Madly, Deeply, Black

As Severus regained consciousness, he felt the warmth around him as the first sensation. He immediately recognized the absence of any pain. Gradually, Severus regained consciousness while keeping his eyes closed, his mind remained hazy. He became aware of the noises coming from the surroundings. He could smell a fire burning and could connect it to the occasional crackling noises. Subsequently, he realized something else. Every few minutes, he heard the sound of pages turning. Someone was reading beside him. As he opened his eyes, the dim light in the room momentarily dazzled him, and his gaze immediately fell on the man in front of him. Sirius Black was slumped in an armchair, his head bent over a vast open volume on his lap. Severus saw Black following the lines with his finger while he read, and suddenly, he remembered the summer. Black had read for him when he couldn't see. Severus remembered Black's deep, warm voice and hesitant tone. The curly black hair of the man was hiding his face, and only the tip of the nose, finely defined, was visible.

"He's trying to help me," Severus thought, "he's reading those books he hates, hoping to find a solution to my problem”. Strangely, this thought also gave him a warm feeling, like fire burning inside his belly, and he couldn't quite tell why. All of a sudden, the figure lifted its face, and its startled grey eyes met the deep black gaze of Severus. Severus found himself blush instantly, caught watching Black in the act.

“Severus!" he exclaimed, joy showing on his handsome features. “You're awake! How do you feel?”

Severus just nodded. Sirius put the open book on the floor and sat back in his chair. The Slytherin then realised that he was lying on a soft sofa, wrapped in a blanket, with a large cushion under his head. He had no desire to move or leave the warmth of the blanket, so he just lay there.

“What happened?," Severus said hoarsely. “Where are we?”

“You passed out when we came into the kitchen. I carried you here, it was closer. It's just the downstairs sitting room.”

“The downstairs sitting room? What happened to the tapestry of the ancient and noble Black family?”

Sirius didn't react to Severus's slightly teasing tone.

“It's not the same drawing room. The big one is on the other side of the house and I never go there, precisely because of that awful tapestry. This is the small sitting room and I've taken care to get rid of all the objects and photos I don't like.”

Severus remained silent, but he also preferred this tiny, cosy room to the vast, chilly, and austere sitting room.

“You haven't answered me," Sirius continued. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great," sighed Severus. “But better than before, that's for sure.”

“I was worried," said Sirius.

Severus was silent. He didn't know what to say.

“I thought... well, I thought it was serious.”

The Slytherin felt he should have reacted, but he couldn’t, and he didn't know if it was exhaustion or something else, but his brain seemed to be blocked.
“Well..." he said at last. “You can see it's nothing, just a little discomfort.”

“A little discomfort? Severus, you're still suffering the consequences of torture! It's not nothing! I should have paid more attention to you, I'm so stupid. I wasn't paying attention to the time when we were in the library and I was pissed off, ruminating on thoughts about my fucking family.”

“I don't quite see what this has to do with you being stupid,” Severus muttered, surprised by Black's tirade.

“Well, you're in my house, you came here because you were hurt, and I let you wander around for hours without eating or drinking anything. I should have thought of you instead of focusing on my hatred. After all, you're my responsibility... Dumbledore asked me to look after you this summer and I intend to do so until everything's back to normal.”

Severus heard himself laugh in disbelief. Sirius gasped and looked at him.

“I don't need a nanny, Black!," Severus exclaimed, but his tone was amused.

“I only want to look after you and I've failed," Black said, lowering his eyes.

Severus stopped laughing and felt a sudden surge of emotion. How could that bloody mutt do all this to him in such a short space of time? No one, as far back as he could remember, had ever looked after him. He had always been on his own and he had managed what he could. Rather badly, to think, but he'd never cracked. And in the last few weeks, someone had come into his life, turning him from his sworn enemy into a friend he could apparently count on, even if Black seemed to blame himself for thinking the opposite.

“Black,” Severus said in a voice made weak by emotion. “Stop this. You're being really stupid.”

Black smiled apologetically and Severus felt himself blush again. Why had he never noticed how beautiful Black was? No, more than that, Black was handsome. His face with its aristocratic features framed by his black curls and grey eyes, in which everything he thought seemed to be reflected. In truth, if he was sincere, Severus had noticed it for a long time, ever since they had started studying at Hogwarts. However, he had never expressed it in words. On the other hand, he must have looked terrible! Severus was aware of his dark circles under his black eyes, thin lips, big nose that everyone had mocked him for as long as he could remember, crooked teeth, greasy hair, and two scars that he had learned to ignore, but everyone had mocked him for as long as he could remember. He felt inferior and ugly compared to Black, unworthy of his attention. He blinked and resisted the tears that were about to roll down his cheeks.

At that moment, Sirius rose from his chair and approached him. Severus felt his heart pounding against his ribs.

“What are you doing?," he croaked.

Black did not answer and knelt down beside him. He raised his hand and for a moment Severus thought he was going to hit him. But Black's hand came to rest on his forehead, and he closed his eyes.

“You don't seem to have a fever," Black said simply. “That's good, that means the side effects are starting to wear off. You had them earlier.”

Blushing, Severus looked up and found himself close to Black's smiling face. Very close to his face. He could see the detail of his full, perfectly defined lips and his three-day beard.

“Black," Severus protested, frightened that the other man could hear his heartbeat and read his mind.

“Yes," Sirius said simply.

“I... I've nothing in particular to say," Severus admitted, panicking slightly.

The Gryffindor laughed his raucous laugh and Severus thought of Padfoot. To his relief, he stood up and walked away, resuming his seat in the armchair.

“I hope you don't mind," he said, "that I let you down earlier. It won't happen again.”

“Black," Severus sighed. “I told you, you were stupid. I can take care of myself and I could have thought of food and drink on my own, so stop it.”

He meant to be firm but his tone was soft and lacking in conviction. Sirius must have sensed this, because he nodded, called to his house elf, who returned a few moments later with a tray and two steaming bowls of soup, slices of bread and two cups filled with a steaming liquid that Severus identified as tea. He sat back on the sofa, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the blanket cocoon, and they ate, discussing what Sirius had found in the books during the afternoon. It turned out that the Gryffindor had already finished reading an entire volume (he had concentrated on the passages that seemed most interesting) and had started reading a second book in which he had not yet found anything. In the first volume, there was a brief mention of amnesia caused by the vapours of particularly dangerous potions, especially those based on human blood, but Severus was certain that he had not been exposed to such substances. If he had, he would have recognised it immediately. The symptoms were very peculiar. And after all, he was an expert in potions.

“Black magic is really disgusting, isn't it," chuckled Black.

“These potions are," agreed Severus.

When they had finished their meal, they took the steaming mugs and Kreacher cleared the tray.

“Severus," said Black.

“Hm?" said the latter, lost in the feeling of ease that was spreading through him after the good meal and the warmth of the room.

“You wanted to tell me something last night," Sirius said cautiously.

“What? Oh, yes, I did," Severus frowned. “I think I know who's been holding me back this summer. Well, one of them, anyway.”

“What?" shouted Black, leaping from his chair and spilling tea. “And you're just telling me this now?”

Severus looked at him in shock.

“Well, it doesn't help us much to know at the moment," he said.

Black waved his wand and made the tea disappear. Then he sat back down and scowled.

“Who's he? And how long have you known?”

“A woman called Dolores Umbridge, and I remembered her on the first day of school, the first of September," Severus replied calmly.

“The first of September?" exclaimed Black. “And you said nothing to me all that time?”

“In case you haven't noticed, this is the first time we've seen each other since that summer," Severus replied.

“You could have... you could have written to me!”

“Our mail is monitored by the Ministry, and I'd like to avoid writing letters to Sirius Black under the nose of one of their representatives, accusing one of them of torturing me!”

“Just address the letters to Padfoot and use coded language, like Harry," Black persisted.

“Padfoot? I certainly wouldn't do that, no!," Severus choked. “I don't write to dogs!”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“That bitch Umbridge," he ranted. “Harry told me about her and I don't understand how Dumbledore can allow her to teach at Hogwarts.”

“He has no choice," said Severus. “I recognised her voice anyway. When she spoke at the banquet at the beginning of the year, I had... flashbacks. I don't remember anything really concrete," he added hastily as Black opened his mouth. “Just a big black table, a dark room and... the floor. Big dirty beige tiles. I was on the floor,” Severus said tightly. “That's it.”

“That bitch," repeated Black.

Severus would never use such a word but, surprisingly, he felt delighted by Black's anger and the insults he hurled at the old harpy.

They talked a little about Umbridge and Severus told Sirius about his discussion with Dumbledore, he also told him the story he had developed with Hagrid's help to justify his scars and Sirius smiled when he heard it.

“She's a dangerous woman though," said Sirius. “She treats Harry badly.”

“What do you mean?" asked Severus, trying to sound innocent.

“She's making him write with his own blood," Sirius growled. “If I ever face her... she hurts people I care about, she'll pay.”

Severus tried not to pay attention to the little flip-flop his stomach did when he heard that: Black had just put him in the same category as his insufferable darling godson.

“You er...," Severus began awkwardly, blushing (again!), "you can tell him to use some Essence of Murtlap next time he tells you about his wound.”

“What's that?" asked Sirius, raising his eyebrows.

“Something you should know about after you finish school,” Severus couldn't help but retort. “It's for healing wounds," he added with a sigh.

“Thank you, I'll tell him. Not that it's from you, of course," he said with a wink.

“Yes, avoid it, he wouldn't use it and think I was trying to make his pain worse.”

“Harry wouldn't think such a thing," Sirius chuckled. “He told me his Potions classes are going better this year.”

“Oh, really," Severus squinted. “But his marks are still insufficient.”

“Then he doesn't take after his mother," exclaimed Black.

Severus froze at this and felt himself turn pale. He didn't want to talk about Lily, he didn't even want to think about it. Especially not in Black's presence.

“No, not really," he whispered.

Black only seemed to half understand the message.

“You were friends once, weren't you? I miss them both too. Especially James. I miss him so much.”

Severus didn't answer. Yes, they had been friends. More than that, on his side anyway. However, hearing the name James Potter caused him to feel rising anger. Sirius apologizing for their actions was one thing. However, Severus was certain that Potter would never have done so. Potter had taken Lily away from him. Sirius would never have become his friend, had he still been alive. In that case, they would've still despised each other and would've continued to harm each other as they did before. Worse still, Severus would have remained a loyal servant of Voldemort, if James had still been alive, indicating that Severus had never received the cursed prophecy. It is possible that he would not have realized the monumental mistake he made, which cost him his own life as well as Lily's. Severus was filled with dread as he imagined living his life as a Death Eater, sustained by nothing but hatred and despair. He understood that if it weren't for the prophecy, Black wouldn't have been imprisoned in Azkaban for killing Pettigrew. It was entirely his fault. He felt terrible thinking that Black might never want to see him again if he found out what he had done. He might even want to kill him. He deserved it, Severus knew that.

“I think I'll go to bed," Black said suddenly in an immensely sad tone, and Severus realised that he too had been deep in thought.

“All right," Severus said absently.

Black stood up and approached him.

“If you need anything, I'm in my room. Don't hesitate to come and find me.”

Severus nodded, telling himself that he wouldn't knock on Black's door for the world. He saw the man continue to close the distance between them and sit down on the sofa next to him. Severus froze. Black took him in his arms, a muscular yet tender embrace. Unable to think, Severus let himself be embraced. His vision was obscured by a cloud of dark curls. Severus inhaled and the intoxicating scent of the other man filled his nostrils. Black parted quickly enough and smiled at him.

“I'm glad you woke up healthier, Severus. I'm also glad we've had all these discussions. Tomorrow we'll continue searching the other books and I promise you that if we don't find anything, I'll search every fucking book in this bloody library. If there's an explanation somewhere, we'll find it.”

With a lump in his throat and still reeling from the spontaneous embrace, Severus could only nod once more.

“Good night, Severus," said Black, rising to his feet.

The man was smiling, but Severus saw that his eyes were hidden behind a veil of sadness, no doubt caused by the memory of James.

“Good night," Severus said hoarsely.

As Black's figure moved away, Severus sank back onto the sofa and wrapped himself in the blanket. He did not merit Black's help and friendship. Because of him, he had spent his youth in prison. Severus was unable to hold back any longer and finally let the tears out that he had been holding back all evening, swaying between conflicting emotions. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and pictured Black's arms around him, as they had been a few minutes earlier.