Drunk & Drama
When the reception was over, Severus hurried to the point from which he could Apparate. He had been one of the last to leave, so as not to appear rude or hasty. Making sure no one was watching him, he cast a quick Tempus to get an idea of the time. It wasn't midnight yet, but Severus thought the Order meeting would be over, and he felt a twinge of guilt. Should he go to 12 Grimmauld Place knowing full well that it would be pointless? His only excuse was to borrow some more books from the Black library, as he had finished his own without finding anything. As he debated in his head what decision to make, he was suddenly aware of another problem: he was pretty much drunk. Swearing under his breath, Severus searched his pockets for the little vial he was sure he'd brought with him, but he couldn't find it. He must have forgotten his Sobering Potion, which he had concocted for a situation like this. Severus wasn't often drunk, but when he was, he wasn't faking it.
“Fuck," he swore half-heartedly.
What was he going to do? Mortified, he wondered if he was fit enough to Apparate. Ashamed and feeling like a teenager caught in the act, he cast Aguamenti and icy water came out of his wand. Clumsily, he put his head under the water but made a false move and found himself soaked. As a result, he stumbled and almost fell face first onto the ground. He sat up and his hair stuck to his face.
“Okay, Severus, concentrate now," he said, still in a very irritated tone.
He blushed, embarrassed at himself. With a wave of his wand, he dried himself. Then, taking several deep breaths, he closed his eyes. He felt as if he had been spinning without having to Apparate. He opened them again and stared at the darkness in front of him. And then he actually moved. He had made his decision.
Severus had to try hard not to fall as he appeared in the London square. He strode over to the nearest grove and gave up the contents of his stomach. He winced and, after making sure that no Muggles were around, he ran some water over his face and hands again and drank some. He wasn't feeling any better. Severus realised that he had eaten almost nothing, concentrating on the conversations and his Occlumency shields. He had drunk glass after glass of champagne, and as soon as his glass was emptied, an elf appeared in front of him with a tray full of new ones. Stressed by the reception and having no desire to be there, Severus realised that he had been drinking to relax and try to feel a little pleasure. A technique he knew to be disastrous, however, as he had already experienced it as a teenager. And he hated excessive drinking. It reminded him of his father, his horrible, violent, unfair muggle father.
He wiped his wet mouth with his sleeve and walked towards Sirius's house. In the back of his mind, Severus realised that he had very much hoped to be alone with Sirius. In some unmentionable dream, he longed to be pitied by Sirius; if they had been a lifelong friendship, he would have loved to go and feel sorry for himself and be comforted by the Gryffindor's muscular arms. As he climbed the few steps with uncertain steps, Severus told himself that the alcohol was making him think nonsense. He really mustn't do this. He pushed open the door, his heart pounding. He immediately saw that the kitchen was lit, but he could hear no voices.
He walked down the corridor, feeling as though he was making a lot of noise.
“Tonks, is that you?" asked Sirius' voice.
Severus tried to speak but could only cough.
Sirius emerged from the kitchen, his wand in his hand. Almost like the previous weekend.
“Severus!," he exclaimed when he saw him.
A big smile lit up his handsome face and Severus's stomach twisted in another direction, away from the knot of tension generated by the evening.
“Hello, Black," Severus said in what he thought was a halfway decent voice.
From the look on Sirius' face, his voice was correct only to his ears.
“Are you all right?" he asked, frowning. “You missed the meeting.”
”I know," he replied. “Where are the others?”
“They've gone. Tonks was the last one, she left just five minutes ago, which is why I thought it was her coming back when I heard the noise you were making in the corridor. It's a miracle my mother hasn't woken up.”
“Oh yes, sorry.”
Five minutes? That meant that within seconds Tonks could have seen Severus throwing up in the park bushes. But he was sure he hadn't seen anyone.
“Are you sure you're all right?" asked Sirius. “Dumbledore told us that you were on a mission for the Order and that you'd probably arrive in the middle of the meeting. When I saw that you hadn't arrived...”
He didn't finish his sentence and shrugged.
“I didn't think you'd come.”
“But I am here," said Severus. “Perhaps I shouldn't have?”
“On the contrary," Sirius smiled.
“Black, I'm starving.”, said suddenly Severus, not caring being polite.
“Oh, of course you are! There are some leftovers, come and sit down.”
Severus followed him into the kitchen and dropped into a chair.
“Severus, you've got such a face," exclaimed Sirius when he saw him in the light.
“What?”
“What's happened to you? You seem to have had another encounter with Voldemort.”
Severus grunted.
“I just forgot to eat," he said unwieldly.
“That doesn't answer my question.”
Sirius placed a plate of bread and scrambled eggs in front of him, which he had warmed with a wave of his wand. Severus refrained from pouncing on it. The first bite was divine.
“I was at Malfoy's," he replied.
“Well," said Sirius. “What exactly were you doing there? Wasn't there anything to eat?”
“I was on a mission.”
Severus's cheeks flushed red at his evasive answers.
“A mission where you can't eat but you can't drink," Sirius teased.
Severus felt the red burn into his cheeks.
“There were loads of elves," he explained. “I couldn't help it, it was as if my glass filled itself.”
Sirius laughed out loud.
“Severus Snape, I didn't know Death Eaters had parties like this.”
“It wasn't a Death Eater party," Severus muttered, pushing his already empty plate away. “It was a reception at Lucius and Narcissa's house. I was able to make contacts.”
“Making contacts? I bet you did. You got properly drunk at a party with your rich friends and you're trying to sell it to us as a mission for the Order!”
Severus shook his head vehemently but stopped short. He wasn't ready for that kind of gesture yet.
“You don't understand, Black.”
“Then explain it to me! You know I'm rich too, Severus? If you like, next time I'll serve you something much better than the Malfoy... what was it?”
“Champagne. Please don't do that, I don't like it.”
“What would it be like if you did like it," Black laughed again.
Severus frowned. He had hoped that Black, for some reason, would console him. For what, exactly? It was just a craving, after all.
“And what about you? Don't you ever drink? Firewisky seems to be like water to you.”
Black stopped laughing and looked at Severus.
“I don't drink champagne, Severus, it's not strong enough. Firewisky is actually one of my favourite drinks and I'll have you know that being alone and having nothing useful to do here, I enjoy spending some of my evenings in the company of a good bottle.”
“Sorry, Black," Severus said, a little ashamed of his remark. “I didn't mean to be, er... unkind.”
“It's all right," Sirius replied, though in a slightly sulky tone.
Severus felt that for once it was his turn to break the silence, to say something nice to Black.
“I've been thinking about you this week.”
Black looked at him, surprise visible on his handsome face. Severus felt himself blush terribly. What had got into him?
“What do you mean?" asked Black softly.
“It's just that... I was thinking about the weekend, our discussions, our research.”
“I see," said Black, whose expression said the opposite.
“I saw a painting of you as a child at the Malfoy house earlier. I'd never noticed it before.”
“What?" exclaimed Sirius. “Are you joking?”
“No. It seems that Narcissa is sentimental about her childhood memories, she kept a small painting from 1968 according to her. You're pushing one of her sisters onto the bed, but she's taller than you.”
“That's Andromeda, Tonks’ mother" says Sirius, smiling. “The only one of the three that I liked.”
“That's what Narcissa said too.”
“Did she tell you why she kept that painting?”
“Not really," said Severus, who couldn't remember exactly. “But she told me she couldn't remember the address of the house, despite having been there several times. The Fidelitas charm is at work.”
“It's good to know it's working at least," says Sirius. “Although you can trust Dumbledore.”
Silence fell again between the two men and Severus felt exhausted, worn out by the week of lessons, the reception and all the alcohol he'd consumed. Why didn't Black get up and give him a hug?
“Dark green suits you, Severus," said Sirius suddenly.
“What? Ah yes, thank you. McGonagall told me that too," Severus said distractedly.
“I don't think she meant it the way I did," Sirius insisted.
“Black I...”
Unsure of what to say or do, Severus shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.
“I saw Avery and Mulciber again tonight, do you remember them?”
“These little shits," Sirius growled, "of course I remember them.”
“They're Death Eaters.”
“I can't say I'm surprised, after all you were part of the same Slytherin gang, weren't you?”
“Yes," Severus said, because it was the truth. “I regret that.”
“Severus...”
“No, listen to me. I made all the wrong decisions. I wasn't strong enough to say no, to realise I was doing anything wrong.”
His voice broke and Severus felt it was time to overcome his pride and ask Sirius the question that had been burning in his mind for weeks.
“Black... what happened that night you came to my room over the summer? What did I say?”
“Oh,” said Sirius, running a hand through his hair. “You didn't say much actually, you were mostly crying.”
“Great," Severus grunted. “And I suppose you took the opportunity to call me a little Snivellus?”
“And you asked someone to stop hurting you," Sirius continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. “You swore that... that you hadn't said anything, you just wanted to be left alone. You didn't recognise me.”
“Is that all?" asked Severus, blushing slightly.
“Yes, that's all.”
Severus felt relief wash over him. He hadn't said anything about Lily, or his father, or Voldemort, who were usually the main protagonists of his nightmares. It would have been a disaster if Black had heard anything about Lily. He knew that his memories protected him and at the same time represented his greatest danger. On the other hand, what Sirius had revealed to him represented a new enigma. He had no memory of that night and he felt that somehow it could be linked to what had happened to him over the summer.
“And what did you do?" Severus finally asked, trying to sound detached.
“I tried to bring you back to reality, I talked to you and... I think I wiped away your tears.”
It was Sirius's turn to blush.
“That's how you ended up in my bed," Severus growled, not wanting to show how much he liked the idea of Black leaning over him, caressing his face.
“Yes, more or less. You asked me to stay.”
“And you stayed.”
“I stayed.”
Severus was at a loss for words.
“That was... kind of you, Black.”
“I didn't mind. Sleeping next to you, I mean.”
“Well, next time I have a nightmare I'll be sure to give you a call," Severus tried to be ironic, but he didn't want to admit to himself how much he wished it were true.
Sirius gave a hoarse little laugh.
“This wasn't a normal nightmare. I know you don't want to hear about this, but... I have this kind of nocturnal crisis sometimes too. Because of Azkaban, and especially the night when... well, I've already explained. It's because of these traumas. You really need to find out what triggered this, Severus.”
“I know, Black! I can't remember anything, what more am I supposed to do? Go and ask Umbridge?”
“Use Veritaserum," suggested Sirius.
“Do you think I've never thought of that? I don't see under what circumstances I could do that and ask her about what happened. I think she knows that I know too, I can see it in her eyes. She doesn't care, it means she wasn't alone and that she's protected in some way.”
“We're not getting anywhere with this," Sirius said in frustration. “Is Dumbledore going to investigate her?”
“Yes, he promised.”
“That's something. And if not... have you thought about using a Pensieve?”
Severus had thought about it.
“Black, the principle of this magical object is precisely to get rid of the thoughts and memories you have, but my problem is precisely that they're not there.”
“But you did remember that wooden table, didn't you? If you put that memory there, maybe...”
“It doesn't work like that," sighed Severus. “To see a memory in detail, you have to have more than just bits and pieces.”
“All right," said Sirius, giving up.
Black looked disappointed but also more beautiful than ever.
“Thanks for trying... Sirius," Severus said shyly.
The Gryffindor looked up and smiled at him.
“Apparently you've just remembered my first name, that's something," he joked.
Severus sighed but couldn't prevent a small smile from forming on the tip of his lips.
“How are you feeling?" asked Black.
“I'm fine but I've got a headache," Severus admitted.
“It'll be worse tomorrow.”
“Thank you for your support," Severus grunted.
The other man said nothing. Severus noted that he looked tired too. He answered Severus's questions with less gusto than usual, seemed unusually quiet for his personality.
“Black... you were always asking how I am but... what about you?”
“Me?" asked Sirius, looking surprised. “I'm fine. I'm not doing anything here, I'm stuck. I've never spent as much time in my parents' library as I have in the last few days, and I don't like it.”
Severus felt guilty.
“Besides, I can't find anything useful, nothing but horrors in these bloody books," grumbled Sirius.
“Sorry," Severus said flatly. “You don't have to go on, you know, I can do it myself.”
“No, it's doing it for you that keeps me going.”
“What the hell does it mean? If you don't like it, stop it and that's all," Severus said.
“I keep my word, Severus, there's no point trying to talk me out of it. Anyway, that's not why I'm tired, I...”
Sirius cut off his sentence and Severus felt as if he were hesitating to tell him the real reason for his strange mood. The Slytherin realised that this hesitation saddened him.
“There's something else, but maybe I'm worrying for nothing," sighed Sirius.
“Tell me, maybe I can help you this time," Severus said, trying not to sound too eager to know.
“It's Remus," Sirius said in a groan.
Of course, it has to be about Remus bloody Lupin.
“What about Lupin?”, said Severus through gritted teeth.
“He's disappeared," replied Sirius.
“Disappeared?" repeated Severus, frowning. “I thought he was on a mission for the Order.”
“That's just it, he didn't come back when he was supposed to this week. No one's heard anything about him.”
“Come on, Black, it's only a few days. It's normal to be delayed on this kind of mission. He was supposed to observe his... his peers, wasn't he?”
Sirius nodded.
“He'll probably be back in the next few days, that doesn't mean anything's happened to him.”
“He missed the Portkey, even though he knew exactly when and where to take it. How is he going to get back now? Since everyone knows he's a werewolf, he doesn't look good in public.”
Severus felt his insides clench. Sirius's words were a far more effective cold shower than his own attempts.
“I... I was an idiot. I was so angry, I shouldn't have done it.”
It wasn't entirely true, Severus didn't really regret revealing Lupin's nature to the public, but he had a feeling Black wouldn't want to hear anything else now. And for some reason, Severus felt like saying whatever would please Sirius. Deep down, he didn't give a damn about that bloody werewolf, but Lupin was best friends with... with whom exactly? Someone Severus liked but didn't know how much.
“Yes, you’re really to blame on that one," muttered Sirius.
Sirius ran his hands over his handsome face and pulled his hair back. He left his fingers tangled in his black curls and Severus had a sudden urge to plunge his own fingers through the silky curls he imagined.
“Sorry," Severus repeated with a frown.
“You'll just have to tell him yourself," Sirius said, lifting his head. “When he comes back.”
“Right," Severus said, hoping Black would forget about the idea by then.
Feeling suddenly too much, Severus stood up.
“Where are you going?" asked Black.
“I think it's time for me to go home.”
“Home? To Hogwarts?
“Where else do you want me to go?" scoffed Severus.
“I thought you were going to stay here," Sirius said in a dead voice. “But if you have things to do at school, I don't want to stop you.”
He waved his hand wearily. Severus had a few papers to grade, but nothing urgent.
“I don't want to bother you by being here every weekend," he said.
“How many times do I have to tell you? You're not bothering me. I've got nothing to do, I hardly see anyone, my best friend is lost somewhere, my godson is being chased by a madman who's wanted to kill him since he was born, I've spent half my life in prison, and I could go on! Do you really think you're bothering me? After what I said to you last week? You give me the strength to fight Severus, but tonight, tonight I confess I'm fucking worried and tired!”
Severus felt embarrassed and unsure of how to react. Black made a sound of distress. This was the first time the Slytherin had witnessed the man in front of him show any signs of weakness. Though Sirius had opened up to him, he had never cried in Severus' company. He did not appear to be a broken man who relied on others for support. Awkwardly, Severus stood up and approached Sirius with fear in his heart. He wondered if Black would reject him. Ever since Lily, he hadn't turned to someone for solace. That was many years ago. Usually, Severus avoided any indication of weakness and found himself unable to respond. He didn't want to react, but even if he did, no one would seek comfort from him, Severus Snape. But that evening, he stumbled over to Black and halted before him. Sirius had turned away from the table, shifting in his chair with his left elbow propped on the surface. Severus inhaled deeply, expecting Black's inevitable rejection to occur any moment.
Severus approached Black, taking one step and then another until he was almost up against him. Black lifted his head to meet Severus's dark, doe-eyed gaze. Though for once Black was the smaller of the two, he did not reject Severus's embrace. Slowly, Black's hands settled on the small of Severus's back and squeezed as Severus placed himself between Black's spread legs and rested his hands on Black's shoulders. Sirius pulled him close, resting his head on Severus's chest, perhaps over his heart. Severus felt Sirius listening to the pounding beat, but he didn't mind. He leaned towards him, reaching for the tangle of black curls as Sirius buried his head in his robes. He stroked his fingers through the middle of Sirius's hair, noting the silky texture of the curls. As he felt Sirius's breath against him, he became aware of his own physical reaction.
He cursed silently, feeling the blood surge to his groin. Black's head was resting against him, his breathing evident through the fabric of Severus' clothes as he stroked the man's hair. It was overwhelming. Severus knew he needed to pull away before he did something foolish. Black would surely soon recognise Severus' intentions and push him away, appalled. Betrayed by his body and the desires he wouldn't even admit to himself. He jerked away from Black before it was too late. Sirius looked at him in surprise, clearly not expecting Severus to break their embrace so suddenly.
“I have to go," Severus said breathlessly. “See you around, Black.”
Then he stormed out of the kitchen, dashing down the corridor and out into the open, leaving Black no chance of catching him. He stumbled on the steps in front of the door and just about regained his balance. He walked away into the square and once he had put some distance between himself and Black's house, he dared to look down and saw that a large bulge had formed under his robes.