The Triumph of Sirius Black
Severus Snape hated going to 12 Grimmaud Place. The house was old, stuffy, and uninviting – but it wasn't the portrait of Walburga Black screaming obscenities or the dust in the air that put him off. In particular, it was the lone permanent inhabitant of the Most Noble House of Black: Sirius Black himself.
As vicious as ever, and hardened even further by Azkaban, his sneers followed Severus every cursed moment he had to spend in that house. It was disgusting how easy it was to fall back into the old routine, where they kept jabbing at each other like unruly schoolboys. Severus hated it. He hated Sirius Black. But he loved his skills at driving Black over the edge, wanting nothing more than to triumph over the man. And he did, frequently and cruelly, at least as often as Black triumphed over him.
"How lovely to see you again, Black. This house rather suits you, you know. You're starting to look like your mother more and more every time I see you. Ah, quite right... you sound like her, too."
"I remember how even back at school you didn't really like to risk your own skin. Since Potter's dead and can't risk his on your behalf, I guess it's more important than ever to stay away from trouble..."
"How unfortunate that I had to give your dear godson detention again. But then again... they do say apples don't fall far from the tree... it's really not Potter's fault his particular tree happened to be so rotten..."
"Shut up, you greasy git!" Black hissed and slammed his fist against the dining room table, finally losing his cool. "Just shut up already!"
Severus eyed him in dark pleasure, glad to have found a satisfying weak spot in the other man. "What's the matter, Black? Hit a nerve?"
"You – you... you have no right to talk that way about James and Lily", Black said, his chest heaving. "You're nothing but Death Eater garbage yourself!"
"While I know you love to worship the ground James Potter walked on, that didn't stop the rest of us from noticing what an arrogant toerag he actually was", Severus hissed. "Undoubtedly his way of treating even his friends as nothing but garbage led him to being betra -"
"Shut up, or I'll curse your tongue off, you piece of filth!" Black said, jumping up from his seat and pressing his face close to Severus's; he didn't as much as flinch, just stared at the other man and felt pleased at having managed to make him lose his cool. Black stared at him, his nose just two inches away from Severus's, and he was breathing heavily.
"Now, you listen to me, you piece of shit", Black whispered. "Pettigrew was a rotten egg. James and Lily treated him better than he ever would have deserved. And who do you think you are, talking about treating friends as nothing but garbage – you, who treated Lily as nothing but garbage yourself!"
Severus felt blood escape his face.
"That- that was nothing to the way you treated Pettigrew", Severus stuttered uncharacteristically, hating Black. "I made one mistake with her, just one – and I paid for it - but you treated your friend like filth for years! And Lily had to pay the price -"
Black's eyes gleamed dangerously. Severus snapped his mouth shut, having a dreadful feeling he'd said too much, as a horrible, pleased realisation dawned on Black's face...
"Oh", Black said and smiled a nasty smile. "I get it now. So James was right all along, wasn't he?"
Severus felt his heart beat quickly in his chest.
"Unlikely", he forced himself to say. "That disgusting swine was hardly ever right about anything. Didn't have the brains for it."
And then he escaped the dining room and the stuffy old house, before Black would have the time to tell him exactly what James had been right about.
But of course he couldn't stay away forever. Just a week after that, Dumbledore sent him there to deliver news about that Potter boy. And the loathsome, knowing smile on Black's face was enough to drive Severus over the edge again.
"Oh, you're back", Black said and smiled nastily. "Didn't think you'd have the guts to show your ugly face again."
"I came to deliver news regarding your dear godson's so called progress in Occlumency", Severus snapped. "And I thought you'd like to know how much he really does take after his father - just as empty-brained, absolute rubbish at things that require subtlety – at anything that requires something even slightly resembling intelligence -"
Black hissed and pulled out his wand, his smile slipping from his face.
Severus's wand was in his hand before his mind had even properly registered the potential danger.
"Now, Black – I'd think twice, if I were you", he said softly. Black eyed his wand evaluatingly.
"Going to curse me, Snivellus?" He asked hoarsely, his mouth twitching.
"I might", Severus said lazily. "I'd certainly enjoy it..."
Black turned his eyes towards Severus's face, and for a moment they both just stared at each other, their wands pointed at each other's chests. Then, to Severus's irritation, Black smiled darkly. He raised his wand higher and Severus's hand twitched, almost ready to curse him - but to his confusion, Black pointed his wand at his own head – as Severus stared, a gleaming silvery string separated from his temple. Black reached out his hand and conjured a flask out of thin air, guiding the string inside, where it took the shape of a silvery cloud. He pushed the flask on the table in front of Severus, and only his trembling hand betrayed the hate he must have felt.
"There", Black said and his eyes gleamed darkly. "A present. Just for you. Everything you've ever wanted to know."
And he turned on his heels, rushing out of the parlour and slamming the door behind him so violently that a dusty piece of plaster fell off the wall and on the floor. His pacing steps retreated and then it was quiet. Severus stared at the flask. The silver cloud glimmered innocently inside. He reached for it and put it into his pocket.
Severus didn't go back to Grimmaud Place for several weeks. He didn't look at the memory Black had left him. He kept the flask on his night stand, and tortured himself wondering what it was. He knew he'd spoken out of turn that one evening, and suspected that Black had understood what he'd left unsaid, read between the lines – that he had left him some harrowing memory regarding James Potter and Lily; something which he suspected would affect Severus. A memory of their wedding, perhaps. Or of some disgusting evening they'd undoubtedly spent snogging each other on Black's couch. Severus felt bile gather in his throat every time he pondered what the memory might contain. And he didn't want to watch it.
Until one evening, when he did.
He had been tired, stressed out and full of rage. He had spent the evening trying to teach Occlumency to the Potter spawn, and it had once again been – as he'd always known it would be – a right catastrophe. The boy had violated his privacy in the worst way possible. Angry at the boy, and looking to feed his rage, he had grabbed the flask and taken it to the Pensieve. Without giving himself another moment to reconsider, he'd pushed his hand through the substance and found himself from a cozy sitting room where a fire cracked in a white fireplace, and which looked intangibly Lily-like with its green velvet sofa and terracotta-shaded walls, and a moving miniature of the Solar System and a collection of Muggle LP's all thrown together in messy harmony. Black was sitting on the green sofa, holding an empty bottle of Firewhiskey, reading its label. To Severus's relief, James Potter was nowhere to be seen, and the scenario didn't appear to be a memory of a wedding.
Lily laughed behind Severus; he turned around in shock at the unexpected sound of her joy and drank in her form, her living, breathing form, which laughed still and was walking towards him from the open door. His heart felt like it might burst at the sight of her. Lily was older than he'd ever seen her when she'd been alive; her cheeks less round, but her body curvier and more desirable to him now than in her willowy teenage years, and her hair was long and thick, falling almost all the way to her waist. He couldn't breathe. He yearned to touch her, would have given his soul to be able to grasp her by her arms and hold her in his arms for just a moment.
"I knew we had another one!" She announced and swayed a full bottle of Firewhiskey in her hand almost flirtatiously. She walked right through Severus, and his heart ached as her immaterial form felt like nothing at all, even though he could smell her floral perfume in the air, as though they really were in the same room.
"Score!" Black said, hurling the empty bottle aside. He sounded quite drunk. Lily plopped down on the sofa next to him and poured alcohol into the two glasses on the table. She sat quite close to him, clearly familiar with him. Black casually wrapped his arm over the backrest of the couch; over Lily's shoulders. Severus couldn't help grimacing – if Black had left him a memory of himself shagging Lily on that couch, he'd go straight to Grimmaud Place and Avada Kedavra the man off the face of this Earth.
"I just love it when James makes you babysit me", Lily said; her voice slurred a little too. "It's like... I can't go to fun, but fun can come to me – right?"
"Damn right", Black said and clinked glasses with Lily – then he drank his whiskey like a shot, grimacing.
"It's so stupid anyway", Lily muttered, swirling the golden liquid in her glass and taking a sip. "I don't need a babysitter. He's so paranoid. Seems to think there's a horde of Death Eaters outside, just waiting for him to leave so they can attack me."
"Just humour him", Black said. "It's not like he's going to listen to your objections anyway."
"I know, right", Lily said. "You know his mother told me he didn't learn the word 'no' until he was five years old. Five years old, can you imagine! Mind you, it explains a thing or two about him... probably wouldn't be engaged to him right now if it weren't for his parents spoiling him..."
"Mm. You never had a chance", Black laughed. "He told me on fourth grade he's going to marry you. So, there you go."
"On fourth grade?!" Lily asked, almost choking on her drink. "Christ, aren't I happy I didn't know. Rest assured, on fourth grade, I didn't fancy him at all."
"Who'd you fancy, then?" Black asked. "I kinda always fancied that girl from Ravenclaw... what's her face... you know. That one with the great tits. Blue eyes, too."
"Uhh... no, nothing of that description comes to mind", Lily said and rolled her eyes.
"Malina Murray! That's it!" Black said triumphantly. "Yeah. Her I could've married."
He looked dreamy-eyed as he stared into the distance, probably reminiscing upon the great tits of Malina Murray.
"Did you ever even talk to her?" Lily asked in an amused tone.
"No", Black said and shrugged. "Why spoil a perfectly good fantasy?"
Lily laughed. She poured Black another drink, and Severus moved closer to her, reaching his shaking hand in vain to touch her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she looked into her glass, and for a moment Severus humoured himself and imagined she could feel his touch...
"So... who'd you fancy, then? Go on – spill it", Black said as he took another gulp of his whiskey. "Who was the star of your filthy little fantasies?"
"Har har", Lily said and blushed. "Oh... I can't even remember. It's been so long. I'm such an old hag, you know..."
And she drank her glass in one go, looking embarrassed.
"Come on! Nobody can blush that hard over a forgotten crush!" Black mocked and shoved at her gently. "Was it me?" and he fluttered his lashes dramatically.
"It wasn't you, you git!" Lily shrieked and giggled. "My taste wasn't that poor!"
"So who was it then? Remus? I remember you got along with him quite well... ha! It was him, wasn't it!" Black leaned back against the couch and let out a barking laugher. "You fancied Remus, right? Probably fantasised about steamy meetings in the Prefects bathroom with him, didn't you, you dirty little minx!"
Severus couldn't help but sneer as Lily's flush deepened. He felt awful – had this been Black's plan, to torture him, to let him know that not only had Lily loved James Potter, she'd also fancied some other horrid boy from their group? If not Black himself, then Lupin – the werewolf? He wanted to curse Lupin to bits.
"It wasn't Remus, either", Lily muttered. "And before you have the time to suggest – it wasn't Peter, either!"
"I wasn't going to suggest Peter", Black said. "Although, if it had been him... that would've been such a twist. So – spill it. Who was it?"
Lily laughed and pushed hair out of her eyes. She was quite red now. "Oh, hell. Might as well tell, I guess. But you have to promise me two things. First – don't laugh. And second – you can never tell James! I think he might just spontaneously combust if he heard..."
"I solemnly swear", Black said and bowed his head. "Let the secret of Lily's first object of affection – and subject of her first masturbatory fantasies – never leave this room. Ouch!"
Black pretended to be hurt, rubbing his head where Lily had just hit him with a pillow.
"You are horrible, Sirius. But all right – it was Severus, actually."
Severus gaped at her with his mouth open. So did Black.
"No way... no way!" Black burst out laughing. "Snivellus?"
"You promised you wouldn't laugh!" Lily scolded him as Black continued laughing, and she was now red all the way from her ears to her chest. "For your information – I fancied him for years. And it's not funny at all. You know. Since... well, you know how that went down."
"All right, all right... sorry", Black wiped tears of mirth off his eyes. "So... I guess I overestimated your good taste when I suggested myself."
Lily looked sour, hugging the pillow she'd recently used to beat up Black with. "He wasn't always like... well, you know. All that other stuff came later."
"Ha", Black said scornfully. "Sure, he must have been a right gentleman to you before he found his hatred of Muggleborns and his desire to torture and kill."
Lily looked quite unhappy as she gazed at the brown liquid in her glass. Severus felt shocked, his mouth still hanging open as he took in what he'd just heard. Suddenly he didn't feel like the adult man he was now – he felt like he was fifteen again, and he trembled in emotion as the words he'd wished most of his life to hear rang still in his ear. He slumped on his knees at Lily's feet and tried in vain to grasp her hands in his.
"I used to think he was the most interesting person I'd ever met", Lily said quietly, like she wasn't really even directing her words to Black. "I thought he was so... well, cool. He was the first boy I ever really knew. I was so silly back then... I thought we'd always be together, just him and me, always... It never crossed my mind he couldn't accept that I had Muggle parents, that he'd grow to hate it so much he couldn't behave normally with me any more. I loved him, but... I think in the end, he hated me."
"I loved you, Lily. I never hated you. I love you, Lily. I love you. I love you", Severus whispered to Lily, over and over again, reaching for her cheek, his fingers meeting air. He was fifteen again, and confessing his love to the girl he had always loved, the way he should have done a thousand times; confessing it twenty years too late to a woman long dead and buried.
Lily was quiet for a moment. "You know... I'm no longer even sure that the Sev I thought I knew really even existed anywhere outside my head."
"Good riddance", Black said loudly and poured himself more whiskey. "He was such an oddball, you should thank your stars for having gotten rid of him."
"Yeah", Lily said sadly. "I guess the fantasy really was better than reality."
She lifted her eyes from her glass and stared right through Severus with those green, green eyes of hers.
The memory dissolved around Severus. He was standing in his chambers, staring at the surface of the Pensieve, where Lily's green eyes still floated for a moment before softly dissolving into the silvery liquid. Severus grasped at the chair behind him and heavily slumped down on it. He covered his grimacing mouth with his hand, stopping the pained whimpering which threatened to escape.
He had loved Lily Evans, and once upon a time Lily Evans had loved him too. She had dreamed of him. She had wanted him, and her hand in his had meant more than 'just friends' and something else than 'I love you like a brother', which were the sentences which had always scared him, had stopped him from ever telling her. She had died thinking he hated her. She had slipped through his fingers like her life had slipped away from her body, leaving behind just a lifeless shell. Severus felt something shatter inside of him, and hot tears burst out of his eyes as he cried until there were no more tears left.
How could it be that the fulfilment of his deepest desire could hurt him more than the fulfilment of his deepest fear ever had?