A/N: We reached a turn in the story, at last. Please, tell me what you think and if you're still enjoying the ride... I'm feeling so insecure about this one, it's weird sharing something that lived in my head for weeks!

Thank you all for the favs and reviews, every single one of them makes me happy.

Chapter 4: Old Scars

The Potter's cottage was as warm and as welcoming as ever. Alastor was a little late – one of the usual mini-crises at work that shouldn't have needed his help except with Brown being an incompetent little shit and all that – but nobody seemed to be crossed at him for being the last person to show up.

The usual crowd had been invited, but as was usually the case, only a fraction could make it – Albus was too busy during the school year, as was Hagrid, the Weasleys had not been able to find someone to mind their children and Emmeline was too busy lately at the Ministry.

That left James and Lily Potter, the most frequent hosts, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin who could have lived in the house as well and nobody would have noticed any difference, Frank and Alice – with their little Neville who was currently busy playing with little Harry – and Alastor of course, who found out after the war that he liked to hang out with that younger side of the Order more than he would have thought. Of course, when Albus was not there – which was quite often due to the man's busy schedule – Alastor felt like an old relic among all this youth; he didn't mind though, in a way it was even keeping him young by osmosis.

Ironically, he didn't socialize much with the older crowd from their war days: Ephias, Dedalus or Sturgis… Mundungus had become persona non grata after some of the old silver crockery from James's ancestors had mysteriously disappeared… Alastor suspected that since Harry was born, Lily had not been so keen on having the dubious man in her home anyway.

As Alastor was still busy getting out of his outer robe in the lobby, while smiling at everyone through the open separation between it and the living room, James hurried towards him.

"Moody! Come sit with us, boss!"

"Call me Alastor, Potter, we're not at work!"

"I will, as soon as you use 'James', old man!"

The affectionate jibe made Alastor think of Severus at once. As always, the young man had refused to come despite the invitation.

Everyone got up to welcome him when he entered the living room and Alastor soon found himself sitting between Remus and Sirius, a Firewhisky in one hand and a fancy appetizer in the other. He liked these nights, it helped him relax and he felt like he didn't have to put up any front among this particular set of people. He let out a breath and set out to enjoy his evening.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Lily had been trying to get his attention for some time now and Alastor felt a little on edge. He knew what she wanted… what she always wanted these days… He also knew Severus's stubborn answer and he wasn't in any hurry to see the same sad look on the young woman's face. He could feel the guilt oozing from her every time they had this conversation and it made him very uncomfortable. Maybe he was just not very good at this "feelings" stuff, or maybe it stirred something akin to guilt inside himself that he didn't want to wake up. Whatever it was, he didn't look forward to disappointing Lily again.

Trying to avoid meeting the green eyes, he turned towards Sirius:

"So, how is it going at the shop, still busy?"

Sirius, who was always happy to talk about his little affair, didn't disappoint:

"Oh yes! We just started this new line, it's been crazy!"

"What line is that, then?" asked Alastor, distractedly.

"Just these miniature animals and creatures: kneazles, dogs, owls, we even have dragons now! They come with those little houses, each one unique to the creature you choose, and the kid has to feed them, clean up after them, play with them and do all the stuff necessary to keep them healthy and happy. The goal is to keep them alive the longest time possible. It's the trendiest thing among school-aged children at the moment!"

"Sounds like a recipe for disaster…" grumbled Alastor, imagining the mess something like that could create in a child's room.

"Not at all. There's no real piss or anything like that, it's all fake! Even the food is fake. They have these little bottles, just like for babies, and the food in them never runs dry."

"But what when the toy dies, then? Aren't parents angry about having to deal with distressed children because of your latest silly idea of what constitutes a toy?" asked Alastor, imagining inconsolable children driving their parents crazy.

"Merlin, you are an old fart, aren't you?" Teased Sirius, making Alastor frown, offended, "Of course they don't really die! That would be a very cruel thing to do to a child! The kid only has to restart the game and it's ready to go again, and so on. I'm not a monster you know, despite what you could hear among the girls!" He concluded, laughing that disarming laugh of his that resembled a bark.

"Oh, that's better then," conceded Alastor, a little relieved for the poor parents.

Sirius was still laughing at him but Alastor thought, still a little vexed, that his questions had not been that stupid. Wanting to wipe the amusement off the younger man's face, he cunningly asked:

"So, is that job position still open for Severus, then?"

Sirius's mirth died at once, making Alastor smirk smugly.

"Of course," was the sober reply, "has Snape finally extracted that stiff broom from his ugly arse and accepted the offer, then?" Sirius teased, a little meanly.

"Don't talk about him like that in front of me, Black," replied Alastor, very coldly.

Sirius seemed to register the sudden change of tone because he frowned lightly before answering in a much more serious tone:

"I was only joking, jeez, you should know by now not to take anything I say seriously, Alastor…"

"I don't appreciate you mocking Severus's appearance, that's all."

The reasons for Alastor's particular distaste about comments on Severus's looks floated silently between the two men for a moment, unvoiced but very tangible nonetheless.

"So, has he, then?" said Sirius, eventually. At Alastor's bewilderment, he added, "Accepted my offer, that is?"

Alastor shook his head, letting his frustration with Severus show.

"No, not yet. I can say he will, though. He's close. Too much pride in that thin body, let me tell you."

"Well," replied Sirius, seeming to carefully choose his words, "let me know when he is ready."

"I will. Won't be long now."

"I will have someone to help for the summer anyway, I'm not in any hurry. Just give me a little advance warning when the time comes, that's all."

The rest of the evening went smoothly, with the exception of Lily holding Alastor back when he was about to leave to repeat her usual request, as anticipated. Alastor was still reeling with it when he opened the door of his flat, turning the lights on with a flick of his wand.

As often was the case when he came back a little late from one of these gatherings, Severus seemed to already be in bed. Alastor felt a little twinge in his chest: he had hoped the other man would still be up, he would have enjoyed a little chat with his friend; going to bed without their usual chit-chat never felt right.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Sirius cleaned the counter for the hundredth time and then sighed. Merlin, was he anxious… This was ridiculous!

He was waiting for Alastor to show up with… well, with Snape. How had Sirius ended up in such a ridiculous situation? Snape was going to be his employee… Surely the world had tilted on its axis?

It had been Alastor's idea of course: one day Sirius had kept complaining about the fact that he needed some help at the shop, not foreseeing the consequences of his moaning, and he was now paying for it, dearly.

But how could he refuse, really? With James looking guilty every time Snape's name was uttered, Lily, who was so consumed by her own guilt that James had confided to Sirius and Remus about how worried he was about her sinking back into her old depression, and… well, Sirius himself had to admit that he didn't feel exactly comfortable thinking about the git.

He had always hated Snape. Snape had been a greasy, sneaky child at school and had grown into a slimy jerk, always sucking up to his big pure-blooded friends, trying to look important; Sirius had only felt disgust at the time. The Slytherin embodied everything that was wrong in Sirius' family and, for that, he had made him pay dearly. He was not proud of it now, of course, but how could he have predicted that that disagreeable boy could one day turn out to save them all, to confront the big bad evil with such bravery, such courage, that even Sirius wouldn't be able to help feeling a great deal of admiration?

It was totally insane.

Of course, on top of that, there were the two years at St Mungo's… Well, to be fair, Lily had been a frequent visitor when the git was hospitalized… but the vacant stare, the empty shell of the man, the horrible disfigurement and injuries, all of that had been taking such a huge toll on Lily that they had had to put a stop to it.

The Healers had kept saying that there was no chance the man was ever going to snap out of it anyway, what good could torturing herself achieve? A textbook case of post-torture permanent dissociation, they called it. Snape had retreated into himself so far, so deep, he had hidden so well to escape what had been done to him when he was tortured that no one was able to bring him back… Until one day, two years later, when he had suddenly woken up, of course. Again, how were they supposed to predict that when they had been told over and over again that it wasn't going to happen, ever.

And then, the git had been out of hospital and had disappeared, until Alastor found him again… apparently living off the streets, without any support from anyone, utterly alone and broken. But how could they have known about it? They just didn't know, damn it!

Really, all of it was just a series of unpredictable events and none of it was any of their fault. Right?

The doorbell threw Sirius outside of his own head, and he straightened up and looked intently at the two men entering the shop. Alastor was his usual self, dressed in his Auror's robe and looking rough around the edges. Today, however, he didn't wear his usual no-nonsense expression but a worried frown that was quite new on his face – new to Sirius anyway. Alastor gave him a quick nod, silently advancing towards the counter with his silent shadow following behind. Sirius focused his gaze on said shadow, trying to spy Snape under the heavy hood the man was sporting. He was draped in black robes so ample, his thin form was not visible from the outside. The hood covered half his face and only the tip of his large nose and his thin mouth were visible. There was some scarring visible on the left side of the mouth, but nothing too obvious.

"Sorry we're late, Sirius, somebody had been making excuses all morning," said Alastor in a grumpy voice.

The Auror seemed to be in quite the mood. Sirius couldn't help but smile at the weird relationship between the man and his school nemesis. Snape bunking at Alastor's was definitely weird, but also endearing somehow… on Alastor's part anyway. Sirius had not met with Snape since school. He didn't even know if their paths had ever crossed while they had been fighting each other, damn Death Eaters' masks and all that. Even without being able to see his face, however, Snape looked like a total stranger today, his whole posture all wrong; it made Sirius feel on edge.

"No problem, Alastor," replied Sirius politely, before adding in a more serious tone, "don't make it a habit, though, Snape. I need someone reliable around here."

Visibly startled at being addressed directly, Snape took a step back. Sirius frowned. What was that?

Alastor let out a deep sigh then, and turned to address Snape, showing his back to Sirius:

"Severus, we talked about it. Sirius here just wants to help. This isn't charity either, it's a job, if you don't fit the need, he won't keep you. This is a regular chance at something better, stop being ridiculous, please… and lose the fucking hood already!"

Alastor sounded like he was repeating a mantra, like it had been the hundredth time he had said the exact same thing that day already. Sirius was starting to feel intrigued. Snape's attitude, however, was getting on his nerves.

"Yeah, lose the hood Snape, I don't employ Dementors."

"Sirius! You're not helping."

Alastor had turned back towards Sirius and he looked crossed now.

"Alright, alright! I'm just kidding, you know me, old man."

Alastor grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like '...both going to send me to an early grave!' Sirius decided then that enough was enough, if Snape was going to be his employee, they needed to establish some rules from the get-go:

"The first customers will be there in about one hour, I really need to get a start with my day here. So, Snape, do you want to try to work here, yes or no?"

Sirius waited. He was about to let his annoyance show when Alastor shook his head and took Snape's sleeve, a little brusquely, pulling him roughly against the counter.

Snape just stood there, as stiff as a stone statue, and Alastor barked:

"Well, are you going to answer or should we go home?"

Sirius knew that Alastor was getting angry… and an angry Alastor wouldn't solve anything. With as little movement as he could manage, Sirius got Alastor's attention and gestured for him to leave the shop. The Auror frowned at first, but he finally resigned himself and left in silence, looking very worried again. Sirius could have bet his entire Gringotts' vault that the other man was going to stay very close to the shop, just in case.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

What was wrong with him? Severus knew this was an opportunity that wouldn't present itself again, he had made his choice already and had resigned himself to the indignity of it, and yet, he felt paralyzed by terror and unable to move now that it had become real.

Sirius Black was right in front of him, with only the shop counter to separate them, and Severus wanted to run away and hide himself. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

He stood there in a panic for some time, before it started to recede a little and he became aware of his surroundings yet again. That's when he heard movement from Black's side and lifted his head a little, trying to see what the other man was up to.

Black was walking away. Severus followed him with his eye, intrigued despite himself and feeling his panic start to stir again in his chest: was he about to lose this job before having even tried it? He was half-way through his conclusion that maybe he ought to leave and accept that he had, once again, screwed everything up, when Black's voice came booming from the next room:

"Are you coming, Snape, or do I have to do everything myself around here?"

Severus hurried towards the voice, silently fuming about how his body tended to answer without his consent when he was ordered around.

The backroom of the shop was full of tall shelves from ground to ceiling, arranged in parallel rows and filling the majority of the space. There was one other door on the right, closed and with a "private" sign on it. Severus wondered if it led to Black's own flat; he seemed to remember Alastor telling him that the prat lived in a flat on top of the shop.

"Over here," came the booming voice, from behind the rows of shelving, potentially from the other side of the room.

Severus resigned himself again and walked towards it, taking in the amount of what he supposed were magical toys and repair pieces surrounding him. Finally, he reached the other side – the room was big, way bigger than the size of the little front shop could have led Severus to imagine – and here was Sirius Black, as handsome and arrogant-looking as ever, waiting for him in the middle of what looked like a repair workshop area, full of wooden tables and tools, with various half-repaired toys scattered on all the surfaces. His boss.

Severus stopped a few steps away from the other man and waited. He was not panicking anymore, he wasn't even feeling anxious. He just felt empty and tired and ready to do whatever the other man wanted; there was nothing else to do, he was trapped but resigned. Maybe he did learn something, after all, maybe he was finally ready to take the blows standing and without uselessly fighting back. Maybe he had spent all his struggles at last, all his strength, and was ready to let everything and everyone use him as he had always been made to be used. It was time to accept that Tobias may have been right all along, and to stop the rebellion against the inevitable.

He had spent the previous night awake, imagining all the petty things Black could do to him as his boss. Would he call him 'Snivellus' routinely now? Would he point out how ugly he was — he didn't hold back at school and surely he would have so much more ammunition now? Would he ask him to do all the mind-numbing, thankless work, while he mocked him for being obedient? Would he push him around just to try to get a rise out of Severus, like he did at Hogwarts? Black could even beat him, from the dark refuge of his little shop where no one would see what was going on, Severus already knew he was not going to complain unless it was life-endangering. There was no exit door from his pathetic life, there never was; the only difference was that he was now acutely aware of it.

"Snape, are you listening to me?"

Black's voice cut through his painful thoughts and Severus straightened his head, focusing on what was being said to him.

"I'm listening," he replied meekly.

Black seemed to be taken aback, maybe because it was the first time he had heard Severus' voice in a long time and it carried as much scars as his body. He wasn't the boy Black and his friends liked to torment anymore, that felt like a lifetime ago and for sure Severus's voice showed this.

"Good… good," said Black, aiming for matter-of-fact and failing miserably, "Okay, first, can you take the hood off, Snape, it's weird talking to someone without being able to look them in the eyes."

Severus sneered at the usual faux-pas. Black being an unsubtle jerk was so familiar, it steered some old vindication from deep within. His irritation made him want to shock, to wipe the confidence from the other face. He deliberately used his damaged right hand and slowly, taking care of showing it up clearly to the other man, he grabbed his hood and lowered it down behind his head, showing his face for the first time to his old enemy.

Black's loud gasp didn't feel as satisfying as Severus would have thought. However, and because he just couldn't help himself, he said with all the venom he could muster:

"Eye, not eyes."

The 'you moron' stayed unsaid but didn't escape the other's notice, if his irritated frown was anything to go by.

"Okay, eye. Whatever," replied Black, trying to hide how wrong-footed and ruffled he was feeling, and failing again.

"So, what do you want me to do, Black?" asked Severus, deciding to cut the pleasantries off and get to the point.

"No 'boss' then, Snape?" replied Black, looking like himself again.

Severus looked the other man hard in the eyes at that. He should have expected nothing else from one of the golden boys of Gryffindor, really.

"Can you get on with the humiliation at a faster pace, Black, so we can finally talk about work?" he said with heavy sarcasm, "Or was it all just another excuse, then, to get your usual boner out of my misery?" Severus added shortly, his anger starting to bubble under his skin.

Sirius raised both his hands in a show of peace, not fooling Severus for one second.

"Wow, calm down, will you? I didn't say yes to Alastor just so I could humiliate you. It's good to see you haven't changed, though, always trying to play the victim. Now, you never had a fun bone in you, I will give you that. My bad then."

Severus just sneered, starting to feel tired again and not willing to play their little game like nothing had changed. He was not that boy anymore. No fight left and all that. He waited for the other man to say whatever he wanted, unnaturally calm again.

Probably sensing the resignation somehow, Black made a gesture for Severus to follow him around.

"This space in the back is where we repair the broken toys. We have a one year policy when it comes to guarantee you see, it's one of the pillars of the shop's success. Are you any good in Charms, then?"

"I… I've never repaired toys before," was Severus's honest answer. He suddenly felt like he was quite out of his depth and his lack of qualification was staring him in the eye for the first time.

"Don't worry about that, I can show you the basics; you're smart, I'm sure you will be alright."

Severus only nodded, his self-doubts not letting him note the compliment.

"Okay, so, another thing I need help with, particularly these days when I spend all day in the shop at the front, is inventory. It's a bit of a mess right now… and I need someone to come up with a better system to classify and count everything, so we can follow up better with all the orders and commands. I'm often unable to sell a lot of stuff right now because of shortages or hiccups in the line of supply, it's a mess. Do you think you could help?"

Severus took the time to think about it, about what sort of skills and experience could potentially help with Black's organizational issues.

"I… I'm quite good with managing stock – you need to when you do Potions a little seriously – and I think I could apply my own system to toys? I mean, toys' parts or ingredients, it should be the same, right?"

He sounded unsure of himself and that made him even more self-conscious. Why was he so nervous at being interviewed for a daft job by Black, of all people? It shouldn't matter, it shouldn't make him try to impress the other man, to sell himself and his skills as well as he could. It felt dirty somehow but Severus couldn't shut down his own desperation at the prospect of a steady job. He knew now how to silence his pride; he still didn't know if it was a strength or a weakness, however.

"Well, that sounds good then. Don't worry, I'm not expecting miracles right away, I will give you time to adapt."

Not knowing what to answer to that, Severus stayed silent, looking at his feet awkwardly. At least Black didn't sound too put out at his lack of proper qualification… maybe he would have the opportunity to show that he could be helpful? Severus barely dared to hope.

"Now, heh, I talked with Alastor and I'm aware that we will have to give you some adjustments, because of your health… I thought about it and, would twenty hours a week be manageable to start with?"

Not feeling like he was in any position to negotiate, Severus only nodded in agreement.

"Okay. And, I have to ask, you understand," Black's voice was so filled with awkwardness that Severus frowned and stopped looking at his feet, observing the other man's face in puzzlement, "what are your… er… limitations then?" he finally said, not looking Severus in the face.

Black had said the word 'limitations' as if it was made of fire and it was burning his tongue. Severus didn't understand what he was being asked about at first, he kept his eye on the other man, searching for any clue about it.

"You know," added Black, a little impatiently, "with your hand and… everything else, does it limit your casting ability? Can you use tools like anyone… er, normal," he said, and, probably seeing the look on Severus' face he rushed to add, "I don't mean to say that you're abnormal, of course! Well, maybe the nose, but we already knew that, right?"

"Are you trying to be funny, Black?" asked Severus, too dumbfounded to really get mad at the blubbering fool.

"No… I mean, yeah, I think I was, actually, but t'wasn't really good… I get it, I get it. Forget it, Snape. Just, tell me, what can you do and what can you not?"

Unexpectedly taking pity on the man, Severus just announced the facts dispassionately:

"My right hand can get stiff very quickly if I do repetitive work, and it hurts too much sometimes if I don't rest it." Severus wanted to scoff at the understatement but knew better than to be too dramatic. This felt like a crucial moment and he needed to navigate it carefully. He couldn't just hide everything as he couldn't be expected to work as well as anyone not suffering from his issues, but he needed to word everything in the most flattering way in order not to be dismissed on the spot. "I can cast alright. I need to take breaks, though, as my magic tends to deplete itself quickly. I… I'm not really the most efficient as things take me more time now… I can promise to do my best however, and… I'm sure I can get better at whatever you need me for?" he finished a little pleadingly. Better to leave the fits out for now, especially since he was sure that Black already knew…

He sounded pathetic and he hated himself for it. Pleading for a job from Sirius Black… a new low, surely.

Black seemed to be thinking about his answer, and Severus felt like he was left to hang in there, waiting to be accepted or rejected.

"I'm sure you will manage," was Black's non-committal answer at last, "now, Archie will be here in about –," Black casted a Tempus with a lazy wand gesture, "– fifteen minutes. He will get you started."

"Archie?"

Severus didn't know that there was another person working at the shop. He had prepared himself for showing his vulnerability to Black, but he felt dread again at the prospect of being mocked and used by someone else.

"He's the son of the Minister's secretary. The man is a very good customer – he runs the Painting Smiles charity and often works with us on big events, and his son needed a job for the Summer so, here we are! He's eighteen and a little too sure of himself but who isn't at that age, hey?"

Severus didn't think he had ever oozed the kind of confidence Black had always had about him but refrained from commenting.

"Okay," he replied.

"I will leave you to look at the register then," said Black in a wrapping-up tone, "all the paperwork and accounts are filed at this desk here, against the wall. Archie doesn't touch this stuff so you can maybe start by looking everything over to get acquainted with the shop's books?"

Severus nodded and, not wanting to appear even lazier than he had painted himself to be with his talks of needing breaks and everything, walked directly to the desk to get to it.

Archie revealed himself to not be as harmless as Black had painted him. Severus quickly realized that the teenager was a bit of a power hungry jerk and very aware of his privileged position in society as the son of someone important.

He sneered in Severus's face as soon as Black, who had introduced them to each other, left the backroom to go back to the shop to manage the customers. He just looked him from head to toe in a manner that ruffled Severus's feathers, and told him in a cold and insulting tone:

"Well, just don't go showing that face to the children, we have a business to maintain around here," before turning away to go search for something on the shelves.

Feeling hurt despite himself and angry about it, Severus didn't answer and returned to his current work. Deciphering Black's handwriting was not making his headache any better but Severus gritted his teeth, determined to show that he could be useful around here, and trying to keep the tear burning his eye from falling on his cheek, or worse, on the documents in front of him.

He should be used to the mockeries by now, the insults thrown at him and other people's sense of entertainment in getting a rise out of him. He discovered, once again, that he wasn't.