Author: Dancho
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.
Type: One Shot
Rating: T (PG-13)
SHIPs: SS/RB
Summery: Severus Snape and Regulus Black were friends, even more than friends. So when Regulus dies, can Snape ever move on?
Time: Post-GoF
Location: Mostly Spinner's End, other places and a lot of time spent in Snape's head.
Warning: Homosexuality, some cursing, drinking and vague drugs and sex references, violence, character death, seriously angsting Snape… might even come across a little Emo, but his life does suck, so I forgive him.
Suppose we have only dreamed and made up these things like sun, sky, stars, and moon, and Aslan himself. In that case, it seems to me that the made-up things are a good deal better than the real ones.
-Puddleglum (Chronicles of Narnia: The Silver Chair)-
"Severus. There is something I need you to do for me," Voldemort said, his voice taking on a hissing quality as if it was a snake speaking instead of a human being. Even though, Snape mused, Voldemort's humanity was debatable.
"My Lord?" Snape replied, strengthening his mental barricades.
"Regulus Black is proving to be less able and reliable than I had first supposed. If you would tie up that loose end?"
"Of… of course, my Lord," Snape whispered before turning to leave the room. As he walked towards the door, Snape saw the large smirk plastered on Lucius Malfoy's face and sneered in reply.
Snape found Lucius to be absolutely insufferable. The man was completely full of himself; though Snape had to admit it was for some fairly good reasons. The man was, even though Snape didn't fancy him, good looking, wealthy, and powerful. In other words, he was everything that Snape was generally not. Fortunately, Lucius hated Snape with almost as much passion as Snape hated him, probably because Lucius's wife, Narcissa, was friendly with Snape and probably liked Snape more than her own husband.
Because of the almost tangible hatred between the two men, Voldemort had ordered the pair of them not to cross proverbial swords, for fear that either one or both of the men would even up dead or missing a vital body part. The unfortunate part of the situation was that, while Snape was happy to avoid Lucius at all costs, Lucious liked to provoke Snape as much as possible, know the other man would not retaliate for fear of punishment.
As Snape passed, Lucius shifted his weight so that he could lean closer to Snape when he passed. Without warning, Lucius reached out and caught the hem of Snape's robe and tugged him closer, whispering in his ear, "Don't fuck this up. Don't forget where your loyalties lie. Even though I'm sure it's hard, since he's such a good lay and…"
Without warning, Snape lashed out, his fist slamming into Lucius's face, sending the other man to the floor.
"Severus," Voldemort warned his follower, as Snape pulled his fist back again. Snape froze, awaiting his punishment. "Lucius was rude, so I will let this pass. But do not let it happen again."
"My Lord is merciful."
"Oh, and Severus?"
"Yes?"
"Please, do not let your feelings interfere with your duty to me."
"Of course not, my Lord," Snape whispered before hurrying from the room. Quickly, he apparated and arrived in his own home of Spinner's End. It was a small home, but it was fairly well kept, considering the desolate neighborhood in which is was located. Pulling a chair over to his desk, Snape sat down and put his wand on the desk. He didn't move for over an hour. All he did was sit at his desk, stare at his wand and wait. Finally, there was a loud crack from the other room but Snape didn't move an inch since he already knew who it was.
"Hey, babe," Regulus called from the kitchen. "I need a drink. You want some?"
"No," Snape replied softly, as Regulus walked into the room carrying a bottle of vodka. He flopped into a large armchair and sighed, before taking a large gulp.
"God, I hate going home. All that woman does is nag. Nag, nag, nag. I can't catch a break. All that pressure to make up for Sirius. I totally don't blame him for legging it. I would have if I'd know she was going to harass me so much. Before I was perfect, but now everything I touch is flawed. God." Taking another drink from the vodka bottle, Regulus looked over at Snape's back and smirked. "Well? How was your day? Get that grading done?"
"I tried, but our Lord called before I was even finished half of them. I'll just assign grades by how much I like the student."
"You're really terrible," Regulus laughed. There was a silence, as Regulus took another sip of the vodka and waited for Snape to reply, but the other man didn't. Frowning, Regulus stood and crept over to Snape's side. "Whatcha doing? Wanking?"
"What!" Snape shouted, jerking his head around to look at Regulus.
"Yeah. I'll bet you're thinking about Narcissa. Now, she's good looking if you know what I mean," Regulus leered, making a rude gesture.
"That's disgusting," Snape spat as he turned the chair so he was facing Regulus. "She's your cousin."
"She's not your cousin, though," Regulus retorted, looking almost disappointed now that he could see Snape wasn't doing anything inappropriate, "and she does have a nice ass." He took another drink of the vodka and waved the half-empty bottle in Snape's face. "Sure ya don' want any? Lots fer ya."
"No thanks," Snape replied. Regulus hick-upped and stumbled a little, but Snape caught him around the waist to keep him from falling to the ground. Snape was quiet for a while, looking at Regulus carefully. The younger man's face was red and he swayed a little on his feet, so Snape tugged him forward so that Regulus's knees were leaning against the seat of the chair. Taking another drink of the alcohol, Regulus clambered onto the seat and straddled Snape's lap. Snape looked up at his drunken friend and swallowed before forcing a smile. It wasn't a nasty smile; it was rather nice, actually, and as such it looked completely foreign on Snape's face, but it made Regulus smile back anyway.
"Like yer smile, Severus. But it looks bad on yer face. Like a smudge on York."
"York?"
"Yeah. Those big white cliffs. Smudge's don't belong, ya know."
"It's Dover."
"One of those places," Regulus mumbled. "Take it off?"
"Do I have to?" Snape asked, even as he closed his eyes and the small concealing spell fell away. He was still the same man, for the most part, but without the spell small things began to change about his appearance. His greasy hair became clean and even a little curly. His skin took on a little color and even though it remained pale, it looked natural and healthy. His teeth whitened except for a few coffee stains and they evened out. Even his eyes seemed to sparkle a little. Indeed, all that truly remained of the previous Snape was his hooked nose and his shoulder-length black hair.
"So pretty," Regulus whispered, his lips forming a lopsided smile.
"My dad used to say that too," Snape replied, not meeting Regulus's eyes. "Right before he'd hit me. He'd tell me what a pretty boy I was. It was the only time he looked at me as if he cared. Right before he hurt me." Regulus touched his forehead to Snape's, but didn't interrupt. "My mom used to put the spell on me. To hide the cuts and bruises. 'Don't attract attention, Severus. Don't let anyone know.' You're the first person who's seen me like this… since my mother."
"Umm, I like dat. But cha know, no un can touch ya. Too powerfal."
"Why do you think I learned all those spells?" Snape asked, almost laughing. It felt weird to tell Regulus about why he used the spell. In fact, the other man wouldn't have even known about the spell if he hadn't come to Snape's home in the middle of the night once. But, on the other hand, Snape decided, it also felt right. Of everyone Snape knew Regulus was the only one he might consider calling a friend or anything more. Snape frowned again, thinking of his orders, and he knew at that moment that he would do as he had been directed.
Reaching up, Snape lifted Regulus's chin and gave him a small kiss. A half-hour later, they both lay naked on the cold floor of Spinner's End. Snape lay on his back with Regulus curled up at his side. He looked over at the drunken man and kissed his forehead. Sitting up, he pulled on a robe and draped the other over Regulus's body. He picked his wand up off his desk and knelt down next to Regulus.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Regulus replied and opened his eyes. Looking closely, Snape searched Regulus's face as the other man sat up, but he could find no sign of drunkenness. "I switched the vodka with tap water. You never drink it anyway."
"You knew?"
"I heard about it." Regulus shrugged, as he clambered to his feet, pulled on his robes and went over to the mirror in the bathroom so he could straighten his hair. "What a bastard, huh? Tell you to do me in. Merlin."
"Why'd you come back here? If you knew, why you'd come to me?" Snape asked, as he stood and walked over to the door of the bathroom.
"Well, I wanted to say goodbye. Aren't I considerate? Besides, you won't kill me," Regulus explained as he turned to smile at Snape.
"I was going to. I was going to end it a second ago."
"I don't want to die, Severus. I can't. I'm not ready."
"So why did you come back! You're such a fool! Why didn't you run? Why'd you put yourself in danger?" Snape shouted as he raised his wand. Grabbing the wand and pushing it aside, Regulus smashed his fist into Snape's face and watched as the other man stumbled back a few steps and fell the floor, holding his nose.
"I wanted to say goodbye! Was that too much to ask!" Regulus screamed back, wanting very much to stomp his feet as tears came to his eyes. Instead he snapped Snape's wand that he had grabbed when he had punched Snape. "Aren't I allowed to care about you? Fuck. I just wanted something to be different. And maybe… I wanted you to come with me. Merlin, I'm so stupid."
And with one last kick to Snape's ribs, Regulus pulled his own wand out of his robes and disapparated. Rolling onto his back, Snape didn't move, except to wipe a little blood from his nose and recast the spell to change his features. He didn't move until an hour later when Narcissa and Lucius came to see him and found him still lying on the floor.
"Snape?" Narcissa asked, looking down at him. "You're not dead, are you?"
"He might be. That is an awful lot of blood on his face," Lucius said to his wife.
"Shut up," Snape muttered as he opened his eyes and looked up at the couple. Getting to his feet, Snape rubbed at his eyes and gently touched his nose. It didn't seem to be broken, but it was tender. Yawning, Snape wandered into his bathroom and Lucius followed him while Narcissa sat down in one of the less dusty chairs. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"Our Lord want's to know if it's done."
"It's not," Snape replied when he had finished washing the blood off his face. "He… It got out of hand and he escaped."
"Do you know where he's gone?" Narcissa called from the other room.
"No, I haven't a clue," Snape replied, careful to shield the fact that he had in fact searched Regulus's mind and knew exactly where he was going. Lucius's eyes narrowed and he carefully searched Snape's face looking for any clues.
"Our Lord doesn't trust you, you know," Lucius finally replied. "He thinks you might be doing a little bit of 'double dipping' shall we say."
"So why don't you off me?" Snape answered with a sneer.
"I wish. And if he needs you killed, I'll be the first in line. But he seems to think you're still valuable and he cannot be sure you are not loyal. With your skills, it would be unfortunate to lose you if you were indeed loyal."
"And I'll be that simply rankles, doesn't it, Lucius." Snape smirked and Lucius growled deep in the back of his throat before he stormed out of Spinner's End, his wife trailing behind. It was a month before Snape saw Narcissa again. He was in his office grading papers when she came in, her hair askew and her eyes wild.
"SNAPE!" She called as she threw open the door and stood in the doorway, gasping for breath as if she had just run a marathon.
"Narcissa? Is… something wrong?" Snape asked, as he motioned for her to enter and he shut the door with a wave of his wand.
"He knows. He knows where Regulus went!"
"What? Who knows?" Snape asked, standing up.
"You-know-who!" Narcissa hissed, keeping her voice low in case any student might be eavesdropping. "And he's sent Bella after him! She'll rip him apart!"
But Snape was already gone, racing through the castle, trying to get to the end of the disapparation wards. He finally reached the edges of the school property and sent himself across the ocean to a small apartment in the United States. The apartment was empty except for a couple of blankets in the corner and a woman who was sleeping in the corner of the room. Walking over to her, Snape quickly shook her awake.
"Wha…? Who're you?"
"Where's Regulus?" Snape asked impatiently.
"Who?"
"Tall fellow. Long-ish hair. From Britain."
"Oh yeah. Him. He went out for some smokes. Should be back soon," the woman replied, her eyes already closing.
"Wake up! Which way did he go?"
"Store's on West 56th," the woman said before yawning and falling back asleep. Running out of the apartment, Snape hurried down three flights of stairs and ran into the streets, not caring if his robes were a bit conspicuous. He ran towards 56th street, praying he could find the younger man, when he heard a loud crack, almost like the sound made by a person disapparating. Hurrying towards the sound, Snape went down a dark, dirty alley and almost fell over a body lying prostrate on the ground. The body groaned and Snape rolled the man over to see Regulus's face.
"Severus?" Regulus asked, opening his eyes to see Snape. "God. What a fucked up trip, yeah? First Bella. Now you? Who next? You-know you?"
"Ha. He'd never come to finish off a lose end like you," Snape whispered, checking the other man for injuries. Running his hand over Regulus's muggle shirt, he pulled his hand away when he hit a wet segment. Looking at his fingers, Snape smelled them and recoiled at the scent of blood. He ripped open Regulus's shirt and stared at the long slice that seemed to cut through muscle and bones. And Snape knew Regulus was going to die, because nothing short of St. Mungo's could save him and Snape was pretty sure Regulus wouldn't survive apparation.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong, babe?" Regulus laughed, his eyes focusing and unfocusing rapidly.
"Nothing," Snape lied as he leaned forward to kiss Regulus's forehead. Regulus clutched at Snape's robes, his grip weak from blood loss.
"Don't leave me. Not like Bella. She left with the fairies."
"I'll stay," Snape replied as he ran his fingers through Regulus's hair.
"I missed you," Regulus whispered and the light in his eyes faded. Snape sat with Regulus for almost an hour before he got to his feet, pulling Regulus up with him, and disapparating. He arrived in front of 12 Grimwald place and knocked on the door, before lying Regulus on the front steps. As his hands ran past Regulus's pocket, he felt something and he reached inside to find an old locket. Stiffening, he heard the sound of footsteps coming to open the door, so he shoved the item into his pocket and disapparated as the front door opened. He thought he might have heard a strangled cry as he left, but it might have been his imagination.
Snape didn't attend the funeral, not wanting to see Regulus's family, but he did wear the locket every day without fail. A few months after the funeral of Regulus came the defeat of Voldemort and the imprisonment of Sirius. Snape was pretty sure that Sirius had never been a death eater, but he couldn't be sure, and part of him liked thinking of Sirius wasting away in Azkaban. When he thought of it, he could almost forget that the blood of James and Lily Potter was also on his own hands.
But more than that, Snape couldn't help but feel guilty for the death of Regulus. He knew it wasn't really his fault, but sometimes he wondered if he had reached Regulus faster, or known more healing spells, he might have been able to save him. He had begun research into healing spells and first aid, in case a situation should arise again, and while he suppose that was a fairly healthy reaction, he wondered if some of his other forming habits were as good for him.
He had stopped bathing as regularly as he once had and he stayed inside more and his skin had taken on a deathly pallor. He had also stopped casting the appearance-changing spell. It was no longer necessary, since he looked exactly the same with or without it. Even his house and furniture was falling into disrepair and his garden, once filled with neatly trimmed grass, was becoming a mass of weeds and tangled vegetation. Looking out his front window, Snape wondered if his actions were a form of self-abuse, before deciding that it hardly mattered.
A knock on his back door interrupted that train of thought as Snape went to see whom his visitor was. It was Dumbledore, dressed in traditional black mourning robes, obviously just coming from the funeral of the Potter's. Snape stepped aside and Dumbledore came in, taking a seat in one of the less decrepit pieces of furniture. The older man held out a bag of muggle sweets, which Snape declined.
"Is there a point behind your visit?" Snape asked, wishing to be alone again.
"I was wondering if you were planning to stay on. I know that now part of your reason for staying on is over, but you are a fine potion's master and the work is steady."
"Oh? So this is entirely about my skills and has nothing to do with the fact that the ministry still does not trust me and wishes for you to watch me?"
"I would not hire you as a teacher if I thought you were unfit. There are easier ways to watch people."
"I suppose, but seeing as my occupational opportunities are rather limited because of my past affiliations, I seem to have no choice do I?"
"I am not forcing you, Severus. Why not think on it? I would, of course, like your answer by the end of the month. You know where to find me," Dumbledore said as he swept out of Snape's home and was gone. Snape wondered if he should continue teaching. He had only taken the job because his Lord had ordered him to take it, but it was a horrible task and he didn't have many options really. He looked around the dusty living room of Spinner's End and shook his head. Standing, he grabbed a over-cloak and headed to the only place he could truly think.
He approached the door of 12 Grimwald place and after a moment's hesitation knocked. The door was opened by an old house elf and Snape entered.
"Who's there?" a woman's voice asked, as the speaker entered the room. It was Regulus's mother. She didn't appear to recognize Snape at first, but, after a moment, she remembered and she smiled. "Severus! How lovely to see you."
"It's nice to see you as well, Mrs. Black. I was wondering… I… That is to say… have you disposed to Regulus's things?"
"No. I… It was such a shock to lose Regulus that I couldn't quite bare to throw away his things. They are untouched. Why?"
"I… would you mind if I looked around Regulus's room? I… think I left something there."
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Black replied and she led him up to Regulus's room and handed him the key. "Take as long as you like, I'll be in the living room."
"Thank you," Snape replied and unlocked the room. The air was stale and the room dusty, so Snape went over to one of the windows and opened it a crack before he began to look around the room, searching for hidden answers. He didn't know what he expected to find, but he did eventually find a large clothing box stored in the closet. Snape opened it and pulled out a death eater's robe and his broken wand, which Regulus's had snapped in their fight. The robe still smelled like Regulus, obviously not being washed. As he pulled the robes up to smell them, Snape felt the locket press against his breastbone and it that moment it became painfully obvious how much he was clinging to Regulus and the past.
He needed to escape from his mindset of death eaters and Spinner's end. And where better to do so than at Hogwarts? The solitary place, where most of the students would not know what side he had been on during the way, a clean slate, and, whether he liked it or not, interaction with real people and not just memories.
Taking off the locket, Snape refolded Regulus's robes and left the room, locking it as he left. As he was leaving, he looked over at the roomed filled with Black family heirlooms and entered. He turned the locket over in his hand before placing it with the other items. It had belonged to Regulus and that made it an heirloom, not a stolen keepsake.
He left 12 Grimwald place before he could run back and steal the locket back and as he returned to Spinner's End, Snape decided he would wait a for a bit before telling Dumbledore he had accepted the job. He didn't want to see at all eager.
And so he returned to Hogwarts, not looking back at his past as a death eater. He changed none of his habits, still hating all of his students, even though he disliked some students more than others. He continued to neglect his personal hygiene, not particularly caring what his students thought of him. He simply did his job and taught potions. He wasn't necessarily happy. He didn't actually like potions, regardless of his talent for making them, and he felt that he could better serve the school as the Defense against the Dark arts teacher. However, he supposed Dumbledore didn't trust him enough for that, so he remained, teaching potions in the dark dungeons, alone and fairly bitter because of it.
That is, until eleven years had passed, and a certain Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Snape hated him the moment he laid eyes on him. The boy was like a ghost, a spirit raised from the grave of James Potter to torment him. Every time he saw the boy, he was reminded of the man he owed his life to and had killed instead. And the memory rankled, the unrepaid debt hanging over Snape's head. And the debt was never repaid, regardless of Snape's desire to be rid of his duty and the boy's knack for finding trouble. So every year it was the same and every year Snape hated the boy more and more. But there was nothing he could do, except wait for a chance to appear. And he waited, day after day, each day more intolerable than the one before.
Until a new problem arose, one of more importance. The boy Potter returned from the Triwizard Tournament and told Dumbledore of the return of Voldemort. He had felt the burning in his wrist for days and he knew it was coming. But even so, he dreaded the job he would have to do, dreaded the precarious life he would be returning to, dreaded the days of torturous company. But even more so, he dreaded returning to the ranks because he knew it would be worse this time. Before, at least, he had not been alone.
But still, he returned to his home, which was even more rundown than before, and pulled out his old robes. As he removed them from the box, a small picture fell to the ground and Snape bent to pick it up. It was a muggle picture from when Regulus had gone through his photography stage. He had messed up a batch and they wouldn't move. He had given them to Snape, since Mrs. Black wouldn't have taken well to muggle things in her house, and Snape had destroyed most of them, except one. It was of Regulus and Snape. They were sitting in a pub having a drink and they were laughing over some joke.
But the most noticeable thing of the photo was that they were both happy. An innocent happy, one where all the bad things in the world and all the pain was completely forgotten, not just lurking in the back of one's mind waiting to take over again. And for Snape, it had been a very long time since he had felt like that, because Regulus had taken all the good times with him.
It wasn't that Regulus had been extraordinarily optimistic or didn't have his fair share of disappointments. Indeed, Regulus was a bit like a kid in that he was easily upset, but his disappointment never lasted long. And Snape had actually liked him. He had enjoyed spending time with Regulus and didn't mind that the other man would whine a bit when things didn't go his way, because a moment later he would be scheming to get what he wanted, or decided to move on to something else. Regulus always managed to find something to laugh about, and Snape never doubted that it was Regulus who made life as a death eater bearable.
But those days were over, Snape reminded himself. Regulus is gone, dead, and Snape needed to return to Voldemort. He had to go alone and there was no Regulus to stand by him, to take care of him, to take him home and watch over him. He was alone and no amount of memories could change that. Looking down at the picture, Snape considered ripping it in half. Partially because he was angry with his own reminiscent weakness, and partially because he had destroyed everything else that reminded him of Regulus.
He knew he needed to move on, to get over the past. But as he put the picture on his pillow and pulled on his old robes, he decided that a memory of Regulus, a dream of happiness, was better then nothing at all.