Chapter One
If one looked upon the figure drinking idly at the counter of the leaky cauldron, they wouldn't suspect that he had once had a hollowed face or dark eyes or ratty, dirty hair. This man didn't have a gaunt frame, or torn robes. He was not the man that the world had seen all over the news just two years ago. He was handsome, with light green-silver eyes and black hair that would have fallen down to his shoulders had it not been bound back by a small piece of leather. His ears were pierced; one with a silver ring, the other with a diamond stud. The man wore faded jeans, a black, tight shirt, and a velvet navy jacket. He looked to be about twenty. There was, however, something familiar about him to the other wizards and witches in the pub. They just couldn't dream that he was a condemned murderer, on the run form both the muggle government and the ministry of magic.
But if one could say anything about him, Sirius Black could bluff like the devil. That was what he had been trained to do. All his life, he had wanted to be a con man. Of course, his strong morals got in the way of that. Before the world had turned on him, he had gained a secure position in the Daily Prophet. He was, actually at that moment, reading an article that he thought should have been his.
"'…Blah, blah… new Galleon to be printed blah, blah, blah….' Honestly, it's rubbish." He put down the crumpled paper and leaned his head on the counter. He didn't even want to count the grammatical errors.
"Another drink, governor?" asked Tom with a worried, toothless, insincere smile.
"Whiskey," said Sirius without lifting his head. "Make it a double."
"Right away." Tom bustled away. He didn't trust the new patron. Where had he seen him before?
"Nice bloke," thought Black to himself, "though a bit paranoid. He hasn't seen shit to make him paranoid. No one can be really truly paranoid, until they've seen what I've seen." Black decided to think of happier days with his best friend in the world, though when he thought back, he felt guilty. It wasn't James he remembered, and that broke his already torn spirit. It was Severus. His brother. His best friend for life.
"Imbecile," hissed Sirius under his breath. Snape had never trusted anyone; and for years, Sirius thought that he had won that trust. But the moment he had found new friends at Hogwarts, Severus had gotten jealous. He had been wrong. A Black was never wrong… and he didn't know if that utterance of 'imbecile' was directed toward himself or his ex best friend or Tom the bartender, who was seemingly taking far too long with that whiskey. Just as he was about to finally raise his head and demand better service, the toothless man slammed the drink by his elbow.
"Damn," Sirius mused. "I would have liked a good yell. It's better anyway; I should keep a low profile."
It had been quite awhile since he had been in Britain. After the Triwizard tournament, he had bustled off to New York, and had been propped up by a good friend of Dumbledore's. She was a millionaire, a writer, producer, director, and stock genius, as well as a talented Empath. She was a good friend; the jacket and earrings were hers. He missed her dearly. Reaching blindly in his pocket, he found a crumpled letter, written in her hasty scrawl in sparkling navy ink. He lifted his forehead from the bar and read.
Sirius,
Moron, I hate to see you leave. The place will be empty with just me and Alex to occupy it. I can't believe I probably won't see you again. Odd, isn't it? It seems as if we've known each other for centuries. Well, it will be quiet, that's for sure. I'll have no one to get zonked with. 'Xandria isn't one for drink, as you know. Were-prude. I swear…. But anyway, dear friend, if you ever need money or a place to sleep or warm bourbon or just another buddy, owl me and I'll fly you over.
Alexandria sends her love with mine, and we both leave a jacket, earrings, and a lighter for you. It's not much; if you need or desire anything else, it's yours. Take care,
Quenn
He had to smile for once. The girl had a way with words. Sirius rolled his eyes and stuffed the parchment back into his pocket. The clock on the wall read 11:55; it was there as a just-in-case. Black checked it. He had five minutes of precious solitude left, and he intended to use them wisely.
'Using time wisely' to him consisted of getting smashed and getting laid. However, as he didn't have enough time for the latter, he would have to settle for the former. Besides, the person he wished to lay with was absent at the time. Just the memory of those sweet almond eyes made him long for the fairyland of intoxication, and he took a long swig of the drink set out before him. Another, another, once more… and he was slightly fuzzy and warm, though the one place he was truly cold would never be warmed again.
He was washed with the summer humidity as the door opened, but along with the tepid breeze came a frigid gust, and Sirius, despite his drunkenness, knew who had entered the Leaky Cauldron. The rustle of cloth, the trapping of boots on the dusty wood floor… and suddenly, all sound stopped. Black did not have to turn.
"Hello Severus."
"Black. It's not quite a pleasure." The voice came in a low hiss.
"Have a seat. Have a drink." Sirius was sneering uncontrollably. Why did they both have to be so goddamn bitter? There was a scraping of a stool beside him, but he could not look his visitor in the face. He turned away.
"You've changed," Snape said offhandedly. "Fifteen years ago, you would have been trying to fling a curse at me."
"You've changed, too. Twenty-five years ago, you would have been embracing me like a brother."
"It's not me who has changed. It's the times." Snape's voice grew louder. "Tom."
"Professor, what can I do for you?"
"Iced Butterbeer. Alcoholic."
"Yessir."
Sirius had begun to study the floorboards. They were quite interesting and… blurry. It was decidedly better than looking at a blurry Severus Snape. Before he knew what was happening, he was blinking back tears. He could not cry…
"Look up, man. We're both adults here."
Black swallowed hard and raised his head. Looking into those eyes was like staring into the sun. Two, shimmering orbs glowing with hatred. "Well, I hate you too," Sirius thought crossly. "Two can play at that game."
"I should hope so," he said aloud. "I assume they aren't letting students into teaching positions at Hogwarts these days?"
"Oh, I suppose you think you're very witty," Snape countered with a sneer as his Butterbeer was set down beside him. "You always thought you were. So maybe you haven't changed as much as I'd believed." He raised the thick, foamy mug. "Cheers."
"To what, pray tell?" Sirius chided, ignoring the insult.
Severus sipped, and then lowered the glass, raising a greasy ebony eyebrow. "Anything that we can find to be cheery about at this point."
"It's true," Black sighed in resignation, draining the last of his glass. "We haven't come here to rip each other to pieces. Though that is slightly the preferred subject of conversation."
"Be serious for once, man."
"I was born Sirius. I doubt I ever will be serious, though."
"You've had too much drink. It's characteristic of you."
"If I can still count to twenty, I'm alright," he said, rolling off the digits in his head. He had to be at least partially sober for the words to come, though he very much didn't want to be.
"Then shall we begin?"
"If we must. I'm sure it will get this little reunion over faster if we start now."
"Then we have the same goals in mind." Severus reached into his purse, retrieving a small key. He beckoned Tom over, and he came to lead them to the private room. Once there, Snape inserted the key in the slot, obviously entrusting the small treasure to no one else.
"Talk about paranoid," thought Sirius. Same hooked nose, same greasy coal-black hair… same ruthless attitude. But he would shoot himself before he had any feelings of munificence toward the taller man. Just because Severus was still the brother he once knew… didn't mean he was still his brother.
They stepped inside, and just as Tom was about to set foot inside as well, Snape slammed the door in his face, bolting it quickly. "I swear to God," he muttered to himself. "How nosy can one be?"
"He's a pub owner," said Black, falling into a cushioned seat at the cherrywood conference table. "It's in his job description."
"Indeed."
Was it the whiskey, or was Snape being almost… civil? The whiskey. It was most definitely the whiskey. Severus took a seat by the almost inebriated convict and pulled out a file. "This is a list of all those you must contact for help. It will be dangerous, as you know. They will not trust you. But there are letters being sent to each from Dumbledore, so I think you will be alright."
"Why don't you go to them?"
"Are you kidding? They hate me. And you were Hogwarts' golden boy; they love you."
"Honestly, holding a grudge at a time like this…."
"I know, but we're ones to talk." They stopped and stared at each other. Acting against his first instincts, Sirius refrained from clasping the taller man and instead took the file. "Arabella… Mundungus… Taver… Lissa… of course."
"And you will be staying with Lupin, of course." Snape bared his teeth. "Do be careful there. You don't know how wild beasts will act."
"Oh, do shove it," said Sirius, as he was too weary to do anything else. He did still feel a bit betrayed that even his own lover had thought that he could… but no matter. Now was no time to reminisce. And they were undoubtedly no longer lovers. The embrace in the Shrieking Shack had more than proven that. It was like being hung up on with a muggle phone. He shook his head to clear the memories. "Why in hell do you hate him so much? He never did anything to you."
Snape only snorted in ridicule.
"You of all people should know, it's not his fault."
"I'm surprised at you. You aren't trying to rip my balls out for insulting one of your 'friends.'"
"Yeah, well, as you so eloquently stated earlier, times have changed. I can't go round, killing everyone who says a wrong thing about anyone."
"I don't think that has anything to do with it."
"Look who knows so much." Sirius really needed another shot. Of anything.
"We're done now," said Severus calmly, rising from the table. "Lupin's address is in the folder."
"Yes."
Snape headed toward the door, but Black's voice stopped him cold. "Listen, come back. Let's have a chat."
"About what?"
"Anything."
"You're cracked." But the potions master sat down anyway.
"Remember that one time, when we spent the day at the muggle mall, and we sang Genesis songs the entire time?"
"We were ten."
"So you remember?"
"Not really. And I don't think I want to."
"Don't you remember when we bought our school supplies together?"
"The first year… and then you met Potter."
"I didn't dump you, Snape," scolded Sirius. "You dumped me." Fire was blazing in his eyes now. "What was that about, anyway?"
There was silence in the room.
"I… don't know."
More silence. They could hear the endless buzz of action out in the main pub. Sirius sighed, only to be interrupted by Severus' cold voice.
"You remember when you tried to kill me?" He snarled. "You wouldn't have done that before you met Potter or Pettigrew or Lupin. You were a good student. They ruined you."
"Having fun is better than having a stick so far up your arse you don't know the meaning of the word! You always swept around in your little shadow world, self-pitying and hurtful. You could have joined us."
"Not as a Slytherin, Black, and you know it. Besides, do you think toying around with someone's life is fun?"
"You ought to turn that finger around, you know. You spent your days on vengeance. All you did was try to get Remus expelled."
"The preacher ought to listen to his own sermon once in a while." They were standing now, their faces close together, their lips raised revealing two sets of shining white teeth. In one quick movement, their arms went around each other, Sirius' face pressed against his enemy's shoulder. "They stole you."
"No one stole me. I'm a living, breathing human being, and no one can steal me." They backed away from each other and stared each other in the face. Their eyes were no longer shining with animosity, but friendship. In a flash, they were embracing again. "I need a friend, Severus. Can you help me?"
"Why, that was what I was about to say."
In their minds, both softened with liquor, they both wondered what they had been fighting about for all those years.
If one looked upon the figure drinking idly at the counter of the leaky cauldron, they wouldn't suspect that he had once had a hollowed face or dark eyes or ratty, dirty hair. This man didn't have a gaunt frame, or torn robes. He was not the man that the world had seen all over the news just two years ago. He was handsome, with light green-silver eyes and black hair that would have fallen down to his shoulders had it not been bound back by a small piece of leather. His ears were pierced; one with a silver ring, the other with a diamond stud. The man wore faded jeans, a black, tight shirt, and a velvet navy jacket. He looked to be about twenty. There was, however, something familiar about him to the other wizards and witches in the pub. They just couldn't dream that he was a condemned murderer, on the run form both the muggle government and the ministry of magic.
But if one could say anything about him, Sirius Black could bluff like the devil. That was what he had been trained to do. All his life, he had wanted to be a con man. Of course, his strong morals got in the way of that. Before the world had turned on him, he had gained a secure position in the Daily Prophet. He was, actually at that moment, reading an article that he thought should have been his.
"'…Blah, blah… new Galleon to be printed blah, blah, blah….' Honestly, it's rubbish." He put down the crumpled paper and leaned his head on the counter. He didn't even want to count the grammatical errors.
"Another drink, governor?" asked Tom with a worried, toothless, insincere smile.
"Whiskey," said Sirius without lifting his head. "Make it a double."
"Right away." Tom bustled away. He didn't trust the new patron. Where had he seen him before?
"Nice bloke," thought Black to himself, "though a bit paranoid. He hasn't seen shit to make him paranoid. No one can be really truly paranoid, until they've seen what I've seen." Black decided to think of happier days with his best friend in the world, though when he thought back, he felt guilty. It wasn't James he remembered, and that broke his already torn spirit. It was Severus. His brother. His best friend for life.
"Imbecile," hissed Sirius under his breath. Snape had never trusted anyone; and for years, Sirius thought that he had won that trust. But the moment he had found new friends at Hogwarts, Severus had gotten jealous. He had been wrong. A Black was never wrong… and he didn't know if that utterance of 'imbecile' was directed toward himself or his ex best friend or Tom the bartender, who was seemingly taking far too long with that whiskey. Just as he was about to finally raise his head and demand better service, the toothless man slammed the drink by his elbow.
"Damn," Sirius mused. "I would have liked a good yell. It's better anyway; I should keep a low profile."
It had been quite awhile since he had been in Britain. After the Triwizard tournament, he had bustled off to New York, and had been propped up by a good friend of Dumbledore's. She was a millionaire, a writer, producer, director, and stock genius, as well as a talented Empath. She was a good friend; the jacket and earrings were hers. He missed her dearly. Reaching blindly in his pocket, he found a crumpled letter, written in her hasty scrawl in sparkling navy ink. He lifted his forehead from the bar and read.
Sirius,
Moron, I hate to see you leave. The place will be empty with just me and Alex to occupy it. I can't believe I probably won't see you again. Odd, isn't it? It seems as if we've known each other for centuries. Well, it will be quiet, that's for sure. I'll have no one to get zonked with. 'Xandria isn't one for drink, as you know. Were-prude. I swear…. But anyway, dear friend, if you ever need money or a place to sleep or warm bourbon or just another buddy, owl me and I'll fly you over.
Alexandria sends her love with mine, and we both leave a jacket, earrings, and a lighter for you. It's not much; if you need or desire anything else, it's yours. Take care,
Quenn
He had to smile for once. The girl had a way with words. Sirius rolled his eyes and stuffed the parchment back into his pocket. The clock on the wall read 11:55; it was there as a just-in-case. Black checked it. He had five minutes of precious solitude left, and he intended to use them wisely.
'Using time wisely' to him consisted of getting smashed and getting laid. However, as he didn't have enough time for the latter, he would have to settle for the former. Besides, the person he wished to lay with was absent at the time. Just the memory of those sweet almond eyes made him long for the fairyland of intoxication, and he took a long swig of the drink set out before him. Another, another, once more… and he was slightly fuzzy and warm, though the one place he was truly cold would never be warmed again.
He was washed with the summer humidity as the door opened, but along with the tepid breeze came a frigid gust, and Sirius, despite his drunkenness, knew who had entered the Leaky Cauldron. The rustle of cloth, the trapping of boots on the dusty wood floor… and suddenly, all sound stopped. Black did not have to turn.
"Hello Severus."
"Black. It's not quite a pleasure." The voice came in a low hiss.
"Have a seat. Have a drink." Sirius was sneering uncontrollably. Why did they both have to be so goddamn bitter? There was a scraping of a stool beside him, but he could not look his visitor in the face. He turned away.
"You've changed," Snape said offhandedly. "Fifteen years ago, you would have been trying to fling a curse at me."
"You've changed, too. Twenty-five years ago, you would have been embracing me like a brother."
"It's not me who has changed. It's the times." Snape's voice grew louder. "Tom."
"Professor, what can I do for you?"
"Iced Butterbeer. Alcoholic."
"Yessir."
Sirius had begun to study the floorboards. They were quite interesting and… blurry. It was decidedly better than looking at a blurry Severus Snape. Before he knew what was happening, he was blinking back tears. He could not cry…
"Look up, man. We're both adults here."
Black swallowed hard and raised his head. Looking into those eyes was like staring into the sun. Two, shimmering orbs glowing with hatred. "Well, I hate you too," Sirius thought crossly. "Two can play at that game."
"I should hope so," he said aloud. "I assume they aren't letting students into teaching positions at Hogwarts these days?"
"Oh, I suppose you think you're very witty," Snape countered with a sneer as his Butterbeer was set down beside him. "You always thought you were. So maybe you haven't changed as much as I'd believed." He raised the thick, foamy mug. "Cheers."
"To what, pray tell?" Sirius chided, ignoring the insult.
Severus sipped, and then lowered the glass, raising a greasy ebony eyebrow. "Anything that we can find to be cheery about at this point."
"It's true," Black sighed in resignation, draining the last of his glass. "We haven't come here to rip each other to pieces. Though that is slightly the preferred subject of conversation."
"Be serious for once, man."
"I was born Sirius. I doubt I ever will be serious, though."
"You've had too much drink. It's characteristic of you."
"If I can still count to twenty, I'm alright," he said, rolling off the digits in his head. He had to be at least partially sober for the words to come, though he very much didn't want to be.
"Then shall we begin?"
"If we must. I'm sure it will get this little reunion over faster if we start now."
"Then we have the same goals in mind." Severus reached into his purse, retrieving a small key. He beckoned Tom over, and he came to lead them to the private room. Once there, Snape inserted the key in the slot, obviously entrusting the small treasure to no one else.
"Talk about paranoid," thought Sirius. Same hooked nose, same greasy coal-black hair… same ruthless attitude. But he would shoot himself before he had any feelings of munificence toward the taller man. Just because Severus was still the brother he once knew… didn't mean he was still his brother.
They stepped inside, and just as Tom was about to set foot inside as well, Snape slammed the door in his face, bolting it quickly. "I swear to God," he muttered to himself. "How nosy can one be?"
"He's a pub owner," said Black, falling into a cushioned seat at the cherrywood conference table. "It's in his job description."
"Indeed."
Was it the whiskey, or was Snape being almost… civil? The whiskey. It was most definitely the whiskey. Severus took a seat by the almost inebriated convict and pulled out a file. "This is a list of all those you must contact for help. It will be dangerous, as you know. They will not trust you. But there are letters being sent to each from Dumbledore, so I think you will be alright."
"Why don't you go to them?"
"Are you kidding? They hate me. And you were Hogwarts' golden boy; they love you."
"Honestly, holding a grudge at a time like this…."
"I know, but we're ones to talk." They stopped and stared at each other. Acting against his first instincts, Sirius refrained from clasping the taller man and instead took the file. "Arabella… Mundungus… Taver… Lissa… of course."
"And you will be staying with Lupin, of course." Snape bared his teeth. "Do be careful there. You don't know how wild beasts will act."
"Oh, do shove it," said Sirius, as he was too weary to do anything else. He did still feel a bit betrayed that even his own lover had thought that he could… but no matter. Now was no time to reminisce. And they were undoubtedly no longer lovers. The embrace in the Shrieking Shack had more than proven that. It was like being hung up on with a muggle phone. He shook his head to clear the memories. "Why in hell do you hate him so much? He never did anything to you."
Snape only snorted in ridicule.
"You of all people should know, it's not his fault."
"I'm surprised at you. You aren't trying to rip my balls out for insulting one of your 'friends.'"
"Yeah, well, as you so eloquently stated earlier, times have changed. I can't go round, killing everyone who says a wrong thing about anyone."
"I don't think that has anything to do with it."
"Look who knows so much." Sirius really needed another shot. Of anything.
"We're done now," said Severus calmly, rising from the table. "Lupin's address is in the folder."
"Yes."
Snape headed toward the door, but Black's voice stopped him cold. "Listen, come back. Let's have a chat."
"About what?"
"Anything."
"You're cracked." But the potions master sat down anyway.
"Remember that one time, when we spent the day at the muggle mall, and we sang Genesis songs the entire time?"
"We were ten."
"So you remember?"
"Not really. And I don't think I want to."
"Don't you remember when we bought our school supplies together?"
"The first year… and then you met Potter."
"I didn't dump you, Snape," scolded Sirius. "You dumped me." Fire was blazing in his eyes now. "What was that about, anyway?"
There was silence in the room.
"I… don't know."
More silence. They could hear the endless buzz of action out in the main pub. Sirius sighed, only to be interrupted by Severus' cold voice.
"You remember when you tried to kill me?" He snarled. "You wouldn't have done that before you met Potter or Pettigrew or Lupin. You were a good student. They ruined you."
"Having fun is better than having a stick so far up your arse you don't know the meaning of the word! You always swept around in your little shadow world, self-pitying and hurtful. You could have joined us."
"Not as a Slytherin, Black, and you know it. Besides, do you think toying around with someone's life is fun?"
"You ought to turn that finger around, you know. You spent your days on vengeance. All you did was try to get Remus expelled."
"The preacher ought to listen to his own sermon once in a while." They were standing now, their faces close together, their lips raised revealing two sets of shining white teeth. In one quick movement, their arms went around each other, Sirius' face pressed against his enemy's shoulder. "They stole you."
"No one stole me. I'm a living, breathing human being, and no one can steal me." They backed away from each other and stared each other in the face. Their eyes were no longer shining with animosity, but friendship. In a flash, they were embracing again. "I need a friend, Severus. Can you help me?"
"Why, that was what I was about to say."
In their minds, both softened with liquor, they both wondered what they had been fighting about for all those years.