Sirius awoke to slender fingers lightly brushing over his nose. Yawning lazily he licked at the probing digits assuming that they were Lupin's. The disgusted snort he received in response was far from Lupin's normal noises. He opened his eyes, looking down his long fuzzy muzzle at the underside of a bed. He slowly crawled out and sniffed the air. Still groggy from sleep he blinked up at the un-amused, scowling face of a pale, bedraggled Snape.

"There he is." Pomphry patted Sirius gently between the ears. "Must be one of Hagrid's pets. Don't know how he brought you here, but if he hadn't you might have died."

"How horrible that would have been." Snape sneered at the dog whose head was larger than his.

Sirius lightly bore his teeth and felt satisfied at how the boy recoiled ever so slightly. If Pomphry noticed the slight animosity she said nothing.

"Now, Severus, I am going to be gone for just a moment… checking on something. Will you be alright on your own?"

"I think I can manage." He pulled his thin arms beneath his blanket, keeping an eye on the large dog beside him. "It was just a bump on the head."

"You know what I mean, I don't want a reoccurrence of last week." She eyed the boy with a knowing suspicion.

Snape made no response other than rolling his dark eyes up at the ceiling as if putting up with her worries were almost beyond his ability.

The old nurse left with another gentle pat on Sirius as if to say he should keep an eye on the boy. Sirius wasted no time in hoping up onto one of the many unoccupied beds and sprawling out. It was not the most comfortable place to lay, but much more so than the floor. His gaze drifted to Snape, and the boy looked much as he remembered him to, painfully skinny with a disproportionate nose and dark, unfeeling eyes almost hidden in a spill of lanky hair. The only real difference was the large white bandage wrapped tightly over his forehead, pulling a bit of his oily hair away from his face.

Snape was watching the dog as closely as the dog watched him. "Stupid dog, you ruined everything." He pulled himself up from the bed and by the way he wobbled on his feet, Sirius did not think he should be up. The slender boy staggered over the floor to Pomphry's desk, riffling through any drawers that were not locked. "Damn that old bird." He growled under his breath and slammed a drawer that had apparently offended him.

Sirius didn't think he had ever heard Snape swear, even just a little. It was strange to see him not skulking in a corner and actually walking like a normal person, without his shoulders hunched forward.

"She thinks I don't know what happened, but I do." He pointed one accusing finger at Sirius who still laid many beds away. "I'm supposed to be dead. Then that damned Potter and Black would be arrested. Everyone would know it was their fault I died and then," he held up a shiny bit of something in his hand, victory sharpening his angular features, "I would win." He shuffled back to his bead, leaning slightly on the metal frame for support. "Stupid Potter. " He sat heavily on the bed and Sirius could see what he held. A small knife, probably meant for cutting herbs or such was clutched in one of the long pale hands.

Sirius could feel the fur on his neck bristle slightly. He did not know what Snape's plan for the petite blade was, but he did not like the direction that they were headed. The knowledge that Snape had gone to the Shack, hoping to die and blame him, the younger him, sat even less well than the knife. Sirius stayed on his bed, but settled his legs more firmly beneath him just in case he had to suddenly leap away and watched as Snape carefully rolled up one of his snow dampened sleeves. It was surprising to see so many thin scars marring the otherwise perfect flesh, thin rivulets of silvered flesh gleamed softly in the dim lights.

"She stopped me last time, but she's not here and you're too stupid to stop me. Aren't you, you big mutt?" Closing his eyes slightly, Snape pressed the blade into the crook of his arm and took in a sharp breath.

Sirius jumped off of his bed and skittered over the floor to reach Snape. If the stupid kid wanted to kill himself, he could do it on his own time, not on the night that the young Sirius Black almost tricked him into being eaten by Lupin. Somehow the teachers would blame James and him, the younger him, they would say the boys provoked him, berated him until he had no other choice or some rot like that. He tackled Snape for the second time that night, his muscled body knocking the boy down and pushing the air from his lungs.

"Get off of me you stinking rug!" Snape pushed at the unmoving body that lay over him. "What are you doing, dog? Want to finish me off?" His struggling was like that of a small child and Sirius remained in place ever when one pale arm was thrust under his nose in a horrific offering. "Go ahead. That stupid knife was to dull to cut butter. Use those big teeth and just kill me." He was no longer yelling, his voice tapering down to a choked whisper.

Sirius watched the anger and frustration, all plans of vengeance melt away until Snape was no more than a child, crying softly into his side. Salty tears soaked into his fur, making him somewhat moist and more than a little uncomfortable. He couldn't remember the last time someone cried on him, but he knew that Snape never had. He hated the kid as much in that moment as he always had, but at the same time, it was somewhat painful the way that he tried to stifle his sobs into Sirius' coarse black hair as if it was all he could do to keep himself from falling apart. With a long suffering sigh, Sirius lifted himself off of the boy, letting him curl in on himself, before settling down beside him. It took a few heartbeats before the scarred arms wrapped tightly around his neck and Snape buried his face into Sirius' barreled dog chest, crying for all the world as if his heart was breaking.