Rated T
Sorry about the long wait, but here is a reward in the form of the longest chapter yet. I haven't seen The Avengers in almost 2 months, so some parts from the movie represented in this chapter may be a bit inaccurate. But I hope that doesn't bother anybody. I loved the scene where Black Widow and Bruce Banner meet, but I only remember bits and pieces of it. With the addition of Snape in the background, I hope it all worked out fine.
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Chapter Three: Calcutta
Severus did not find it hard to follow the faint traces of his magic once he left the grimy city behind. Moving confidently along streets that grew poorer and more sparsely populated, he walked until it was well and truly dark. The trail of destruction stopped once he left the last smashed fence behind, and he was left with nothing to follow but the soft song of his tracing charm. It almost seemed to shimmer in the air like a silver thread if he focused hard enough. He could barely see it, when he stopped to catch his bearing and concentrated on the magical tracker he'd left on the green monster.
After fleeing the destruction and making sure that those muggles who happened to be near him had also fled, Severus had returned posthaste to the refugee shelter where he retrieved their few belongings. The bag of library books he had been carrying when the bus was attacked had been scuffed and torn, and the books inside were somewhat damaged, but he considered himself lucky to have escaped the disaster with only minor bruising and scrapes. The books were in rougher shape, but still legible, and that was all he cared about. Once he had his and Bruce's belongings, the city was still in so much uproar that he was able to sneak away from everything without very much trouble. He blended in with the rest of the fleeing muggles, and it only took some controlled bursts of wandless magic to keep the panicking throng from crushing or trampling him. Small repelling charms projected around himself when the press grew too great did the trick nicely. It was odd how he was falling back on his sneaking tactics when technically he was guilty of nothing. But slinking along unnoticed made him feel better, so he kept his head down and concentrated on being unremarkable and unsuspicious-looking.
When night fell and the sirens were left behind, along with the terrified riot, Severus concentrated on his magical tracing charm and confidently followed it in order to reunite with Bruce. He was under no illusions that his companion would be pleased with his manipulation, but he did not particularly care. He had lived most of his life surrounded by disapproval, dirty looks, and accusations, (most of them true) and he could live with Bruce's hurt indignation. If the man didn't want to be with him anymore, Severus could live with that as well, despite the uncomfortable twinge that thought sent through his chest. He would … miss … Bruce's company, but he would understand, of course. Bruce might see what he had done in the city bus as a betrayal. But he had been alone for years before he met the doctor. He would be fine if Bruce chose to go their separate ways.
Sobered by that thought, he almost missed the cluster of rocks where his tracking charm was leading him. Severus turned off his straight path through the veldt and began crawling over boulders and scrambling around rocks in an undignified manner. It was dreadfully dark tonight, with the wind rising and a storm possibly blowing in. Clouds scudded across the stars and the fingernail of a moon didn't give off much light. Grumbling to himself, Severus paused to conjure a ball of bluebell flames in his hand. Lily had invented the useful charm during the first war. The flames gave off warmth and light, but they didn't burn flesh. Severus could recall Lupin using these flames once or twice during his stint as a Defense Professor. The dungeons of Hogwarts were notoriously dark and difficult to navigate in.
Armed with a wavering light unaffected by the gusts of wind, Severus picked his way carefully into the rocks. "Bruce?" he called briefly. His voice was swallowed by the wind and fell on deaf stones. He forged onward silently, guided by the tendril of magic connecting him to his companion. The thread of magic led him to the yawning opening of a dark cave, and he hesitated cautiously before stepping in. Gory and disturbing images of giant African snakes or hibernating lions crept into his head before he sternly banished them as he continued deeper into the cave. He was a grown man, and he wasn't afraid of the dark. He was merely being … careful.
It was so dark, and the blue flames he held so feeble, that he was on top of Bruce before he realized it. The man was asleep, sprawled on his side in the dirt. Severus sighed and knelt next to him, feeling annoyed that he wasn't more irritated with his self-imposed babysitting duty. He quickly draped a blanket over Bruce, left his bag beside him with fresh clothes folded on top, and took out his own bedroll. Once he settled down beside Bruce, he extinguished his bluebell flames and listened to the wind outside the cave until he fell asleep.
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It was pitch dark when Severus was startled awake by the harsh rasp of the zipper on a muggle bag. He jerked upright with a gasp and conjured a brilliant lumos to be able to see his enemies before he could stop himself. He realized his mistake when Bruce yelped at the harsh white light blinding him, and Severus could see the man's shocked expression from where he was peeking out from behind his arms. Severus winced and toned the light down a bit, realizing that he was holding a floating globe of white light. Great.
"What the blazing …?" Bruce muttered, blinking and lowering his hands from his face. "How in the world …?"
"My apologies," Severus interrupted stiffly. "You startled me."
"Is that …? Is that real? You … you made ... that thing ... It's glowing."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Severus snapped. "But unless you have a torch in that bag of yours, we'll have to make do with this." He flicked his hand and the ball of light left his hand in a lazy swoop before it hovered just above the two of them.
Bruce sat up, peering at him in the light. "How are you doing that?"
Severus smirked. "Magic," he retorted.
Bruce frowned at him and his gaze flicked back to the hovering glowing ball. He hadn't finished buttoning his shirt, and apparently he'd simply forgotten about it. "Magic?" he repeated, deadpan. "So you're a wizard or something?"
"Yes," Severus replied simply, fighting the urge to laugh.
"Ha, ha," Bruce snorted. "Fine, keep your secrets. Not like I care anyway." He returned his attention to his shirt and buttoned it up, studiously ignoring Severus and doing a fair imitation of a wounded puppy.
Severus sighed and looked down at his trembling fists. Despite the fact that Lumos was a very simple charm to do wandlessly, he felt strangely shaky after using such a small spell. It was one of the first ones he had managed to do after escaping England. But he didn't use it unless he absolutely had to, since conjuring floating balls of light would be difficult to explain. He had exposed Bruce to magic before, but they were always things that Bruce could ignore or explain away. This … this was more obvious. And it was apparent that Bruce thought his magic light-ball had a scientific explanation.
"Are you, er ... completely human?" Bruce suddenly asked.
Startled, Severus looked up from his hands to the familiar face of his companion. The man was frowning thoughtfully at him, not regarding him as a freak or monster. Though, it would be rather hypocritical of Bruce if he had been, Severus thought.
"I'm human," Severus replied in a clipped tone. He added, a bit tongue in cheek, "I'm as human as you are."
Bruce frowned. "I'm not human … not anymore," he muttered, and then threw Severus a glare. "I can't believe you did that to me."
"I'm not sure what you are speaking of," Severus retorted. "If you are referring to the incident in the city, I did what needed to be done."
"Well …" Bruce growled with a tight jaw. "You know how I feel about … that."
"I do, and I believe your self-pity is misplaced."
"Self-pity?" Bruce exploded, his voice deepening and his face seeming to flush green in the lumos light. Severus scrambled out of his bedroll and beckoned his light closer to himself in unconscious self-defense as he pressed against the cave wall. To his relief, Bruce backed off and rubbed his hands over his face, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
"Sorry," Bruce muttered. "But you don't understand … I don't hate the Other Guy because of some stupid self-hate or something. I just … I'll hurt innocent people. I can't afford to let him loose. Ever."
"Explain," Severus ordered, feeling his own magic calming down after his scare. "Surely you have some reason, some former experience that justifies such a fear."
"I destroyed Harlem, alright! I've destroyed other places too! I didn't go after the regular people on purpose, but they got hurt anyway! Every time I lose control, people get hurt. Killed! Do you have any idea what that's like? I'm not in control, but I end up killing people and destroying their homes and livelihoods!"
For several minutes, the two of them glared at one another. Severus thought back to all of the crimes he himself had committed, some in the name of the Greater Good, and some not. Who was Bruce to have a monopoly on guilt? Severus knew he had more than enough for the both of them.
"I have hurt many people in my life," Severus finally gritted out. "I have injured, tortured, killed … And every one of them was my own fault. I deliberately chose to harm them. Do you not think that is worse?"
Bruce stopped short, staring at him in some kind of stunned horror. "You … you what?"
"I am a cold-blooded killer," Severus said calmly, barely flicking his hand at the floating lumos so the light wasn't obscuring Bruce's expressions.
The other man slowly shook his head and set his jaw stubbornly. "No," he said quietly. "That … that's not …"
"I am a hundred times worse than you," Severus snarled. "You have no control over your beast. I, however, am a beast. I have killed for petty reasons, and sometimes no real reason at all. Stop thinking of yourself as a monster, Bruce, when the true monster is before you now."
"You're not a monster," Bruce protested. "You've killed people in your past, sure. But that's not who you are. I've … seen you working. I've been with you for months. You're compassionate, and you help people, you don't hurt them …"
"And what I did to you in the city?" Severus demanded. "I manipulated you against your wishes to save my own skin."
"Well, you were worried about the people in the bus too, I suppose …"
"I did not care one whit for those people."
"Yeah, you did. You must've."
"I did not."
"Oh, come on!" Bruce yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "I've been with you for months, okay? You love to act all business-like and all; like you don't care about these people beyond a 'professional interest' whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. But I know you care! What about that pregnant girl a couple months back, remember her? She knocked on our door looking for help, and you're the one who took her in, helped her see that her baby was worth keeping!"
"I simply didn't want more blood on my hands. I have killed enough innocents without being responsible for the life of an unborn."
"And then there was that little boy who got gangrene on his leg, remember? You ended up seeing him like ten, twenty times, and you were always so gentle and understanding with him, even when he was scared you'd have to cut his leg off, remember?"
"There was no reason to exacerbate his fears by being cruel."
"Oh, shut up!" Bruce roared, the green flush darkening his neck. "You act like you don't care, but you do! Why in the world do you keep following me around, helping me? I was just fine before I found you, and you know it! There's nothing keeping you with me! You do care, but I have no idea why you're so scared to admit that!"
"I …" Severus trailed off, at a loss for words. He no longer had any excuses that didn't sound foolish and flimsy. With a sigh, he slumped over and rubbed his face in frustration. Bruce was stubborn. He'd give him that. He didn't see any reason to keep fighting when Bruce could see the obvious anyway.
"When we lose patients, you're more devastated than me," Bruce added more calmly. "You act like every person we treat is … precious. Bad people don't value human life. You do. And you probably care even more than you would want to admit."
"Very well; I care," Severus muttered reluctantly. "I care to such a degree that it is … foolish. But that does not change who I am … what I've done."
"So maybe you've done bad things in your life. But don't you dare tell me you're some kind of monster. You're a good person."
"Well, so are you," Severus snorted. "This is ridiculous. The two of us are so pathetic we are arguing over who is the real monster when clearly, none of us are."
"I am a monster! You see what I am, what I do!"
"I am a dark wizard!" Severus shouted, his lumos light blazing stronger with his emotions. "I served a maniacal Dark Lord during two wars, and at the end, I sent a teenage boy to his death because of some idiotic prophecy! I staged my own death and fled justice. I am a criminal on the run, Bruce. Stop thinking of me as some sort of saint. Because … I can do worse things to people than drop a building on their heads. My magic can cause pain like you cannot imagine."
Bruce stared at Severus Snape, finally at a loss for words. Severus dimmed his light until they were left in the dark, and conjured some more bluebell flames in his hands. He built it bigger than he had before and cupped it in both hands, realizing that he was cold. For long minutes, Severus sat against the rock wall of the cave, listening to the wind and rain outside, staring into the flickering blue flames in his hands, and wondering whether Bruce would leave him now. The thought filled him with a peculiar kind of pain. When had their conversation turned into a contest to see which of them was the worst monster? He shouldn't have blurted all that information out. Was he a spy or not? Didn't he have experience hiding and lying? Why had he broken the Statute of Secrecy like that? Well … technically he hadn't really. Bruce might not believe him. He was a man of science, who owed his own unique powers to radiation, not magic. But he wasn't saying anything right now.
Severus poured a bit more power into his flames and looked up, peering through the eerie dancing light for Bruce. He found that the other man was sitting rather close, which was startling because he hadn't heard Bruce move at all.
"You move like a cat sometimes, you know that?" Severus pointed out, his voice more hoarse than usual.
"You're a real wizard?" Bruce asked softly, nothing but awe and wonder in his voice.
"A dark wizard," Severus corrected. "My skill set lies in the dark arts."
"Well … You're not a dark wizard anymore, right? You left all that …"
"Once a dark wizard, always a dark wizard," Severus retorted mildly, shifting so Bruce could share the warmth of the blue flames. "There is no leaving the dark arts," he explained. "They leave their mark upon your soul. Killing … especially with dark magic, it cements one's tether to the darkness. I have used the dark arts to kill; thus, I am bound to it."
"That can't be totally true," Bruce protested. "If you were really bound to this darkness, you wouldn't be capable of being good, right?"
"…Being a dark wizard does not mean that all one's innate goodness is stripped away," Severus admitted. "But I have never been a good person. As a child, I was a bigot with a nasty temper who chased away my one friend with my own cruelty. As an adult, I was a Professor at a boarding school … the most feared and hated teacher there. I was a cruel, vindictive, petty bully. Take away my affiliation with the dark arts and you still have a person who couldn't be called 'good' by any stretch of the word."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Bruce argued patiently. "Yeah, you've got a temper, you can be cutting and sarcastic, you're ruthless when you need to be … I haven't forgotten what happened in that first village, you know. I saw you stab that guy you were fighting with. But … you've also got a lot of good qualities, and those are what made me like you. If you did terrible things when you were younger … you've changed. You're making things right."
"Attempting to," Severus muttered. "Look, I did not anticipate becoming this close to another human being ever again. I meant to do penance for what remains of my life without anyone knowing who I once was."
"But that doesn't change anything," Bruce said firmly. "I've seen you in public, and in private. You're not that person anymore, if you ever were. I think you're exaggerating. Or there's something about your wizard war that you're not telling me."
"I was a double agent for some of the first war … and all of the second," Severus admitted, feeling too tired to go on detailing his crimes in some bizarre attempt to gain the other man's disgust. "To gain the trust of the Dark Lord for the second time, I performed some … unspeakable evils … to win back his good graces. I even … I killed my one friend … and mentor."
"I'm … sorry," Bruce murmured awkwardly.
"Don't be," Severus snapped wearily. "I made my own choices."
"Yeah, but a double agent doesn't really have a lot of freedom, do they?" the other man said thoughtfully. "They're pulled between two masters, with the threat of death from both sides. It can't have been an easy tightrope to walk, what with a Dark Lord on one side and whoever your general was on the other."
"My … friend," Severus muttered hoarsely. "The one I killed. He was the leader of 'the light'."
"Oh …" Bruce said, sounding pained. "So … the 'Dark Lord' guy won? Is that why you ran?"
"No, the 'light' won," Severus sighed, thumping his head against the rocky wall. "The boy I sent to his death … he didn't die. Or perhaps he didn't stay dead. I don't know. He defeated the Dark Lord and then wasted his time making certain my corpse received a hero's burial. As you say, I would have faced life in prison or an unspeakable death at the hands of the vindictive victors if I had stayed alive. So I left."
"Wow," Bruce whispered. "That's just … wow."
"So why are you still here?" the wizard demanded. "I just informed you of the worst crimes of my life and you aren't shying away from me yet. I could kill you with my magic. I could torture you to death without ever touching you. What is your problem?"
"I know you won't," Bruce said simply. "Whatever you're trying to convince me of … doesn't change the fact that you're determined to put the past behind you and really live for others. Bad people don't do that."
"You're ridiculous," Severus groaned. He shut his eyes and shook his head in exhaustion. "Maudlin Gryffindor," he muttered.
"Maudlin what?" Bruce repeated in a puzzled tone. "You always call me that when I'm being particularly annoying, and right. So … what's a 'Gryffindor'?"
Severus hesitated, but he figured he had told Bruce a lot already. He may as well keep going. Who was Bruce going to tell, anyway? "In the school where I taught, the students are sorted into four houses. Gryffindor is the house of the foolish, brave, chivalrous, bold, and brainless. In my own opinion, of course. Sometimes, rushing out first to greet an enemy might be brave, but it is also foolish."
"Huh," Bruce snorted, sounding amused. "So you think I'm brave?"
"Occasionally so," Severus grunted. "You sometimes act like a Gryffindor … or a Hufflepuff. They value loyalty and hard work above everything, and they do not desire praise. Gryffindors, on the other hand, tend to be arrogant and they like large shows."
"Well, I can't deny I like big shows, but not for me. It's just … what house were you in? Did you attend that school?"
"I am a Slytherin, from the house of cunning and stealth. Most people equate 'Slytherin' with 'dark wizard', so it is little surprise I followed that path in my youth."
"Well, I guess this explains a little bit about why you're so odd," Bruce pointed out cheerfully. "So what's with the dark colors? You never wear anything lighter than dark gray. Is that some kind of wizard protocol I don't know about?"
"Personal preference."
"Doesn't the black get hot under the sun?"
Severus hesitated. "I … use magic to keep myself cool."
"What? That's incredible! How does it work? Were you born with it?"
"Magic is not equated with science," Severus objected in his lecturing tone. "I was born with ability, yes, but not all children of witches and wizards inherit magic. And occasionally, children with perfectly ordinary parents have a child with magic. You either have it, or you do not. Some people have larger magical cores than others, which makes them more powerful. I am a bit higher on the spectrum, I suppose, though I don't believe I am as powerful as at least two Lord-level wizards I knew."
"Let me guess," Bruce said wryly. "The 'Dark Lord' guy and your friend the 'light' general?"
Severus nodded.
"But they're both dead now."
"Indeed."
"So … you're like the most powerful wizard around right now?"
"No, I am not," Severus muttered. "The … boy, the one I was telling you about … he is most certainly more powerful than I. He would be a man now, and a very powerful wizard."
"Oh, well … that's … amazing." Bruce was quiet for a while, probably reflecting on what Severus had told him.
Severus, for his part, stayed quiet as well, staring into his flames and hearing again the voices of his past. It had been a long time since he had thought of them: Albus, Minerva, Pomona, Poppy … the dunderheaded students, Potter and his golden trio … the Dark Lord, Lucius, Draco … Did he miss them? In a manner of speaking, he supposed he missed the Malfoys. They had been his friends since he was in school. Draco was his godson. Where was the boy now? Had he escaped being sent to Azkaban? Severus shifted his flames to one hand and absently rubbed his left forearm. The Dark Mark was still there under his sleeve. It had not faded to grayish lines like an old scar the way it had after the Dark Lord's first defeat. It was not quite as prominent as it had been during the second war either. It no longer pained him, nor could he sense malevolent magic in it anymore. It looked like an ordinary muggle tattoo. He was careful not to let anyone see it, despite the fact that normal people would not see any significance to the mark. They would just see it as an interesting tattoo. But the sight of the black skull and snake on his arm still filled him with loathing and shame. It was a symbol of his life's greatest mistake, and represented twenty wasted years of misery.
He didn't realize he was doing it until he was already rolling the sleeve back, having unbuttoned the cuffs. Bruce watched him silently, and Severus slowly rolled up his sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark to another human being for the first time since the war. Bruce stared at it uncomprehendingly, and finally looked up at him with a quizzical expression on his face.
"This is the Dark Mark," Severus explained quietly. He ran his fingers over the black ink. Even after all these years, he still marveled that he could do so without feeling the jolts of painful dark magic, begging him to alert his master or summon his fellow Death Eaters.
"The … dark mark?" Bruce repeated slowly. "Is that … what? The mark of a dark wizard? Is it some sort of … magic tattoo?"
"Not quite so simple," Severus retorted, though without malice. "The Dark Lord I chose to follow marked his favoured ones with this symbol. They were called Death Eaters." Bruce snorted before he guffawed. Severus scowled at the man as he laughed. "This is quite serious, Bruce. Do pay attention!"
"Death Eaters? So what did you call your Dark Lord? The Death Muncher?"
"Will you stop laughing?" Severus demanded, feeling irritated that a muggle was making light of the most horrible dark lord of the century. "Do you have any idea what these Death Eaters were capable of, despite their regrettable name?"
Bruce sobered up and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sev, I really am. It's just … I thought you said you followed a Dark Lord, not a teenage gang."
"He was a deranged psychopathic murderer," Severus muttered, perhaps realizing for the first time how childish the name was. "And yes, it was nothing but a gang of teenagers at first. But when he returned, his followers were older and he was even more insane. His greatest fear was death, hence the name of his followers."
"I eat Death for breakfast?"
"…I suppose so."
"You must've been young when you decided to follow this Dark Lord guy," Bruce hummed thoughtfully. "Young people do stupid things. You know better now. Why do you still think you need to punish yourself for it?"
"Why do you feel the need to punish yourself for things you are not responsible for?" Severus threw back. "I chose this mark. You did not choose to play host to another being, or whatever it is that takes control of you. I chose to follow a psychopath. You do not condone your Other Self, and attempt to control yourself so as not to release him. But can you not see that if your life or the lives of others are in danger, it is perfectly acceptable to unleash your true strength?"
"Okay, I get your point. But I can't help but feel our situations are pretty different."
"So they are," Severus admitted, running his thumb over the snake on his arm again. "But we both bear the marks of our mistakes." He pulled his sleeve down and extinguished the blue flames in his palm. "We should rest for what remains of the night. I imagine we should get far away from here before there is a government investigation of today's … or rather, yesterday's, incident."
"Maybe we have overstayed our welcome here in Africa," Bruce murmured, moving back to his own blanket and sleeping bag as best he could in the dark. "This is the third time I've transformed here."
"I'm open to suggestions," Severus replied, lying back down in his bedroll.
"I've been thinking a whole lot about Mother Teresa lately. Heard of her?"
"The name is … familiar. I believe her death made the news, back in … was it 1998 or 1999?"
"Somewhere around there," Bruce agreed. "Anyway, she worked with the really dirt poor, the ones nobody cared about and nobody noticed. In Calcutta."
"That … is in India, a whole hemisphere away," Severus replied slowly. "We would need money to get that far…"
"Yeah, true," Bruce sighed in disappointment. "But little by little, we can make our way there, right?"
"I have money … and my magic can be used to convince certain people to let us through if we need to."
"Like a Jedi mind trick?" Bruce chuckled. "You know, I thought it was just your silver tongue and my honest face that got us through the last border patrol. But you used some kind of magic on them, didn't you?"
Severus smirked in the dark. "As your people say: 'no comment'."
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Ever since arriving by boat in one of India's less-savory ports and making their way inland, Severus and Bruce moved slowly through the city of Calcutta as the year marched on. They did not stay very long in one place or another, and thanks to Bruce's determination to apply himself to the occlumency techniques Severus was teaching him, there were no more incidents involving the Other Guy.
Before they realized how much time had passed, it had been a whole year without an incident. Severus thought to celebrate the anniversary of Bruce's last transformation with a treat, but he wasn't sure what. Living among the untouchables of Calcutta's poorest-of-the-poor, you were lucky if you found some food that hadn't been gnawed on by someone else first, let alone treats like alcohol or decent food. Severus occasionally ventured into the better parts of the city, armed with gold and his pistol, to do some shopping. It was difficult to buy anything though, because invariably, they would end up giving away most of what they had. So Severus and Bruce simply lived mostly how their dirt-poor neighbors lived. They taught about basic hygiene and helped the locals to be able to take care of themselves. But their main focus was in adapting local medicine to help cure illnesses and fight malnutrition.
Severus always had a brewing lab in their hut now, since he had found, (to his delight) a magical market in Calcutta's bazaar. Apparently, India's Statute of Secrecy was a bit different than most countries', because he could see wizarding culture almost anywhere, and the local muggles didn't seem to notice, or care. It was useful then, that he could wrap himself in a burnoose to keep his face hidden and venture down to the markets, paying with goblin gold to procure a couple of sturdy cauldrons, some scales, knives, cutting boards, and ingredients. His experiments helped the locals, and they helped Severus' mood too. Sometimes when the nightmares grew worse, Bruce could find him in the cramped little lab they'd created, chopping, dicing, stirring, and brooding. He knew to leave Severus alone when he was like that.
Bruce was fascinated by the magical world, the few times Severus had allowed him to come along on his supply runs. He was eager to help Severus brew potions, and after some childish nagging and pleading, Severus began to instruct him in the subtle art of Potion-making. Since Bruce was a muggle through and through, he really wouldn't be able to ever brew without Severus there, lending his latent magic to the process. But with the Potions Master looking over his shoulder, Bruce was able to brew simple Fever Reducers, Infection Brews, and Pepper-Ups for their work among the sick and miserable. He was a good pupil, and his obvious enthusiasm for the subject made Severus feel sometimes the way he had when he was teaching NEWT students. He sometimes enjoyed teaching, when his instructions were heeded, that is. Bruce didn't seem to mind his brusque manner, and simply laughed at his insults by now.
After their confrontation over who-is-the-worst-monster-of-the-two-of-us, they didn't talk much about what they had discussed that night. Severus was a dark wizard who was supposed to be dead, Bruce was a shape-shifting rage monster hiding from government agencies, and neither of them judged the other. Bruce counted on Severus to help him keep his cool in stressful situations, and Severus appreciated having Bruce there as an assistant and a conversationalist. He learned a good deal about modern muggle technology, and in return taught Bruce what he could about wizards and potions. To say Bruce was impressed by Severus' Mastery in Potions, was an understatement. Severus' knowledge of potions translated well to chemistry and other muggle sciences, and Bruce was an eager teacher. Learning from one another, working side-by-side among the poorest and most miserable people in the world, and both attempting to stay hidden from the governments of their respective worlds, Severus and Bruce were forming a strangely powerful friendship. It had been years since either of them had trusted anyone to the degree that they trusted one another, but slowly, it was happening. They were both reticent individuals. When they did talk about something other than science or potions or the local sickness currently sweeping through the slums, it was somehow profound.
"Did you ever love someone?" Bruce asked one evening while they were preparing potion ingredients together. Severus was attempting to make an extra-strength calming draught that could be absorbed through the skin, just in case the Green One broke free again. There wasn't much of a chance of getting him to drink it, after all.
"What kind of a question is that?" Severus snapped, but it was a somewhat good-natured snap, considering his usual mood.
"I had a girlfriend once," Bruce pointed out softly. "Today's her birthday."
Severus snorted and placed some saffron strands on his cutting board. "So, what do you expect me to do about it?"
"Maybe tell me who your first crush was?"
"Don't be absurd. I've told you that I was always a dungeon bat with no friends. Do I look like someone who would waste time on romance?"
Bruce chuckled easily. "Nice try, Sev," he bantered. "But seriously, I know you've got a heart, however cold and rusty. Anybody who can feel guilt or compassion can feel love, and no warm-blooded male goes through life without noticing at least some girl. So come on. Humor me."
Severus sighed and sprinkled the minced saffron into the cauldron, watching as the bubbling brew turned mustard yellow. "I am not going to get a moment's peace until I tell you something, am I?"
"No," Bruce grinned, looking up from the bowl where he was crushing chamomile flowers with a stone pestle. "So who was she? How old were you? What was she like?"
"She was a neighbour," Severus muttered through clenched teeth, briskly stirring the potion in even strokes. He hated talking about her, but he knew by now that Bruce would not give up until he had something, and by that time, Severus might be so angry that he would blurt out something he didn't mean to say. So he gave in. "I was eight, she was the same age. I saw her on a swing at the park. I knew I loved her."
"Aw, that's sweet," Bruce said encouragingly. "So what happened to her? Did you ever ask her out when you were older?"
"She married someone else and got killed. Are you quite finished mangling those chamomile blossoms?"
"What? You can't just end the story like that!"
Severus whisked the bowl of crushed flowers away from Bruce and grumbled as he crushed them a bit finer. "Honestly, I showed you how to crush these properly. Can you not see how unevenly they've been reduced?"
"Sev, come on," Bruce said sternly, grabbing his wrist. "What's the problem?"
"The problem, is that I do not wish to speak of love, or girlfriends, or matters of the heart!" Severus hissed, jerking away from Bruce. "You pester me until I break and tell you things I do not wish known, so I attempt to humour you and give you the information you are so desperate to know! But my life is filled with tragedy and agony and I do not wish to remember any of it."
Bruce stared at him, looking strangely hurt. "I know, Severus," he said quietly. "Why do you think I pester you until you talk? It helps. I know it hurts, but it helps … things to heal."
"Not for me." Severus returned to his potion and added pinches of chamomile flowers until the potion turned a lighter yellow.
"How long has it been since you talked about her?" Bruce asked quietly. "It's … obvious you still love her."
"I don't speak of her," Severus growled.
"Well, you should," Bruce grumbled back. "I for one want to know what she was like."
"Your incessant curiosity is going to get you killed one day."
"Not by you it won't."
"Do not underestimate the power of my wrath. Stop nosing into things you have no business knowing."
Bruce shrugged and stopped pestering. They finished the calming draught in silence and Severus tested it, dabbing a few drops on his exposed wrists and waiting for it to take effect, with Bruce standing by holding a diluting solution in case Severus' skin erupted in boils or something equally nasty. But after a few moments, Severus could feel his heartbeat slowing and his anger draining away. It worked. But with his anger gone, he was left with nothing but a vague shadow of grief and pain too deep for the calming solution to touch.
He slowly sat down on an old packing crate and put his head in his hands. He felt tired. And sad. Lily wouldn't stop dancing through his head. Her red hair, her green eyes … her son's eyes.
Look … at … me.
Severus let out a ragged breath and realized that his throat was thick with tears. Bruce was standing beside him, resting one of his square hands on the wizard's bony shoulder.
"Her name was Lily Evans," Severus whispered. "She was … beautiful. Red hair, green eyes, face like an angel …"
"She sounds pretty," Bruce murmured wistfully.
"I called her a … an unforgivable name in school. She left me. She married a boy I … hated. It was my fault she died. The … Dark Lord … killed her."
"I'm so sorry, Severus," Bruce whispered, sounding genuinely sad and sorry.
"I never stopped loving her," Severus whispered faintly. He straightened up and wiped his face, ashamed of the tears on his cheeks. "Her son … her son was the last person I spoke to … back home."
Bruce awkwardly shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "That must have been … hard," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I brought up those memories for you. I … I was just trying to help."
Severus sighed wearily and got up to bottle his new calming draught. "I know," he murmured simply.
They spoke no more about the past that night, even when Severus awoke, weeping from a nightmare. Bruce made tea from the cheap powder they kept in the hut, and they sat in silence beside the rusted washtub they kept their fire in, sipping from chipped stoneware mugs.
A~HP~V~HP~E~HP~N~HP~G~HP~E~HP~R~HP~S
It was not long after that when another sickness swept through the slums. Severus and Bruce were both kept busy with the victims of the plague, which seemed to be like a sort of flu. They slept little and ate less, mostly surviving on Severus' Pepper-Up and Nutrient Potions. The weak, malnourished poor fell like flies, and every day, one could see the rickety trucks that came to cart the dead away to be burned. Severus wondered if this was what it was like during the time of the Black Death.
It was late at night, and the two of them were caring for some people in a makeshift hospital. Severus was instructing one of the woman healers in giving doses of Fever Reducer and a draught he had invented to combat the lung inflammation in their patients. The deaths they were seeing were mostly because the illness settled in their lungs and caused pneumonia, essentially suffocating them to death. Severus had adapted one or two simple recipes he knew by heart and created something that was safe for adults and children, and above all, effective on muggles. Upstairs, Bruce was comforting a few people who had just lost family to the worst of the illness. Severus looked up as a local girl in a ragged, filthy dress raced past him and up the stairs, but dismissed it. She was likely looking for family members or hand-outs.
"Do you need me to repeat all that?" Severus asked the older woman. She had a grasp of English, and Severus still had difficulty assimilating the local languages. Hindi was a difficult language for him, but Bruce had mastered it without much trouble.
"No, I understand," the woman replied softly, taking the box of medicine from Severus. She bowed gratefully. "Thank you, thank you," she murmured. "These help much. Wise man, healer, master of herb-lore, we cannot thank you enough."
"Yes, you're welcome," Severus replied hastily, turning away in embarrassment and rummaging through his bag of medical supplies. "I trust that will be enough for now. Let me know if you need more, agreed?"
"We tell you if we need," the woman nodded. She turned away with the box and began talking rapidly in Hindi to the other woman who was helping her here.
Severus swung his bag onto his shoulder and stretched his aching back. He was ready to go back to the hut he and Bruce shared, back to grab a bite to eat and start brewing more of his anti-pneumonia potions. Bruce would be along when he was finished doing whatever it was he was doing. They had a system, and though they didn't speak much anymore, they communicated a great deal in gestures, and in their rhythmic schedule.
He stepped outside into the musty, heavy night air of India and took a deep breath that wasn't full of the stench of sickness and unwashed bodies. He was surprised when Bruce suddenly appeared next to him, holding his own bag and following the same ragged little girl that had darted past Severus a minute ago.
"Going home, Sev?" Bruce asked wearily.
"There's more brewing to be done," Severus replied. "Are you finished here?"
"Not yet, the girl says her father's ill," he nodded at the child standing a few feet away, nervously watching them and clutching a handful of dirty paper bills in her small hand.
Severus glanced at her, noting how nervous she seemed. She opened her mouth and babbled something, skipping away a few more steps.
"She says I need to hurry," Bruce said apologetically. "I'll come back to the house when I'm finished, alright?"
Severus sighed. "I may as well come with you. Someone needs to check the rest of the family, I suppose. I believe I have some more immune system boosting potions in here." He patted his bag.
Bruce shrugged. "Won't hurt, I guess."
Silently, they followed the small girl through the maze of the filthy slums. Beggars, drunks, and other unfortunates littered their path, but Severus and Bruce were skilled at avoiding them by now, and the girl skipped on ahead of them, seemingly without looking where she was going, but she didn't trip or slip.
The houses began to thin out and Severus felt odd. As if he was being watched. He kept glancing surreptitiously from side to side without giving any indication of his rising nerves. He marveled that Bruce couldn't sense it. His companion was sometimes even more paranoid than he was. The dark streets looked normal, at least for Calcutta. They had passed their own hut about two blocks back. They lived on the edge of the city for safety, just in case the potions lab exploded or something.
The house the girl was leading them toward, looking over her shoulder every few seconds to be sure they were coming, was far removed from the others; a rickety shack in the middle of a junkyard. Everything about the remote location, the lone lightbulb glowing behind the ragged curtains, and the sense of being watched screamed 'trap' to Severus. He grabbed his companion's arm to stop him as the girl darted into the house. Through the empty doorway, they saw the little girl jump up on a shelf at the far wall and disappear out through a window.
"This was a trap," Severus hissed.
Bruce sighed. "I know." He gently shook off Severus's hand and ducked the low lintel to enter the rickety building. Severus glared at his companion's back, glanced to the right and left, and followed, gripping his bag of medical supplies so tightly that his knuckles were white.
A young woman stood up from a chair at the back of the house. Her short hair was a brilliant red and her face was calm and intelligent, as well as quite attractive. She was dressed in leather combat gear and moved with the deadly grace of a dueling champion. Severus watched her suspiciously, despite knowing that she couldn't possibly be from the wizarding world. She was Bruce's enemy, not his … but he had cast his lot in with Bruce, and his companion's enemies were his own. He stopped in the doorway and casually leaned against the doorpost.
"Dr. Banner, you're a hard man to find," the young woman announced. Her voice was calm, and though she spoke with an excellent American accent, Severus' sharp ears caught the soft flavor of Eastern Europe in her inflections.
"I was under the impression that I was safe here," Bruce replied quietly. "I suppose you've got the place surrounded?"
"No," the woman replied easily. "It's just us."
Severus suppressed the urge to scoff. He could hear the soft sounds of boots on the dirt outside, just behind him. Though affecting nonchalance, his body was tensed as a spring, ready to fight, or to flee if the Green One decided to take control.
Bruce gave her a fake smile. "Right," he replied just as easily. He gestured at the window where the girl had disappeared. "Isn't she a little young for the cloak and dagger game?"
"No older than I was when I started," the woman retorted.
"What do you want?" Bruce asked, his soft voice suddenly firm.
"Natasha Romanoff," the woman replied. "I am an agent of SHIELD and I was sent to track you down."
Bruce frowned, a flash of temper rising in his eyes. "Of course, so Fury can put me in a glass cage?"
"No, nothing like that …"
"Stop lying to me!" Bruce thundered, slamming his palms down on the flimsy table between him and the woman. Quick as thought, Natasha Romanoff drew a pistol from her hip and stepped back, aiming between Bruce's eyes. Severus stepped forward, one hand slightly raised, his magic roaring inside him, but not visible. Not yet.
"Sorry," Bruce muttered. He raised his hands, which were visibly trembling. "I'm sorry. I'm good."
Natasha stared at him for several more seconds before she slowly re-holstered her weapon and turned to murmur into a communications device in her collar. "We're good here, stand down."
Bruce raised an eyebrow at Severus, who scowled and shook his head before finally lowering his hand. "Just us?" Bruce repeated, with a sardonic look in the young woman's direction.
"It was just a precaution," the woman replied unapologetically. "It's been over a year since your last incident. What's your secret? Yoga?"
Bruce smirked at Severus. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he replied. "But seriously, what did you track me all the way here for? There's a reason I'm here …"
"Wasting your potential," Natasha interrupted. "You're one of the most brilliant physicists in the world, and here you are, playing Mother Teresa."
"It's safe," Bruce shrugged.
"I'm here to ask you to come back. Fury's putting together a team."
"Right," Bruce scoffed. He folded his arms. "Well, I've had enough of people trying to weaponize the Hulk."
The woman stepped forward and set a device down on the flimsy table. "This isn't about the Hulk," she said quietly. "We need your help, and your expertise in Gamma Radiation." She activated the device, and an image appeared in the air over it. Severus leaned forward, despite himself, and peered at the glowing blue cube and the meaningless jumble of numbers. Bruce pulled out his reading glasses and perched them on his nose as he leaned in, frowning as he examined the data. "This is the Tesseract," Natasha explained. "It's been stolen from a top secret Government installation and we need you to help us locate it."
"Hmm, so it emits a faint gamma signature?" Bruce murmured, adjusting his glasses and peering at the image with interest. "Fascinating …"
"Why did you bring him?" the woman suddenly demanded, nodding at Severus. "You must have known this was a trap."
"I guessed when we were about halfway here," Bruce shrugged absently. "Some of your guys aren't the most subtle. But I trust him with my life. Of course I brought him."
Natasha's lips compressed just the least bit to show her annoyance. "We know you've been traveling with him for nearly two years now. But who is he?"
"You guys are the secret agents," Bruce muttered, totally engrossed in the hologram on the table. "Figure it out."
"'He' is standing right here," Severus sneered, folding his arms. "Why don't you ask 'him'?"
"Fine," Natasha arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "Who are you?"
Severus glared at her, wondering if it would be wise to reply. He did have records in the muggle world, but he couldn't be sure if they declared him dead or not. If he gave a fake name, he was reasonably certain that these 'secret agents' would discover it. However, he needed some time to consider what to tell them if they started asking awkward questions. So he may as well give the woman something.
"Salazar Slytherin," he replied coolly.
The expression on the woman's face did not change, and Bruce didn't even blink, absorbed as he was in studying the glowing cube floating in front of him.
"I see," Natasha Romanoff said. "What is your business with Dr. Banner?"
"We are … friends."
Bruce did twitch at that. Though he didn't take his attention from the image of the Tesseract, his mouth curved into a slight smile and Severus scowled at him, silently warning him not to read too much into the innocuous statement. He had avoided calling Bruce a friend so far, but it seemed to be the best thing to say at the moment.
The red-haired woman narrowed her eyes minutely. "I'm afraid you cannot come with us."
"I'm afraid you'll have some trouble in stopping me," Severus retorted.
"He may not be able to track gamma radiation, but he's a doctor too," Bruce suddenly announced, pulling his gaze away from the device's floating images. "Plus … the Other Guy needs him around."
Severus gave Bruce a glare. But he could understand why they should be reluctant about the existence of the calming draught he had invented.
"Oh?" Natasha's gaze suddenly turned sharp. "You are able to control the Hulk?"
"I have no power over the Green Troll," Severus replied calmly. "But there is a chance that I can … pacify him should the need arise."
"How?"
Severus scowled at her. "That is our business."
"I cannot bring an unknown into the equation here," Natasha protested calmly. "If you don't give me a good reason to take you along, you'll stay here."
"He's coming," Bruce interrupted, his normally calm tone suddenly icy. "Or I'm not."
The woman sighed. "You're making things very complicated for me, you know that?"
"We didn't ask you to come here and bother us," Bruce shrugged.
That seemed to settle the matter, at least as far as Bruce and Severus were concerned. They were barely allowed enough time to return to their hut to gather their belongings. Bruce was able to distract their armed escort long enough for Severus to pack his lab and potions equipment into his magically extended bag.
"Severus, hurry," Bruce hissed as he came into the back room. The Potions Master was practically done; he was simply wiping down their makeshift workspace. "What are you doing?"
"I will not leave my workspace a mess," Severus snapped. "Don't you know me yet?"
Bruce shrugged and looked around the drafty little space where they had spent so many peaceful, educational hours together. "Pity. I never thought I'd miss this awful place."
"Should we return, hopefully the rats won't have taken it over," Severus said, for lack of something productive to add. He wasn't all that attached to the hut where they had lived for the past four months, but if Bruce was, he wouldn't begrudge the man his sentimentality.
"We probably won't be coming back," Bruce murmured in a tone of regret.
Severus finished his cleaning and hung the rag from a wooden peg on the wall. "Do you anticipate trouble with these … people?" he asked quietly.
Bruce smiled sadly. "I don't trust them, if that's what you mean. The SHIELD folks … they're secretive, like most government organizations. I'm sure they've got other reasons for bringing me on board. I'm not the only physicist out there who can track gamma radiation."
"Then it is all the more imperative that I go with you," Severus grumbled, checking his bag for the two bottles of extra-strength topical calming draught. "Not that I wouldn't love to stay here fighting the flu all by myself …"
"I know what you mean."
"…They don't know who or what I am," Severus added in a soft tone. "Let's keep it that way, shall we?"
"Sure," Bruce chuckled. "Whatever you say … Salazar."
A~HP~V~HP~E~HP~N~HP~G~HP~E~HP~R~HP~S
Been reading a few Harry Potter/Avengers crossovers, mostly looking for different ways that other authors have done the movie scenes with the addition of HP characters. My personal favorite is one called "Cupboards and Cryogenics", and it features the Winter Soldier and a five year old Harry. It is seriously so very good. Go ahead and check it out from my favorites! Snape is in it, though not a main character, and I really liked how the author handled Severus Snape interacting/fighting with a super soldier.