Don't Touch Me
0o0o0o
Looking back, Severus would have no idea how he survived that first night after finding out Neasa had once been in love with Sirius Black.
Neasa had arrived back form dinner none the wiser to his inner turmoil and had cheerfully claimed a chair by the fire and picked up a novel. Severus had kept his head down brewing Pepperup Potions that Poppy hadn't asked for – he was so distracted he needed to get a book to double-check the ingredients. He secretly took a Sleeping Draught before bed.
The next few days each passed slower than the last – at every given opportunity Severus would mull obsessively over what he now knew. The initial hurt had been swept aside by a torrent of questions: did Neasa know Sirius was innocent? If she didn't and she found out, would she want to go back to him? In what possible world had their paths crossed? Sirius was an Auror in London in the eighties – Neasa had said several times she'd never been to Britain before. Why would she lie about that?
Maybe Neasa still thought Sirius to be a murderer – that would've broken her heart fifteen years ago, and perhaps she hadn't mentioned Sirius or London out of grief. But why still carry his photo? Had she known the Potters? Had she met Harry Potter as a baby? Did the Order of the Phoenix know about her?
None of it made any sense to Severus – he was desperately twisting theories around precious few facts and nothing added up. He also knew he couldn't question Neasa directly because that would mean revealing he knew where Sirius was hiding, and she might hand him in to the Ministry if she thought him guilty. However much Severus resented Sirius, the fact remained that he didn't deserve the Dementor's Kiss for something he didn't do.
But the biggest, most terrifying and most pressing question was: were Neasa and Sirius still in contact?
This question was on Severus's mind more than any other; every time he looked at Neasa, every time he kissed her he asked himself: did she still carry a torch for Sirius? Were they seeing each other behind his back? Did that explain why Sirius had been especially hostile at the recent Order meetings?
Through the next week as April rolled around these questions played over and over in his mind until he felt numb to them; but on the first Monday of the month an opportunity finally opened to question Neasa without giving Sirius away.
The Daily Prophet ran yet another article about the Ministry thinking Sirius had been sighted in London, and Severus made a show of folding the paper to the article and slapping it down on the coffee table when Neasa sat down with her morning coffee.
The paper caught her eye and she skimmed the article, but other than that she appeared uninterested. Severus was watching from the opposite armchair – the smell of coffee making him feel sick.
"Ministry's hopeless," he said without preamble.
"I'm sorry?" Neasa asked, not looking up.
"The Black story."
Neasa stilled. Her eyes were focused on the photo of Sirius holding his prisoners' identification card.
"The Ministry honestly thinks Black's helping the Dark Lord?" Severus sneered. "They haven't got a clue."
Neasa's expression remained unchanged, so Severus added: "I was at Hogwarts with Black."
"You were?" she asked quietly.
"Aren't you going to ask what that was like? Being at school with a future deranged murderer?"
Neasa slowly shook her head – "No, I wasn't – unless you want to tell me…"
Severus sighed. "He's just as much a Death Eater as Albus is – the Ministry don't know anything."
Neasa remained unresponsive, so he asked pointedly, "What do you think?"
"About Black? I… I don't know – the evidence points towards him being guilty – but… well, without a trial, we can't really tell…" she trailed off.
"I still remember when Black was accused of killing all those Muggles," Severus said. "That was quite the scandal – noble, upstanding Gryffindor Auror betrays his own friends to the Dark Lord. You know about the Potters?"
"Black allegedly betrayed their whereabouts–"
"Allegedly?"
"It was never proven," Neasa said quietly.
Severus leaned forward. "That information isn't public knowledge. How do you know?"
Neasa shrugged and shook her head simultaneously, and said, "Dumbledore told me–"
"Albus wouldn't gossip about that."
"I have to get to work–"
"Did you ever meet Black?" asked Severus.
Neasa finally looked up, her eyes full of surprise. In that moment Severus realised he would only get an answer using Legilimency – but then remembered the last time he'd done that to Neasa, and how long it had taken her to forgive him. He banished the thought immediately.
"Did I ever meet Sirius Black?" Neasa repeated – Severus nodded. "No – em – well – would I have remembered? – I don't know – I have to get to work. You have a class to teach."
She was lying. She was lying and Severus was powerless to get the truth.
Neasa looked at him for a moment longer, then collected some papers from the table and stood up. She slipped into a pair of heels and put her handbag over her shoulder, and said, "I'll see you at lunch."
"Your coffee," said Severus, his mouth very dry.
"My–?"
"Coffee."
He picked up the mug of coffee and walked over to Neasa.
"Thanks," she said quietly, accepting the mug.
After a second she put the papers under her arm and reached out to touch Severus's elbow.
"I don't know why Sirius Black is suddenly so interesting to you," she said, "but… I don't know anything, if that's what you're asking."
Then Neasa stepped closer and gently kissed his cheek. Not even her welcoming lavender scent brought him any comfort. What if Sirius knew the same scents? What if he'd bought her that perfume?
They left together for their respective offices, but as they walked down the corridor and past Neasa's door, she stopped and said, "Go on ahead – there's something I need to do."
Without waiting, she walked back to her rooms and pushed open the door – Severus pretended to continue walking, but when he heard the door close he turned back around and stopped in front of it, pressing his ear to the wood.
He heard nothing for a moment and began to worry Neasa would catch him, when he heard her calling, "Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"
She was using the Floo network. Severus only heard snatches of her half of the conversation:
"Remus! I need to talk to you … Tell Sirius … I need to see him … Severus knows something … Sirius, I think he knows about us – I don't know what or how – but he needs to be told … It's hurting the both of us to keep this secret."
0o0o0o
Although he'd eaten next to nothing all day, Severus still didn't feel up to forcing down any food at dinner, and when he'd had what he considered to be a suitable amount that would grant him leave from the staff table, he left.
He walked past the Gryffindor table, caught Potter's attention, and whispered to him: "Tonight's Occlumency lesson is off – I'm otherwise occupied."
Potter looked relieved first, and then confused, but Severus didn't stay to elaborate: out of the corner of his eye he could see Neasa leaving her chair and he didn't want to speak to her. He left the Great Hall at a fast pace, his black cloak billowing behind him, and made for the front doors.
When he was outside in the crisp twilight air he checked that no students were nearby, and then took off in unaided flight high above the castle and headed for Hogsmeade.
He landed in a whirl of black smoke just outside the village and walked the rest of the way to the Three Broomsticks – when he was finally inside the warm pub and in front of the bar, he ordered a small Firewhisky from Rosmerta.
"If anyone asks – I'm not here," he told her, putting a Galleon in her hand.
"Everything alright?" she asked.
Severus just took his glass and went to sit somewhere out of the way. He put the glass on a coaster, leant his chin on his palm and stared into his drink in silence.
One part of him wanted to sit and stare at this untouched whisky all night – one part wanted to cry – one part, the part that won in the end, wanted to confront Sirius.
The sun began to set and the sky darkened while Severus was sitting alone at the pub; when dusk finally settled, Neasa started searching the castle for him.
"He didn't say where he was going," she said to Professor McGonagall when she'd asked. "He left around six – when it was still light."
"Could he be in Hogsmeade?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Where else can he go?"
But Neasa had a pretty good idea of where Severus might go, if not to meet Voldemort and not to Hogsmeade. Professor McGonagall insisted on checking the little village anyway, so they went together to the Three Broomsticks and asked Madam Rosmerta.
"Haven't seen him," she replied, shaking her head.
Neasa brushd off a worried Professor McGonagall as fast as she could when they returned to Hogwarts, and then snuck out of the castle grounds to Disapparate to London.
She landed in a dark park in a rundown suburb and crossed the road, stopping at the kerb on the opposite side between houses eleven and thirteen. She thought and thought, Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Twelve Grimmauld Place, and slowly the house began to appear, pushing aside the two on either side of it.
She stepped forward and rang the doorbell; she could already hear the shrill cries of Sirius's mother's portrait from behind the door, catching only small phrases here and there – "FILTHY MUDBLOODS" was said once or twice, as well as "BRINGING SHAME UPON MY FAMILY'S NAME". Then there was a shout of "SHUT UP FOR ONCE!", followed by a scuffle, and finally the door was yanked open by an exasperated Sirius.
"How many times have I told you lot–" he began, and then stopped. He frowned at Neasa. "Róisín? What's happened?"
"Is Severus here?" Neasa asked without preamble.
"What would Snape be doing here?"
"He's not at Hogwarts – he's not in Hogsmeade – I can't find him," she said, wringing her hands.
"Why is that my problem?" asked Sirius bluntly.
"He knows, Sirius – he suspects."
"He knows nothing – he might think he knows something, but he doesn't. I'm not having this argument again."
Neasa heard footsteps coming down the stairs and she ducked out of sight; she heard Remus asking, "What's going on?" and she reappeared.
"Severus is missing," she said.
"Missing–?"
"Sulking somewhere, probably," Sirius said bitterly. Then to Neasa, "You should be at Hogwarts – Snape'll turn up eventually."
"Róisín – come in–" Remus began.
"Go back to Hogwarts," Sirius interrupted.
Neasa stepped over the threshold, now at eye-level with Sirius, their faces inches apart. After a brief stare-off, he stepped aside and let her in, closing the door quietly.
"The kitchen," he muttered, and led the way forward.
"I'll just finish painting the attic myself, then?" Remus asked after him.
"You do that," Sirius said vaguely, closing the kitchen door and turning to Neasa.
"I have to tell Severus – I should never have even thought about dating him and keeping this from him," she said angrily.
"Snape can look after himself," Sirius replied.
"Just because you think he's heartless and cold doesn't mean the rest of us do."
"The rest of you? You mean you and Dumbledore?"
"You've got the wrong idea about Severus – he's got feelings just like you do–!"
"And you would put Snape's feelings ahead of Harry's safety?" Sirius spat.
"I'm not doing that! I trust him – he wouldn't tell anyone!"
"Well it's not up to you, Róisín – I don't trust Snape!"
"What's the alternative?" Neasa shouted, losing her temper completely. She took a step closer. "Obliviate him so he never suspected anything?"
"If it would put you out of your misery!"
"You're… not serious," Neasa said, her voice falling as she stepped closer again, scrutinising Sirius's face for any hint of a joke. "You're exaggerating – I would never Obliviate Severus."
Sirius seemed to realise he'd gone too far, for he took a deep sigh and shook his head.
"I take it back – I'm just… really stressed at the moment."
"I know," Neasa said softly.
"Like I said to you at Christmas – I'm stuck here, I can't even protect my own godson, and then I hear about you and Snape and your relationship and–… I think about what we used to have, and... it rubs salt in the wound, Róisín."
There was so much anguish in his features – he pinched the bridge of his nose, and Neasa put her hand comfortingly on his arm.
"You have so much freedom," Sirius added, his voice thick. "What do you do with it all?"
Neasa didn't have many words of comfort – she certainly didn't have an answer – too much was on her mind.
She said, as kindly as she could, "I came here to talk about Severus. He needs to know."
Sirius stared into the middle-distance for a moment, then, seemingly awakening from his reverie, shook his head resolutely and said, "He doesn't need to know anything."
"What do I not need to know?"
Usually the sound of her lover's voice brought nothing but comfort to Neasa, but now – as she saw Severus standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his lips pursed thin, his hand surely clutching his wand under his robes, his eyes taking in the scene in front of him, every passing second bringing more and more pain to them – his harsh voice brought nothing but panic.
She released Sirius's shoulder in a heartbeat. The next moment, wands were drawn – Severus and Sirius eyed each other with glares fit to kill.
Neasa did the only thing she thought rational: she stepped in between them, now with two wands pointed at her neck. She was the only woman either man would listen to – she knew they would only stop fighting each other for her sake.
She faced Sirius.
"Lower – your – wand," she said.
"Get out of my way–!"
"Use that tone on her and I'll–!" Severus began.
"You'll what?" Sirius challenged.
Neasa looked at Severus. His eyes, his face, his features were a terrible mix of anger, hurt, confusion – everything she had never wanted to be the cause of.
She reached out, put her hand gently over his and pushed his arm down. His wand now pointed at her shoes – but he jerked his hand harshly away and hissed, "Don't touch me."
Then he vanished out of the kitchen in an angry whirl of black cloak.