Talking To Yourself
The bed dipped and I woke slowly, annoyed that he was taking all the warmth with him. I could hear rather than see him stretch, joints cracking, and a relieved sigh escape him. Bare feet padded across the floor and a bathroom door closed. My head felt heavy and far from ready to get up, and so I let myself fall asleep again.
Lips brushed across my cheek and forehead; he murmured something to the extent of "goodbye, see you tomorrow." I mumbled my goodbyes, trying my hardest to sound intelligible and somewhat caring.
Downstairs a couple of hours later I found Remus by the kitchen table, pouring over the Daily Prophet. A steaming mug of tea stood untouched beside him. He looked haggard. With a sinking feeling I remembered that the fullmoon had been yesterday. My heart was about to leave through my bowels.
'How are you feeling?' I asked, trying to cover over my bad guilt with a chipper tone. He merely shrugged a shoulder and turned a page. 'You know I would have been there if I could, but Dumbledore-'
'I've already heard all about your "surveillance". What with the wine and all,' murmured Remus and a faint smile flickered across his face. 'You're insufferable.'
'Do you want me to make you something?' I continued to prod. Remus looked like something had eaten him and spat him out again. Pallid complexion, deep blue rings under his eyes and he moved like an old man with rheumatism. 'I hope he didn't wake you this morning?'
'Klemet?' asked Remus. Upon my nod he just shook his head. 'No he's a really nice guy. We ate, well, he ate and I watched, and chatted a bit. Apparently he's worried about you and your drinking. A really nice guy.' Remus stressed the last part, trying to stare intently at me, but his eyes crossed a bit and he returned to the paper. Klemet Keskitalo had used to be a star chaser on the Norwegian Quidditch team Karasjok Kites, but got bought up by Montrose Magpies. Consequently he moved to Britain. We had met as a coincidence and after a lot of misunderstood intentions had been seeing each other for over two months. In my book that was quite an achievement. Remus was right; Klemet was a really nice guy. Which reminded me of someone not so nice. I stood leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping my hot coffee, wondering how to breach the subject when Remus unknowingly did it for me. 'Back to that entire incident with the wine,' he began, and then stopped himself, trying to search for the right words. 'You might think yourself invincible, but you're not. You could so easily have been killed. Doing magic while intoxicated is a very bad idea.' I half crossed my arms by resting one hand on the one preoccupied by holding my coffee.
'Well, I hadn't really expected anything to happen at that point,' I said. I knew defending myself was worthless, I had messed up. 'But….' My resolve failed me.
'But what?' asked Remus. Pushing the paper away and leaning back in his chair he looked intently at me. Remus was good at giving undivided attention.
'I think maybe- ….maybe I know who it was. The Death Eater that is.'
I had to say it to someone, and the only one I could confide in was Remus. There was something in Remus that kept him from judging anyone. Perhaps because he was so acutely aware of being judged himself. Whatever it was, he was now sitting straight, his otherwise brown eyes pale with pain. He was curious. The longer I hesitated in my answer, the darker his expression became. Eventually he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
'Snape?' he asked. My silence confirmed it. 'Sirius-'
'No!' I interrupted him, not knowing what he was about to say, but I knew I wouldn't like to hear it. 'I just thought…. And I was drunk… could have been anyone, really.'
'You wouldn't have told me this if you wasn't absolutely certain,' countered Remus reasonably. 'What are you going to do about it? Tell Moody- …or Dumbledore?'
'I could do that,' I nodded, 'but I am not sure what good it will do. Snape will make sure to keep a low profile, now.' A shadow passed across Remus' face again.
'You just discovered the identity of a Death Eater and you're telling me you're going to keep it a secret?'
Perhaps telling Remus hadn't been the wisest idea after all. Eventually I gave a casual shrug and told him I'd inform Dumbledore when I had the time. Remus probably wanted to comment that if there was something I had a bit too much of, it was time, but he snapped his mouth shut and returned to the neglected paper.
A few days passed pretty uneventfully and I had nearly managed to forget the entire incident when someone knocked on my door. I had been engrossed in my firewhiskey submarines and playing exploding snap with myself, and the knock had me startling half a meter into the air. Remus was visiting James and Lily and so I was alone in the big house. Instantly wary, I grabbed my wand and hid in the shadows by the door. Every ward that could possibly be raised was set around the house. None of them howled, the visitor had not been thrown into the air and set into flames. In other words: no one hostile. At least not yet. There was another knock, hesitant and slow. The person was not entirely certain whether he or she really wanted to visit. Maybe it was Klemet? But he usually just flooed right in since he was allowed past my wards. A thousand scenarios went through my head before I peeked through the spyhole. None of them fit. On the other side of the door stood a skinnier, paler and more dignified version of myself.
'What in Merlin's underpants?' I whispered to myself and undid the numerous locks to open the door. 'Regulus, what-?'
Regulus made a motion to hush me down, waving his hand and putting a finger in front of his lips. He peered into the hallway, then behind himself, and then finally at me. I stepped aside to let him in. He stood studying everything while I redid the locks. Eventually he turned, smiled, and then put on the stone mask of propriety that I had become so familiar with.
'This is where you live?' he said. 'I just realized I haven't visited you before.'
'No,' I conceded, 'you haven't had a reason to, until now, apparently. What do you want?'
'Can't I visit my brother without there having to be some scheme behind it?' he asked with a bitter pinch around his mouth.
'You're a Slytherin and a Black,' I pointed out, 'of course there's something more to it. You don't even like me.'
'That's not true,' he countered, then hesitated. 'I haven't seen you since Father's funeral. I am done with school and things- …well things are different.'
'Don't you have friends?' I asked. I was feeling ridiculous for standing out in the hallway arguing with my brother, yet I didn't want to invite him in. He was never anything but perfectly dignified. Hair neatly cropped and styled, robes immaculate and he was standing in a fashion that said he could be doing so for weeks without tiring. Good breeding, relatives would say, nice work. Had he only once let the façade fall I might have been able to understand him. 'Why don't you go frolicking around with Snape or some such?' Something in what I said must have taken him by surprise for his eyes widened a fraction. Then he smiled again.
'Why did you mention him of all people?' he asked, 'other people would perhaps have thought about the Lestranges or the Malfoys before a half-blood like Snape.'
Something in me snapped and my temperament rose acutely. 'Don't you come into my home and spew such shit,' I growled, very much aware I was still holding my wand. Sparks shot out at its end.
'I thought you hated him?' said Regulus, on the surface unaffected by my threatening stance. 'You two are all too obsessed with each other,' he sighed, brushing the right hand through his hair. A peace offering; he was at the moment wandless. I stuffed my own in my pocket. 'On the highly few occasions I speak with you, you always end up mentioning him. And whenever I talk to him, it's either your brother is a pig this, or your brother is a bastard that. I did not come here to discuss Severus, however.'
Whatever he had come to discuss was never revealed, for just as I relented and was about to properly invite him in, the floo grates opened. Regulus was instantly on guard, his hand straying to the pocket that most probably contained his wand. Just before snatching it he remembered himself and made a conscious effort to right his appearance. Few people had access to my floo, so I wasn't all too surprised to see Peter in the doorway into the living room. He, on the other hand, was shocked to see what was going on in the hallway. Regulus didn't even deign him worthy of a look.
'Well, I was just about to leave anyway,' he lied. Trying to pass a sneer of as a smile, he brushed passed me. I noticed with slight annoyance that we were of height now. A polite cough reminded me I had to undo the locks if he was to get through that door. The silence between the three of us was heavy and awkward, and I vented a sigh of relief when Regulus finally left.
'I never thought I'd see him here,' said Peter, 'sorry if I interrupted something.'
'Nah. No, that's alright. You didn't,' I mumbled, preoccupied. 'I wasn't even aware he knew where I lived…. Anyway! What say ye to a good ol' butterbeer, or better yet, firewhiskey submarines?'
'You wanted to talk to me about something?' There glinted in gold, twinkled in bells and the smell of sherbet hung in the air. I turned around and wasn't particularly surprised to find Dumbledore. What did unnerve me, however, was his question.
'No…. not really,' I answered as best as I could, trying to remember having ever asked him for anything.
'Are you certain?' said Dumbledore again, an amiable smile on his face. Of course he knew about everything that had transpired at the manor and wanted to chastise me. But Dumbledore never scolded anyone, merely appealed to their bad guilt and had them chastise themselves in the end. Dumbledore needn't stress himself on that account; I had no bad guilt and his manipulative ways wasn't going to work. I gave him a dazzling smile and shrugged my shoulder. 'You see, it has come to my attention that you were able to identify the Death Eater.' My smile stiffened, I tried not to let it fade.
'Oh?' I merely asked, forcing a fake laugh. 'Whoever gave you that idea?' Remus, I am going to kill you. A frown creased Dumbledore's already wrinkled forehead. My intuition told me not to meet his gaze, and so I busied myself levitating the dishes over to the sink.
'You would tell me if there ever was something you thought the Order needed to know, wouldn't you Sirius?'
The question hit a nerve and I nearly dropped a mug. My stomach felt cold and the chill spread through my body. What loyalties did I owe Severus? Snape. Snivellus Snape. He hadn't killed me. Well, that was no excuse; I hadn't killed him either. He was bloody stupid becoming a Death Eater. Delving into Dark Arts after- …after everything. He should have known better. Suddenly anger seized me. 'It was Snape,' I ground out, snapping my wand too quickly and two plates crashed into each other. 'I am pretty certain it was Snape.'
There was a long moment of silence where I was just too aware of Dumbledore standing behind me, watching me do the dishes. At least Molly would be happy. The Burrow was a cozy little house, already filled to the brim by Arthur, Molly and their five kids. They had invited a few selected from the Order for dinner, and Dumbledore had most probably invited himself. "I have to say proper hallo to my future students," he had claimed, throwing himself down with the twins on the floor.
But as it were, Dumbledore now patted me on the shoulder, still remaining silent. Either he had known all along and was disappointed it had taken me such a long time to confess, or I might have given him something to think about. I left the kitchen without speaking anymore to him, trying to locate James and Lily to get my mind off things.
The smoke wafting off the numerous cigars made the view inside the Three Broomsticks foggy. The pub was decorated entirely in black and white. Enchanted magpies flew across the room, cawing. It was Saturday and the place was packed with witches and wizards. The Magpies had just won against the Kenmare Kestrels and the celebrations were reaching their peak just after midnight. Klemet was hanging around my shoulder, laughing at something I had just said but already forgotten. His dark brown hair was messily glued to his head by old sweat from the game, and his blue eyes glinted merrily. He said something I couldn't hear over the din and kissed me on the cheek. It was rare of him to show such affections in public, he had to be pissed off his ass. Everyone who was something were present, even types such as the brothers Lestrange. If anyone was dedicated to the game of Quidditch, it was them. You couldn't go to a game in Britain without bumping into them. Apparently they had lost a large chunk of their fortune on betting. It was a scandal I heard.
James was climbing on top of a table with Lily halfheartedly trying to make sure he wouldn't fall and break his neck. He was waving a pint of beer around, sloshing the contents all over the nearest spectators.
'Ladies and gentlemen!' he roared, then coughed a bit and tried again, 'LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!
The room gradually silenced as those sober enough to understand that something was going on elbowed the people standing next to them.
'Ok,' continued James, swaying slightly and taking a huge sip of his beer, spilling half of it down his black and white robes. 'This is not really a speech, as such, I just wanted to say how much I love all of you guys and-'
Here he was interrupted by a drunken chorus of people assuring him they loved him in return.
'-annnnd, and… and! And the only people I love more than you guys are the fantastic MONTROSE MAGPIES! LET'S HEAR IT EVERYONE!'
As one everyone began singing, waving their pints in the air more or less in unison. Crying, hugging and singing. For a while I roared the words together with everyone else, but if it was the noise, the alcohol, the smoke or a mix of it all, I suddenly felt violently sick. Taking a couple of deep breaths I tried to collect myself, but realized it was soon out of my control. Unhooking Klemet's grip around my neck I gesticulated vaguely towards the toilet and started inching that way. It came over me in waves. Everyone soon recognized my predicament and was quickly out of my way. It didn't take long for me to cross the room on my swaying legs. The corridor outside the restrooms was a lot quieter with only a couple of stragglers standing there collecting themselves much like I did. I was hoping I wouldn't have to say goodbye to all the delicious alcohol in my stomach, but just as I was certain things had calmed down the first cramp hit. With practiced precision I stumbled into the restroom, kicked open a cubicle door and spewed violently into the toilet. I kept on heaving until I was on my knees, weakly hanging over the bowl. The taste of burning whiskey and acid in my mouth had me shivering with distaste.
Some time passed where I just sat breathing and spitting into the bowl. Eventually I managed to crawl up on my shaking legs again. How embarrassing. Letting the tap run for a while I splashed the icy cold water all over my face and scrubbed hard. Time to half way sober up. I drank deeply before gurgling the water and spitting it out, trying my hardest to get the sickening taste of stomach acid out of my mouth.
With a couple more deep breaths I looked in the mirror. Damn, I was handsome. Smiling to myself I felt my heart skip a beat. Whoever bagged me was one hell of a lucky guy. I'd have to inform Klemet of that later. And Remus, probably, since he needed to be grateful that he was allowed to stay in the house with such a good looking fellow as myself. I could easily spend the rest of the night just staring in the mirror. I was busy leaning over the sink, getting as close as I could, when I felt something long, stiff and hard in the small of my back. I could hardly blame whoever it was, but the size of it seemed sorely disappointing. A bit too thin, to be frank, more like a- more like a wand.
'Finally falling in love with yourself, are you Black?' questioned a sarcastic voice in my ear. The tip of the wand moved from my back to my neck, mutely commanding me not to move. Searching the mirror I tried to find the identity of the speaker, but he was clever enough to stay away from the reflection. 'I hear you've been asking about me,' continued the voice. Having somewhat sobered up by the discovery of being on the end of an enemy wand, I finally manage to recognize it.
'Snape,' I said, and it was not a question. He laughed silently and removed his wand, allowing me to turn around. My assumption had been completely right. The only thing revealing that he was just as intoxicated as myself was his slow blinking. Otherwise he stood straight, wand casually resting in his palm and he was dressed like a Magpie fan in black robes and a white scarf. 'I didn't know you were a Quidditch fan,' I said, finally managing to grasp at something that made a bit more sense than everything else. Quidditch always made sense. Snape shrugged.
'I'm not really,' he said, 'Rabastan dragged me along. It's a real bore.'
I pointed a finger at him and tried to look stern, 'Quidditch is never boring.' Snape opened his mouth to retaliate when the sound of someone pushing open the door to the restroom stilled the both of us. With a huff Snape grabbed the front of my robes and pushed me into a shadowed corner. He waved his wand and the shadows deepened, becoming more physical. We stood completely still while the man stumbled into a cubicle, pissed and stumbled out again. 'He could have washed his hands,' I scoffed.
'Silence, you' ordered Snape, shoving his wand painfully hard against my cheek. 'I want to know if you've told anyone about seeing me at the manor.'
'Why should I tell you if I did or didn't?'
'You have a point,' said Snape, half-musingly, 'I'll kill you no matter what you answer.'
'Come off it,' I muttered. 'If you wanted to kill me you would have done so, then.'
'You're awfully smug for someone who has a Death Eater's wand pointing at their head.'
His words trickled like syrup through my drunkenness, but finally the meaning stood clearly in front of me. We had had that argument a couple of times before, in sixth grade, and I had been livid he'd waste his talents on Dark Arts. Something in me had perhaps always hoped he'd never actually join the Death Eaters, but apparently I had been wrong. Lily had been right in getting the hell away from him while she still had the chance, just like Dumbledore had insinuated. But whatever else it might be, his new associations had done something to him. He stood tall, eyes not wavering away from mine, a cockish smile gracing his lips. It might also have been because he was drunk; his breath smelled strongly of whiskey. Yet the air around him seemed charged with something. Ignoring the wand, I cupped Severus' cheek and leaned in so close our noses nearly bumped. I wanted to kiss him. Severus blinked slowly, his long, black lashes curiously interesting to me. I kissed him. Closing my eyes everything swirled around me, making me dizzy. The pain of the wand disappeared and was replaced by a strong grip around my neck. It was neither pulling me away nor pushing me closer, merely kept me in place. Leaning Severus' head to the side it allowed us to deepen the kiss. With a dull thud he hit the tiled wall behind him. Moving both my hands to his torso I tried to find some contours under the robes, but as always found myself surprised at how small he seemed inside all the fabric. I broke the kiss to stare at him some more. His lips were red from the kiss.
'Merlin, how I've missed you,' I whispered. Severus might have had a reply, but the doors opened to interrupt us once more.
'Sirius?' called a familiar voice. 'Are you there?' Klemet was closing the door behind himself, peering into the enchanted darkness that we were hiding in. I took a step forward.
'I was just talking to-' I had turned to point out Severus, but he had disappeared together with his shadow.
'Yourself?' offered Klemet and snickered.
'Yeah,' I consented, and smiled.
