They did not talk about it, as they did not talk about a great many things.
This time, though, the day did not dawn on Severus cloistering himself in his office. He left the door ajar, nodded curtly to the tentatively wagging tail that greeted him, and then did his best to behave as though nothing had changed. He felt drained and anesthetized as he walked about in yesterday's robes, busily accomplishing absolutely nothing. As the day wore on, he tiptoed—for lack of a better word—between kitchen and study hoping to steer clear of the dog whose humanity was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Somewhere on the desolate side of three in the morning, exhaustion hit him like the Whomping Willow. The room swam before his eyes as he reached in vain for the empty coffee pot. He sighed, yawned broadly, and slid into the corridor.
From the shadows at the end of the hall, two dark eyes glimmered. They watched Severus intently until he met them. In response, tufted ears pricked attentively and a tail thumped on the carpet. Severus opened his mouth, but no tart remark could spring to mind. The dog stared at him with expectation—and perhaps something else that Severus did not wish to contemplate at the moment. So, he turned away in silence.
It seemed that Snuffles had learned to interpret subtext. For the next few days, Severus only occasionally saw him slinking around corners or lying listlessly in slivers of sunlight. The dog seemed introspective, conflicted even. Then again, Black had never been conflicted about anything in his life. Like most Gryffindors, he was eternally, arrogantly sure of himself.
Days bled into one another as Severus worked mechanically. The weekend passed without comment. He pushed himself to dull the memories of what he had done and dim the knowledge of what he was yet to do. A part of him also hoped that he could make the days fly by if he spent them in his office. Then Black would leave and the school year would start and everything could go back to normal. No more Muggle children smiling at him as he waited for Snuffles. No more "Easy Meals for Single Men". No more waking up to clutch at someone like his life depended on him. No more pondering every word that person said and second-guessing the way he himself had lived his life.
Monday dawned bright and lovely, a fact that Severus only dimly noticed as he traversed the house. Snuffles was nowhere to be seen.
There was a niggling sense that he had forgotten to do something important, though he could not quite recall what it was. To distract from the useless anxiety, he busied himself with a particularly temperamental potion. The unease grew regardless. The cauldron was simmering calmly, subtly changing in hue, when the front door burst open.
"What—" Severus started, before being interrupted by clamorous barking.
Snuffles ran headlong down the hallway, barking at the top of his voice. Upon seeing Severus, the huge dog leapt up and shoved him out of the kitchen with all his considerable weight. He was insistent, pushing Severus down the corridor in spite of his protests, making more noise than any animal should be able to on his own. His eyes were bright and he panted heavily as he herded the wary and baffled man out the door.
Severus rushed into the front yard, his hand fumbling in his robes for his wand. He took three steps into the sunny grass before the world collapsed under him. His wand flew from his hand. For an instant, he thought that someone had planted a portkey, until his hip hit the ground painfully.
His entire left leg had been swallowed up by a hole.
A hole in his front yard.
A hole that had most likely been dug by the hound that stared down at him smugly.
"You," Severus's usually pallid face was flushed with anger as he spluttered apoplectically. "Immature!" He tried in vain to extract himself from the ground.
"Moronic!" He spat, scrabbling for purchase against the grass, knowing he must look ridiculous.
Snuffles was writhing on the ground in what were unmistakable paroxysms of laughter.
"Do you just get off on making my life marginally more irritating?" Severus snarled, not caring that the whole street could see and hear him losing an argument with a dog.
Snuffles stilled suddenly, and then placed his front paws on Severus' shoulders, effectively silencing him. Snuffles' paws were nearly as large as a man's hands and his weight felt more like a person than an animal. This position placed them eye to eye for the first time in a long while. Brown eyes met black quite seriously. Severus half expected Sirius to change, to speak, to express in that familiar voice the strange meaning he seemed to wish to convey. But he did not. He merely met the other wizards eyes steadily, letting their labored breaths mingle. At last, Severus looked away.
"What was the point?" he muttered, attempting to dredge up the fury that had filled him moments ago. The words came out unsure. Somehow, they encompassed more than the mess in his yard. Snuffles snuffled tenderly at his face, mustelidian whiskers tickling Severus's cheeks.
And then, the potion exploded.
The dog met Severus' eyes again and waggled his eyebrows.
All at once, the irritation returned. Snuffles bounded away, only returning to drop his leash in front of the furious professor. Of course. It was a Monday.
There were some things they did not need to talk about.
