Madly, Deeply, Black

Severus stood in the corridor for a long time, staring at the door that had just closed on Sirius. He felt nauseous, something was wrong, but he didn't know exactly what it was. All his life he had fought personal attachments and affections, preparing himself for the task that awaited him if the Dark Lord were to return; a possibility that in Dumbledore's eyes had never been in doubt. He was the ideal candidate, nobody liked him, and he didn't like anybody, Lily being dead. He had no friends, no family and an extraordinary brain and magical abilities. He was the very spy he had agreed to be, half-compelled by grief and not blackmail. He would never have considered the possibility of someone interfering with his plans, certainly not so soon after the Dark Lord's return, and certainly not in the person of Sirius Black.

But now Severus was standing in front of the closed door of the man's room, in his own home, and he felt like an idiot who had just had his heart ripped out. The nausea that had assailed him from the moment he awoke deepened inside him, and he realised that fear was turning his stomach. What would happen if Voldemort discovered his feelings for Sirius, even if Severus refused to name and accept them? “He never found out about Lily”, said a small voice in his head, “he won't see Sirius”. Severus was annoyed by the presence of this voice, which lately seemed to be urging him to take every possible risk.

After a moment, Severus decided to move. With his heart still in his throat, he looked at the door a little further along the same side of the corridor as Sirius'. He immediately recognised the initials of Regulus, who had studied at Slytherin with himself when he was a year younger. Sirius had told him he could carry on exploring the house on his own, so did that mean he could afford to push open the door to Regulus' old room? Something deep inside him compelled him to do that, he was curious to know how Regulus had lived. Sirius hated him and was impervious to anything Severus had to say. But a thought formed in him, a thought that perhaps had never really left him, but it had been forgotten, relegated to the background by everything else. What really bothered Severus about the way Black talked about his family, and his brother in particular, was that he, Severus, had always looked at Sirius Black with envy. He would have dreamed of being born into a family like his, and of having a brother like Regulus. During his first years at Hogwarts, this feeling of envy had consumed him and made him dislike Sirius even more than he already did.

With a last hint of hesitation, he put his hand on the handle and opened the door. Severus found himself in front of a room that might have been part of the Slytherin common room. Green and silver draped the entire walls, and the four-poster bed was also covered in what appeared to be satin sheets and blankets in Slytherin colours. Severus entered the room and closed the door behind him. Photographs and articles covered part of the walls and Severus saw that they were newspaper articles about Voldemort. He frowned as he read some of the headlines and noticed that Regulus had only kept articles about Death Eaters and Voldemort's powers, but none that mentioned the terrible deaths that had taken place. Next to his bed, Severus saw a photograph and recognised the Slytherin Quidditch team with Regulus in the middle, shorter than the others, a golden snitch in his hand. It struck him how much the two Black brothers looked alike. Severus stared at the picture for a long time, scrutinising every detail of Regulus's face, and had the strange thought that he looked like a failed portrait of Sirius. It was as if someone had wanted to paint Sirius, but the features had been slightly out of place or badly proportioned. The resemblance was striking but, Severus blushed slightly, Sirius was undeniably the better looking of the two.

He finally took his eyes off Regulus' aristocratic features and continued his exploration of the room. He approached the desk and began to open the drawers inside. In one of them he found an envelope containing more articles on Voldemort, pages of torn schoolbooks and bits of broken quill pens. Severus also found a piece of parchment with what he assumed was the title of a book written on it. He read 'Secrets of the Darkest Art'. Severus frowned, he'd seen that title somewhere before but he couldn't remember where. Regulus had probably written that title to remind himself to look for the book he was interested in. A teenager interested in dark magic can only turn to books to hope to learn anything.

He put the paper back in the drawer and closed it, there was nothing particularly exciting in this room. Severus left and returned to the corridor, he knew that all the other doors led to guest rooms or bathrooms. He headed up the stairs to the second floor, he had only seen the library in this part of the house and Severus was particularly keen to see Orion Black's study. What could a man of his stature be hiding in there? Severus was secretly hoping to stumble across some magical objects to show Sirius that he could fight dark magic as well as practise it. He found the room right next to the very large library that took up most of the floor. He pushed open the door, which swung open without resistance, and entered Sirius's father's room. More bookshelves covered the walls, and the wood seemed to be struggling to bear the weight of the large volumes. A very old-looking black desk sat in the middle of the room opposite a large window with dark green curtains drawn. Like everywhere else, it smelt of mould and dust and Severus wrinkled his nose. On a low table near the window sat a large gold globe and Severus saw that it represented the wizarding communities around the world and that hundreds of names were written in small letters as it was turned. Each country grew larger according to the number of wizards present and Severus twirled the globe between his fingers, amazed at the usefulness of such an object. Then, as he read the names that appeared and disappeared again, he realised that these were the pureblood families of each community. Where Great Britain was, he read “Black, Lestrange, Weasley...” and others inscribed.

Fascinated, Severus ran his long, slender fingers over the golden surface and read “Delacour, Gallant, Leroy...” where France was. A fleeting image of the Beauxbatons champion returned to his mind; he had had no idea that she belonged to a large pureblood family. After rotating the object for a moment, watching the shapes grow and shrink around the globe, Severus took his eyes off it and returned to the desk. He opened the drawers and found all sorts of documents relating to the family's finances and magical contracts. Severus stifled an exclamation as he saw a monstrous figure inscribed before his eyes, which apparently was the sum that had been in the Black family's Gringotts vault in 1975. He knew Sirius was rich, but not that rich. And to think he was still wearing the same old Muggle jeans with holes in them and teenage T-shirts. No wonder he'd given Potter a Firebolt for his birthday like he'd bought a pair of socks. Severus thought that only the Lestrange could potentially match such a fortune, but that even families like the Malfoys were nowhere near the wealth of the Blacks.

As Severus put the parchments back where he had found them, he saw something fall from the drawer. He turned the paper over and saw a photograph, yellowed, and weathered. With a twinge of pain, he recognised a man who must have been Sirius's father, because he looked very much like him, except that he had a black beard that covered half his face. He was sitting in a garden and two little boys were sitting on each of his laps. Sirius and Regulus couldn't have been more than five and four years old. Severus put the photograph back in the drawer and thought that Orion must have kept it with him all this time, not wanting to throw it away, a memento of perhaps a day when he had been the happy father of two little boys who had not been separated by politics.

Severus then approached a locked display case, which he opened with a wave of his wand. It must have been some sort of protection, intended solely to keep its contents safe from children. Small vials lay on glass shelves and Severus wondered what they might be. He immediately recognised a vial of Veritasserum and a tiny dose of Felix Felicis. Examining them cautiously and holding the bottles up to the light, Severus identified no less than two very potent poisons and the thought immediately occurred to him that Walburga Black must have had plenty of choice when it came to killing herself. The last bottle, however, remained unknown to him. Curious, Severus put it in his pocket with the intention to ask Sirius if he could take it away to analyse it. Other valuables littered the room: an old telescope that must have been worth a fortune, a clock with the Black coat of arms and a silver balance.

Severus sighed, the contents of this room were certainly equivalent to several years of his salary. He left the room with a vague, slightly crazy thought of what it would be like to belong to that family. He would have liked to go to the library, but the door decorated with snakes and vegetation was closed and only a Black could open it. In front of him it remained closed.

Feeling that his mood had subsided once more, Severus headed for his room with the intention of correcting some homework that he had taken with him. After glancing at Sirius's room, he settled into the armchair and set to work. He soon realised that occupying his mind with something so normal almost felt good compared to the other thoughts he had now. It was habitual, comforting. The repetition gave him a form of satisfaction and took him back to a time when marking his students' essays was one of the most tedious tasks of his week. A good time. Severus spent the rest of the day at it, interrupted only by Kreacher bringing him a tray of chicken and chips for lunch. Severus thought Sirius must have sent it and was grateful.

By the time evening fell, Severus was feeling tired, the good kind of tired when you know the day has been productive. Distracted for a few hours from his feelings for Sirius and his spy missions, he got up ready to have a glass of wine with Sirius. Immediately he felt his stomach knot slightly as he thought about the subject of Potter's dreams, which he had to broach in order to satisfy his two masters. If only he could have a quiet evening free of all duties and enjoy the present moment. With a sigh he headed for the kitchen. When he entered the room, he saw that Black was not there and he tried to repress the disappointment that invaded his senses. Then he heard a voice calling to him from the next room.

“Severus, is that you? I'm in the little living-room.”

Sirius's voice sent sparks flying somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Of course he was in there, Sirius had told him it was his favourite room and Severus loved it too. A fire was roaring in the small fireplace and Sirius was sitting at one end of the soft sofa, an open book in his hand and an open bottle on a table beside him, along with two wine glasses. When Severus's gaze fell on Sirius, he felt his mouth go dry. What had happened to him? The Gryffindor looked different, he looked... he looked even better than usual, if that was possible. Severus realised that Sirius's dark, curly hair cascaded perfectly down his shoulders and rippled like the jagged waves of a stream. His grey eyes rested on Severus and his tight-lipped mouth stretched into a smile. But something else had caught the Slytherin's eye: instead of the usual rebellious Muggle gear he wore every day, Sirius had donned trousers that must have been cut from dark red silk, almost black. He had pulled on a white shirt, tucked into his trousers, the first buttons of which were open, revealing part of Sirius's torso. Severus saw part of one of the tattoos he had spotted one day at the end of the summer. He wore immaculate black boots that came to just above his ankles. His unkempt posture, the aura in his grey eyes and the book dangling from his hand made Severus almost want to jump on him and rip the rest of the buttons off his shirt.

His mouth dry as if he hadn't had a drink for days, Severus stared at Sirius without saying a word. The smile on the Gryffindor's lips faded.

“Are you all right? You don't look well, sit down,” he offered.

Severus snapped back to reality. He felt himself blush and inwardly cursed himself for not paying more attention to his own appearance. How did he look next to someone like Sirius? His hair hung down around his face, he was wearing his usual black clothes and he certainly needed a shower. A feeling of frustration suddenly overcame him: how could he imagine that Black was interested in him? They were like night and day, Severus thought. He thought ruefully that he had never seen anyone with such charm. Even Lily had never triggered the waves of warmth that ran through his body as they did now.
“You've changed," Severus remarked, trying to look indifferent.

“Yes, I thought I might make a little effort. After all, we're opening a bottle worth several hundred gold Galleons,” joked Sirius.

“Several hundred what?" exclaimed Severus.

“Yeah, Kreacher told me. He keeps track of all the dates and all the specifics of our bottles, it's part of his job. So when my parents had people over, he always knew which bottle to choose according to the social status of the guests.”

“I'm certainly a guest of exceptional rank," Severus quipped.

“Quite," laughed Sirius.

Severus took his place next to Sirius on the sofa, trying not to touch him and to stay as far away from him as possible.

“How's your headache?," he asked.

“Much better," replied Sirius. “I slept a bit and it went away.”

Severus swore that he saw a blush pass over Sirius's face. He hesitated to use the Legilimency to discover the origin of the blush, but gave up this idea.

“What are you reading?”

Sirius turned the book over to show Severus the name.

“Lovecraft," he read aloud. “I've never heard of him.”

“He's a Muggle," Sirius explained. “An American. He writes horror and fantastic stuff.”

“Oh, that sounds fascinating," Severus said sarcastically.

“It is," said Sirius passionately. “It's incredibly well written, and although I think that this guy sounds like he was a twat who would have been perfectly at home in the Death Eaters, I have to admit that he has an undeniable talent. I read his stories when I was younger and I came across this collection again today. You know, I think I'm impressed by the way he describes things that don't exist and don't even have a name for them. He makes you imagine the unimaginable. The way he talks about madness and the space between sanity and the loss of all sense I... I think I find myself a little bit there sometimes.
Severus looked at Sirius, a surprised expression on his face.

“It's like when the ancient Greek Muggles referred to the sea as dark red because there was no word for blue yet. Blue didn't exist in language and representations, yet it was very real.”

“Black, did you have a drink before I arrived?”

“Only tea," replied Sirius, his eyes laughing. “Shall we try that wine?”

Still a little shocked, Severus nodded and let Sirius fill his glass. The smell enveloped his senses and he knew before he had even dipped his lips that it was the best he had ever drunk. That assumption proved correct after the two men had toasted each other and the liquid flowed into Severus's mouth. It was divine.

“What did you do today?" asked Sirius.

Severus told him that he had been correcting some scrolls and told him about his brief visit to the house.

“I found this in your father's study," he said, taking the small vial from his pocket. “I can't identify it at first sight and I thought I'd take it to Hogwarts to have it analysed.”

“Of course, but be careful," warned Sirius. “It's probably dangerous.”

“That's my impression too, but I can handle it," Severus replied.

He took another sip of the delicious wine. He could feel Black's presence beside him without even looking at him. He knew how attractive he was and automatically felt his stomach tighten as he thought of how he himself must look. He felt more neglected than ever.

“What are you going to do for Christmas?," Sirius asked suddenly.

“I er... nothing," Severus replied, caught off guard.

“Why don't you come here," Sirius suggested cheerfully, and Severus had the distinct impression that Sirius had been thinking about it for some time.
“I don't know," he replied. “I don't like Christmas. I usually stay at Hogwarts to help look after the remaining students.”

“I'm sure they can do without you, it's never very busy.”

It was true, but Severus felt very uncomfortable about the idea of spending Christmas outside Hogwarts, which would mean he would have to celebrate it. He wasn't sure he'd ever spent a Christmas the way Sirius probably imagined it: with presents, a good meal and loved ones around. No, definitely, only good meals served by Hogwarts elves could be ticked off the list.

“Black, I don't like Christmas, I don't want to celebrate it.”

“Even here with me?" asked Sirius in such a disappointed tone that Severus almost gave in immediately.

Of course, he wanted to spend Christmas with Sirius, but he simply didn't know what to expect and he didn't feel ready to suddenly accept an offer that was such a radical departure from his usual routine.

“It's not that, I just... I never give presents and nobody gives me presents, I don't like the Christmas spirit, and I don't think I'd be good company.”

“What do you mean nobody gives you presents?”

“Black, I don't know if it's escaped your notice, but I'm not exactly the type of bloke to have a big loving family and a bunch of nice friends,” Severus scoffed.

“Even Dumbledore?”

“Oh yes, he always gets me something. But I don't offer him anything in return, I work for him, that's enough.”

Sirius laughed.

“Can you at least think about it? I don't want to be here on my own. I don't know where Remus is going to be and Harry's spending Christmas with the Weasleys. Dumbledore doesn't want me to go and I'm not sure Molly would let me stay with her anyway.”

A veil seemed to fall over Sirius's face. Severus felt his heart quicken, Sirius was finally giving him a chance to broach the subject of Potter!

“Potter doesn't want to come here with you?”

“Oh, I'm sure Harry would like me to come to the Weasleys, but no one wants to spend any more time in this house than they have to," Sirius said bitterly.

“I don't think Potter's very... happy this year," Severus remarked.

“I'm not surprised, with that horrible woman and the way the press are treating him.”

“He's not allowed to play Quidditch any more,” said Severus.

“What?" exclaimed Sirius, putting his glass down roughly on the table beside him. “What's all this about?”

Severus told him about the scene at the end of the first Quidditch match of the season and its aftermath.

“That little scumbag Malfoy," spat Sirius, "and that old harpy...”

“Have you heard from him lately?" asked Severus, trying to sound detached.

“No," said Sirius, still fuming. “We can't send each other any more letters, especially as Umbridge nearly caught me in the Gryffindor chimney...”

“Black!" exclaimed Severus. “What did you say?”

“I had to talk to Harry. He's been at me about taking unnecessary risks anyway, sometimes he's not as much like James as I thought, he's more like Lily in his behaviour.”

Severus frowned and preferred not to say anything about what he thought of that statement.

“So he didn't say anything specific to you?”

“No, not that I can remember. But why are you suddenly interested in him?" asked Sirius with a note of suspicion in his voice.

“Dumbledore's worried about him,” Severus replied at once.

“All he has to do is ask Harry directly how he's doing!”

Severus shrugged. He was disappointed that he had learned nothing, and with a twinge of guilt he thought about what Voldemort would say or do to him if he had nothing to tell him the next time they met. Lost in thought, Severus finished his drink when Sirius said:

“It's amazing how war destroys everything, isn't it? It's impossible to be happy for more than two minutes at a time these days.”

Severus didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't sure he'd ever been happy. But he understood the meaning of Sirius's words, there was always a discussion that tainted the atmosphere when it was relaxed.