TWENTY-TWO.

When they apparated, the world revealed itself in three colours: the blue of the skies, the blue of the ocean and the blue of the house. Beyond these, there was only the neutral grey of the striated bedrock of the narrow peninsula. Even this caught the blue of sunlight and reflected it back to blind.

Severus lifted a hand to shield his eyes.

'It's not that bright,' Harry criticised beside him. 'Are you hungover or something?'

Severus allowed himself a little sigh. In the weeks since the Black affair, the boy had been alternating between pointed insolence and anxiety-ridden caution.

'I haven't slept very long,' he said. He was beyond impressed with his own implacability.

'You know it's bad for you. People should sleep eight hours a night or they start losing brain matter. Your brain could literally shrink.'

'Thank you, Professor Potter. I am sure you have verified this factoid with at least two reliable sources.'

'I think that's him.'

It was definitely him; Severus filed away a note to himself to check if Harry needed new glasses. Still, it was true Black appeared changed in the fresh light of the morning. He was still sickly thin, but the skin on his face no longer caved between the bones, and it was possible to see the tint where it had before been concealed by dirt and illness. Freshly shaven and dressed in new clothes, traditionally wizarding but stylishly cut, he looked almost as though he could have been a man and not merely the memory of one.

Severus steeled himself.

'Harry!'

There was an awkward moment in which they tried to decide whether they should hug. They settled on some patting, arm-locking half-measure that looked merely uncomfortable. It would have irked Severus for hours. Black seemed to dismiss it from memory faster than Severus could blink.

'Is that your house?' Harry was asking. 'It's amazing.'

'It belonged to an uncle of mine.' Black was very pointedly avoiding looking anywhere near Severus. After all, if he did accidentally meet his eye, he would have to acknowledge Severus was there. 'Mad old critter. Apparently, he's been dead ten years now, and good riddance. Do you want a tour? Amelia isn't here yet.'

Of course he called her Amelia.

'Okay,' Harry said cheerfully. There was a false note to the cheer. Severus wondered if he was nervous or merely uncomfortable. 'Is there a beach?'

'No, but there's access to the sea at the back. Very rocky.'

Harry's eyes shone. 'I love rocks.'

Severus allowed himself to be dragged along only as far as the back garden, where Harry verified the existence of the sea access, and no further than that. He had no intention of playing tourist, and while there was no green in the garden there were at least chairs, hors d'oeuvres and even coffee. Amelia had graciously lent Black a house elf for the occasion. This meant Severus was satisfied in knowing the coffee had at no point made contact with Black's body fluids. Even his sweat most likely contained disease.

Speaking of.

'Lupin isn't here, is he?' Severus stopped Black as he was turning back toward the house.

'I'm not a complete moron,' Black snapped. 'Of course he's not here.'

Beside Black, Harry frowned up at them. 'Why shouldn't Professor Lupin be here? Wait, is it because of the werewolf thing?'

'I'm just trying to make a good impression, Harry,' Black explained. His eyes had moved off Severus, but they still sizzled with anger. 'And you know how some wizards are bloody hopeless.'

'I get it,' huffed Harry. 'It's just not very principled, is it?'

Severus turned to hide his smile. He wouldn't have minded Harry seeing it, even though the boy would have certainly taken offense at Severus daring to find anything he said funny. But he didn't want Black to see it, too.

The pair of them disappeared inside the house. Severus eyed the sunchairs but decided he could not afford to be quite so relaxed. He poured himself a cup of black coffee instead and closed his eyes, listening to the crash of the waves that seemed to be coming from every direction. The wind on his face was sharp and salty.

This shouldn't be so difficult. All he needed to do was play nice with purebloods like he had been training for his whole life.

But this was Black.

But it was for Harry.

As he wondered which of these arguments held more weight, footsteps and voices alerted him to a new presence. With a private sigh, he stood again and rounded the house, bracing himself by thinking of the coffee, the cake, the drink he was going to have after this. As any budding alcoholic in their twenties, Vernyhora had a cabinet's worth of hard liquor she happily shared with anyone who offered an excuse to indulge. He just had to make it through the afternoon.

'Madame Bones,' he greeted, in a voice that was only made possible by the promise of alcohol.

She looked at once annoyed and resigned to see him there. 'Professor Snape,' she sighed. 'Always a pleasure.'

'Yeah, hello,' Ron Weasley butted in. Both he and Hermione Granger were practically vibrating with impatience. 'Where's Harry?'

There was little need to answer the question, as in the next moment the door to the house opened and a strangled shriek came from the threshold, followed by Harry zooming past to throw himself at Weasley and Granger. He ignored Bones completely, which gave Severus a thrill of pleasure.

'What are you guys doing here?' he exclaimed. 'What—how are you here?'

'Mrs Bones brought us,' answered Granger. She had tears in her eyes. For Merlin's sake, was it really that serious? 'Oh, Harry—how are you?'

'I'm good—I can't believe you're here—'

'Me neither, mate. I never thought mum would let me come on account of the whole serial murderer thing—' Weasley glanced up at Black, who lingered in the door, strangely awkward '—no offense to you, sir. Uh, I'm sure you're alright.'

Harry's eyes were shining now, too. Severus decided that the two shameful hours he'd spent defending Black to Molly Weasley had not been a complete waste of time.

'Hello, Harry,' said Bones. 'You look well. How has Durmstrang been treating you?'

'Hi.' The boy turned back to his friends. 'I have so much to tell you—and you have to tell me everything about Hogwarts—are you hungry? There's food in the garden, come on.'

The food truly was their saving grace. Once the six of them had sat around the table, it was feasible to feign an interest in eating and so stall conversation. Harry and his friends whispered, kicked and giggled at each other covertly in a way that felt entirely personal and entirely pointed. Severus understood they were likely not laughing at anyone in attendance—that would have required them to care about their existence, and at the moment they most decidedly did not—but it certainly did not help ease the meeting along. Black stewed in silence, looking at no one and eating nothing. Gone was the earlier charm; Severus wondered if it had disappeared due to the crowd or the fact that the head of magical law enforcement was sitting beside him. Bones made several attempts at engaging him, but gave up when, after a string of non-answers, he replied to her query on how he'd celebrated his acquittal by admitting he'd got black-out drunk on two glasses of champagne.

'It was a sorry sight,' he said into the terse silence. 'Should have known that's what happens when you've had most of your body starved out of you over twelve years of imprisonment, and half your organs rearranged with wandless transfiguration.'

Black's shaking hands belied the easy tone. Severus felt the overwhelming instinct to kick him into pulling himself together. He had to work hard to remember no one cared if Black was a wreck of a human being, as long as he was a Black and as long as he was an embarrassment to the wizarding world's judicial system.

'This is a fine place to recuperate, I imagine.' Bones cleared her throat. 'You can taste the Norwegian air. And the view, the quiet—it feels like we are at the end of the world.'

Harry caught Severus's eye, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. They had seen the end of the world. There was so much more between this and it.

'It's very nice,' Granger contributed. 'I've never been this far up north. It's really quite cold. Though I suppose Durmstrang's even colder, isn't it?'

Harry laughed sourly. 'For sure. This is nothing.'

'And how have you been enjoying Durmstrang, Harry?' Bones implored once more. She was using the sweet, careful voice of a patient adult confused at why a toddler was kicking its legs out at them. Severus had a few theories, though he was equally sure that attempting to quantify the swings in the boy's mood was as pointless as trying to attribute reason to the weather.

At least Harry had the good sense not to ignore her completely. 'I guess it was interesting to see it,' he said musingly, 'even if it is mostly hopeless.'

'Why's it hopeless?' Weasley asked through a mouth stuffed full of cake. 'They've got the dogsleds and the bears and Viktor Krum, don't they? Can't be that bad.'

'Those are great,' Harry acquiesced, once again confirming Severus's belief that the tastes of thirteen-year-olds went against the basic laws of human nature. 'But—for instance, I have this friend whose mum's married a muggle and it's this big thing. Ever since it happened, it's been hell. Barely anyone's talking to him anymore, even the teachers. I mean, we still are—but he's so depressed he barely even talks back. And he doesn't even see that it's all stupid.'

'That is unfortunate.' Bones' mouth was set in a line. 'I am sorry this happened to your friend. But I do think that even if your godfather decides that you should return to Hogwarts, this will have been an important learning experience. It can only benefit you as you enter wizarding society.'

The boy had entered wizarding society nearly three years ago, but of course it had been merely as an unfortunately famous half-blood orphan raised by muggles. He would be entering it now as the Black heir. Severus stopped himself pointing out that, considering the silent panic attack Black was currently engaged in, he was unlikely to be bringing Harry along to high society lunches anytime soon.

'I don't know what I'd have learnt,' Harry scoffed. 'Most of the people there seemed stupid to me.'

Severus should really have intervened right then. Naturally Black was too much of a Potter sycophant to tell the boy off for being obnoxious, and Bones was too busy trying to marry this version of Harry with the shy little boy she'd held authority over.

He promised himself he would intervene the moment Harry had moved on from badmouthing purebloods.

'Well,' Bones spoke again, some of the earlier patience fading away from her tone. 'I've heard from Headmaster Karkaroff that you've made friends with some illustrious students. Though you may find yourself disagreeing with some of their more traditional views, you will encounter many wizards who share them. It is useful to understand where they are coming from.'

'I did learn a lot from my friends there,' Harry agreed. 'Like how to bowl. It's this muggle sport. And that if you add vodka to Coca Cola, it doesn't taste so much of Skele-Gro anymore, and what kind of jeans to get if you want your arse to look good.'

Severus was taking an unfortunate sip of coffee and choked on it. Weasley snorted so hard the cake went out through his nose. Granger was looking wildly between Severus and Bones, who sat dead still and staring, fork halfway up to her mouth. Even Black had stopped his infernal shaking to give the event his full attention.

'What?' The boy had the gall to look very pleased with himself. 'I'm sure it'll all be very useful.'

'This is it,' Severus managed through another cough. His lungs were on fire. 'You've had your fun. If you cannot behave like a civilised member of society, leave the table.'

'I didn't even—'

'Go, Potter.'

The boy stood with the force of a statement. The chair teetered dangerously behind him as he made off toward the shore. Of course: that's where his beloved rocks were.

'Well?' Severus snapped at Weasley and Granger. 'Is our company so very interesting?'

They did not need to be told twice. Not even their half-eaten cake prevented them from scampering after him. Severus tried to discreetly shuffle his chair forward so he might see them better out on shore, just in case any of their ideas for blowing off steam included recreational drowning.

'Are you aware of what this—Coca Cola—is, Professor?' Bones asked him weakly, and then Black laughed.

'He's like the perfect kid,' he said, clutching at his side. 'Merlin. That was the best thing I've seen in thirteen years.'

'I think perhaps this is my cue to leave.' Bones stood. 'I suppose technically things have not been finalised yet, but there seems little need to put on an act. You should have some time to get to know each other, Sirius, and I fear my presence is only an agitator.'

'Right.' Black seemed to remember his manners. 'Thank you for coming. I'll walk you back to the apparition point—'

'No need,' she cut him off. 'I will find my own way. Please give Mr Potter my best; and do tell him I hope when we meet again, he'll be in a—a different mood.'

If different was all she was after, Severus was positive she would get her wish.

Although he was glad for her to leave, he was equally displeased to be left alone with Black. Severus expected him to rise from his chair the moment Bones had gone and venture down the shore to join the children, who were now busy daring each other to dip their toes in the angry waters and trying desperately to crack their heads on the slippery stones.

But Black remained fixed where he was, his eyes dark and distant.

It was as good a time as any for a little reminder.

'Amelia Bones and the other idiots at the Ministry might go to putty in your filthy paws, Black,' Severus said, 'but I assure you that both Dumbledore and myself have recourse to make you fall in line. For the time being, you may have him for a couple of days at a time, provided the werewolf is present and provided that Harry reports zero incidents of your getting black-out drunk or breaking into hysterics over having to talk to other human beings. Otherwise, he stays with the Weasleys or he stays at Hogwarts. Is that understood?'

Black shut his eyes. 'Yes,' he said. 'Fuck you.'

Severus allowed himself the smile. 'No reason to get so upset with me, Black. I am merely Dumbledore's emissary.'

His laugh was a bark: angry and rough. 'Dumbledore's emissary? Really? Interesting. Because when I last spoke to Dumbledore, he told me, and I quote, with regards to Harry do whatever Severus says. It will be easier on all of us. I'm just curious where all this dedication was back when he was living with Petunia and her muggle little circus of a family. Yes—Amelia told me. Apparently, as a prospective guardian I am supposed to be informed of any suspicion of past fucking abuse.'

Severus felt heat rise to his face. 'Excuse me that my whole life does not revolve around James Potter's spawn,' he retorted, realising too late how the statement sounded in the circumstances.

Black stared at him for a beat, then laughed. He was having a whale of a time today, Severus noted sourly.

'You know, I thought at first James would have been horrified,' he wheezed. 'But now I honestly think he'd find all this bloody hilarious.'

Strangely, Severus felt no particular emotion rise in him at the words. What would James Potter have thought? What would Lily? Severus did not know and frankly struggled to care. It was as Harry had yelled out at him before Easter: they were dead now and they would not be getting any less so regardless of what Severus got up to. If Lily and her godawful mistake of a husband were looking down at Severus and cackling at the irony of it all, let them cackle. After all that Severus had done to her, he supposed Lily deserved to have her fun.

Harry had accused him of an obsession with the past, and Severus could not entirely disagree. He had always been enamoured with the what ifs. But to accuse him of valuing memories more than he did actualities was simply no longer correct. It hadn't been since that first summer Severus had spent with the boy. The past still clawed at him, yes, but it no longer set his clocks.

He understood Harry could not know as much because Severus had not told him. He didn't know how to condense into simple words what struck him so big and so difficult.

Before he could formulate a reply that would not guarantee Black never again allowed him in Harry's vicinity without first shedding blood, Severus saw the boy running back toward them, shirt billowing in the wind. Durmstrang had got him used to the cold. He had steadfastly refused the jumper that Severus had carried across two Floo connections and three Apparitions.

'Hey,' the boy said as he came to a halt in front of them, chest heaving from the run. 'Where's Mrs Bones?'

'Your company was so delightful she didn't think she could take any more of it. If you are here to verify we will not be murdering each other in her absence, you can rest assured your friends' presence as witnesses has foiled me.'

'I didn't think you'd murder-murder each other. But—are you okay, like, sitting here just the two of you alone?'

Shockingly, both the question and the concern seemed to be directed at Severus. It was a pleasant change from the usual. The boy had had his moments over Easter, but he still tended to be a little cold toward Severus when he remembered that he should.

'If it ceases to be peaceful, I assure you that you will be able to tell by the screams.'

'Okay.' He sounded doubtful. 'And, uhm, what about you, Sirius?'

Black perked up immediately, like a puppy praised. Severus gave a little scoff, which Harry heard. He sent him a blistering glare.

'It's all good, Harry,' Black said. 'Go have fun with your friends.'

'Can I take some food?' Harry asked Severus, then remembered and looked again to Black. 'I mean, can I?'

Black smiled, clearly confused. 'Sure. Take whatever—Amelia's house elf is still here I think, if you wanted anything else—'

'I'll just carry things over from here.' Harry set about piling sweets onto a napkin. Severus pre-emptively swiped his own plate out of reach. He'd only just helped himself to the last of the cinnamon buns and had full intention of keeping hold of it long enough to dip into his coffee.

'Mr Potter has the unfortunate habit of freeing the house elves he encounters,' Severus commented. 'I would keep him well away.'

'Freeing? What house elves have you freed?'

'Just Dobby,' Harry shrugged. 'He was the Malfoys' elf.'

Black's teeth showed in a smile. They were still yellow and awful, but what gaps had awed between them had been filled. 'That is excellent.'

'Oh—thanks, I guess. Uhm, by the way.' He threw a careful look at Severus, who reflexively tugged his plate closer to his chest. In a lowered voice, the boy continued, 'You know I wasn't serious about the thing with the vodka earlier. I mean, I didn't drink any.'

'You'd better not have.'

'I didn't!'

'Don't raise your voice at me,' Severus admonished, annoyed.

'Then don't talk to me in that tone.'

Severus froze, his eyes shooting up to meet Harry's. Even the boy looked a little taken aback at what had just come out of his mouth.

Severus made his voice silky sweet. 'What was that? Would you like to say that to me again, Harry?'

'N—nothing, I just—I told you I didn't drink it and you're still talking like you're about to yell at me for doing something wrong!'

'I never implied that you had any. I was merely warning you.'

To their side, Black wasn't remotely trying to pretend that he wasn't listening in. His gaze on Harry was puzzled. Oh, had he expected his perfect child to be at all rational?

'I haven't done anything like that, and you just assume if you don't yell at me, I will?' Harry pressed on. 'How is that fair?'

On the one hand, Severus wanted nothing more but to take the boy to task. This was unacceptable and this was ridiculous. More importantly, Black was here to witness James Potter's son taking extreme liberties, and Severus was itching to reassert some sort of authority.

On the other hand, he had done this dance many a time before and he knew exactly where this road led. He breathed. He said nothing.

'Why don't you just warn me about doing everything that's possible to do, then?' Harry was still at it. 'You'd better not kick puppies. You'd better not throw children off cliffs. You'd better not fail out of school and join a crime syndicate. Because otherwise, I'll definitely do all of it, right?'

'Are you done?'

The boy went temporarily mute with outrage.

'Perhaps the warning was unnecessary,' Severus said smoothly. 'After all, you have generally proven yourself to be a strong independent thinker, and you have shown maturity when faced with important decisions.'

'What are you doing?' Suspicion sparkled in the boy's eyes.

'I am agreeing with your assessment that you do not require warnings to behave responsibly,' Severus explained leisurely. 'Your godfather was just saying a moment ago you were a perfect child, so I imagine he would concur.'

Harry had gone a little pink around the ears. He shifted from foot to foot. 'I don't like this,' he declared.

'I don't like it when you speak to me the way you have just now.'

The boy cringed. 'Sorry,' he muttered. 'But you're being weird, so I'm going to go now.'

'Don't go into the water.'

'Why wouldn't I? It's only freezing.' He was apparently recovering from the earlier fluster. 'I'll just take this—Are there any more of the cinnamon ones?'

Severus sighed. He gave him his plate.

He could feel Black's gaze on him as the boy dashed off again. Under its weight, Severus could not decide whether to feel embarrassed or derisive.

'Alright,' Black snapped all at once. He sounded furious, though Severus could not have guessed at the reason for it. 'Why wouldn't they give him to you?'

The list of things Severus would not stand to discuss with Sirius Black was extensive. This happened to be at the very top.

Who had even told him? Was it Dumbledore? Bones? It couldn't have been Harry. The boy avoided the topic like the plague.

He hoped that his voice held none of the emotion spurred when he bit back, 'Why do you think?'

Black regarded him for a moment. He hummed. 'I guess. But then again, you know. Isn't the Lamotte bloke two shades away from Death Eater? If it walks like a gnome and talks like a gnome, what does it matter if it has a Dark Mark or not?'

'It does not,' Severus said bitterly. 'It might matter, however, if it has a family coat of arms.'

'Right,' Black said immediately. 'But your mother was a Prince, wasn't she?'

'Before she was disinherited for marrying an animal, yes.'

'You could contest it.' Severus looked at him quizzically. 'The disinheritance. The line must be nearly dead. Aren't half of them? They need new blood.'

The rage gripped at Severus's throat. 'Do you honestly think,' he hissed, 'that I want anything to do with these people? I am not one of them. I have never been one of them.'

Black waved him off. 'You think I like what my dear old mother stood for, Snape? I can't change who she was. All I can do is choose what to do with the legacy now that I have it. But if you refuse to even—'

'I am the son of a muggle. My mother died a Snape, and so will I,' Severus heard himself say. The pounding of the blood in his ears distorted his voice nearly beyond recognition. 'That is my legacy.'

His hands were fisting. He quickly looked away from Black and toward the shore, where Harry was showing his friends how he could compel the waves to lap and tease at their ankles. He counted his breaths as he watched, daring his heart to stop being ridiculous.

As though sensing his gaze, Harry glanced up. He waved.

And Severus thought, I will never see my father again.

It did not hurt as much as he had expected to put words to it. He had got from his father everything his father had been able to give him: a name, a muddied blood, and a legacy. Here was the legacy: a forever-knowledge of how to use the microwave, of how to change the lightbulb the muggle way, how to drive a car. The forever-knowledge of what fear tasted like when you were a child fooling themselves into hope. The bruises that had long faded. The set of his eyes, the cut of his chin, the propensity for migraines, an appreciation for dark humour and an ease with the pencil. It was plenty.

Deep down, Severus had always known he would not be getting more. Deep down, Severus had always wanted more despite. Now, he thought perhaps this wanting was another part of his father's legacy. Another thing he could keep for himself and, precisely as the idiot Black had said, use in whatever way suited him.

It wasn't as good as love, but it would do.

With shaking hands, he clawed at his robes. He had to do it now and then leave. Hide away inside the house until it was time to go. Force his lungs and his face again into compliance.

He threw the letters at Black, who startled, knocking his legs into the table. Severus's cup overturned, spilling the last of his coffee.

'They're Potter's,' Severus said hollowly. 'James Potter's. He wrote them to Lupin.'

Black handled the letters as though they were priceless artefacts. It was how Severus would have touched anything that had belonged to Lily. It felt obscene to be there to watch it done.

'Lupin wanted the boy to have them, but I haven't passed them on.' He swallowed. 'You should. It will give you something to talk about, and you will be able to provide the context I could not.'

Black looked up at him. His eyes were glassy. Merlin, but Severus hated all of this.

He opened his mouth. He closed it. He hesitated. Severus felt a flash of dread that he might be bracing himself to thank him.

'Oh, fuck off,' Black said. 'Fine.'

'How lovely,' Severus sneered. 'A shining example of good pureblood manners.'

'Shut up.'

Black caught his eye. There was something in his gaze that did in fact shut Severus up.

'Damn it all,' he sighed. 'I guess I have a proposition for you.'