deciphering it.

“But," Sirius continued, "why the sudden change?”

“I think it's one of the effects of the Cruciatus Curse," replied Snape thoughtfully, "a sort of side effect, I remember reading about it. It should go away with the potion, that's why I... I asked the elf to say it was an emergency.”

“You did the right thing," Sirius replied immediately. “I'll take care of it and ask for the potion.”

Snape looked at him with an indecipherable expression.

“Thank you," he said.

“Of course," replied Sirius.

Just as he was about to turn on his heels, he heard behind him.

“Black. I'm... I'm really sorry about the Dementors. I'm deeply sorry, I know you won't believe me but I also don't know how else to explain it. I wasn't thinking, I was so mad at you, you tried to kill me when we were at Hogwarts and I just thought that... that I could get back at you. I was so stupid and I swear I'm sure I would have changed my mind, even if it wasn't up to me to decide who gets the Dementor's kiss anyway. I'm not a killer, Black.”

Sirius stopped and felt his heart quicken. He turned to look at Snape, who looked miserable in his chair.

“And so because of some stupid teenage prank you thought it would be a good idea to hand me and Remus, who hadn't done anything at all, over to the Dementors?”

“I wouldn't call it a prank," replied Snape. “I'd remind you that if...”

“I know, I know," cut in Sirius. “Except that I didn't quite realise what I was doing, strangely enough I found it amusing that you found yourself in front of Remus transformed into a werewolf but in my head the joke stopped there, nothing happened after that. You were scared and ran away.”

“Of course I was! I was going to run back and escape from a rampaging werewolf," Snape scoffed.

“I'm telling you, it was stupid but it was supposed to be a joke," continued Sirius. “You on the other hand...”

“I, on the other hand, apologised," Snape remarked coldly.

Sirius stared at him. It was true, Snape had apologised to him and even if Sirius wasn't ready to forgive him, he had to admit that it was better than nothing.

“All right, then. I also apologise for that tasteless prank," said Sirius. “I've thought about it many times and I assure you I'm not proud of it today, just as I'm not proud of anything else.”

“You mean all the times you attacked me with Potter?," asked Snape. “Or when you were four against one? When you made sure I didn't have any friends or you'd go after them too?”

Sirius felt a cold hand tighten on his heart.

“Yes," he murmured, "that's what I'm talking about.”

“It's too late," said Snape. “The damage is done.”

“I'd point out that you never wasted an opportunity to cast spells on us either," Sirius replied weakly.

“Only because if I didn't, you did.”

Sirius felt extremely bad.

“Listen Snape, I'm going to go and ask for those potions and then we'll talk again, OK?”

“There's nothing more to say," said Snape. “You've been a jerk, but I've just made mistakes.”

“You're right, I've done some really bad things," says Sirius sheepishly. “I don't even know why we hated you so much, it was a bit of a pleasure to see that... well, I don't know.”

“Do you still hate me that much now?”

Sirius was caught off guard by the question.

“What? Of course not! No!," he exclaimed. “I... deeply regret everything that happened and if I could erase it I would without hesitation.”

“Your teenage years wouldn't be so much fun any more," sneered Snape.

“Stop it, I feel bad enough as it is.”

Snape made a noise that sounded like bitter laughter.

“I'll go and get the potions," said Sirius, then hurried out.

In the corridor he had to fight back the tears. He'd never imagined Snape confronting him with his actions in such a way and, above all, it had made him realise just how sensitive the man must be. He just hid it very well. Snape had caused him so much pain the last few days, but he was only now becoming aware of the horror Snape had had to go through because of him and the Marauders. The worst thing was when Snape had told him that he'd never had any friends because of them... he imagined Snape still alone and sad, wondering what he could have done to deserve this. Sirius wiped away a tear that had rolled down his cheek.

“Bloody hell, I'm going to change that," he said to himself.

He conjured up his Patronus and sent it to take the message to Dumbledore.