Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**A look into the life of Sirius Black while he is on the run. The many years in Azkaban have taken a toll on the mind of the noble Gryffindor. He must pull himself together to support Harry, but with each day he feels more and more helpless. It is in the most unexpected place that Sirius finds peace. Eventual SB/SS Starts out a bit dark but it gets lighter and builds from there. **Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.K.s brilliant character**

It was useless. He knew that it was. For hours he sat in the center of the dirt floor and watched the sky transition from pale blue to black and back again. A small glass made of Ireland's finest crystal was clutched firmly in his hand. There was no doubt in his mind that the young couple picnicking in the forest was upset to find their spread missing when they returned from their romp in the woods, but such trivialities held no importance to the dismal man. The glass was covered in a thin layer of grime and wear could be seen where his fingers gripped unceasingly. Yet, when the sun was positioned just right, the crystal would sparkle and the shine would be almost blinding.

It reminded him of the boy's glasses. Cracked and filthy as they may be, they always seemed to gleam when they were on his face. They made him look like a boy; a boy who, one day, would save the world. He swirled the glass again and watched as brandy swished sloppily against the sides. The bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy lay forgotten at the lip of the cave, a constant stream of dark liquid dripping out of the neck. After he found himself too miserable to refill his cup he left the refilling bottle to rot and cast the enchantment on the cup instead. He really was useless.

Far below he heard the gentle trill of Buckbeak as he came in to land outside of the cave. The crunching of bones pierced through the silence of the forest, but within seconds the meal was over. With an unsated squawk the sound of claws breaking earth reached the mouth of the cave. The beast must be searching for the rest of his meal underground. The drunken man could picture the magnificent beast, gray flank glistening in the morning sun, strong feathered shoulders ripping the undergrowth to shred as sharp intelligent eyes pored over debris from below, searching for signs of movement. It was to this bird that he owed his freedom and his life. It was his only regret that he couldn't offer Buckbeak more. Just like with the boy, he found himself at a loss with shackled hands. There really was no hope for him.

Once again he found his glass emptying down his throat. Grimacing as the sting ran down through his core, he relished the flaw in his insensitivity that came with each sip. It was this feeling that drove him to keep guzzling the horrifyingly strong drink. He knew that he should stop; his brain had practically turned to mush. All that he could see through his drunken stupor was the boy. Harry_._

_ He watched small chubby hands reaching out from under what seemed to be miles of blankets to grasp his moustache. In the background he could hear James laugh as Lily scolded the young boy. "Now Harry, be a dear and let old Sirius's moustache go. But then again, it may be best for all of us if you could just make that ugly thing disappear." _His mouth twitched upwards involuntarily but he quickly sobered.

_The boy was now covered in blood. A deep gash in the form of a lightning bolt was etched into his forehead. His lips quivered softly as he stared with wide eyes at the destruction around him. Lily lay still across the crib and the boy reached out towards the locks of fiery red hair that were already starting to gray. Tears spilled out of the corner of those innocent green eyes and soon neither the man nor the boy could tell whose tears it was that streaked down their faces. Hagrid huffed up the stairs and burst into the room._

_ "I moved James ter the couch. Figured It'd be better than havin' them muggles steppin' all over 'im." The man simply nodded. The giant wizard shuffled over to Lily and gingerly lifted her from the crib. Clumsily he lowered her into the rocking chair and arranged her hair so that her straight locks fell gently over her shoulders._

_ "You were a good mum Lil. Harry…Harry loves yer," he chocked. Grubby hands reached out and pulled the child from the man's weak grip._

_ "Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—" the man uttered with a tortured look in his eyes. The giant met his eyes with regret. _

_"Dumbledore's orders; Harry is ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's." The man begged and he pleaded but in the end the wizard simply clutched the child under his large arms and ambled towards the door. _

_"At least take my bike then, I won't need it anymore…" The giant nodded his unruly head of hair and with a roar of the engine, he was gone. Now the man was left alone in a house filled with death. Color seemed to drain from the world. Soon everything was in black and white. A small stuffed rat was tucked lovingly next to a stag, a wolf, and a dog. The rat, the rat he could see in red; the deep scarlet red of blood. _

He watched himself scream in anguish and murder, yet his heart could no longer feel such strong emotion. He was foolish then. It was his idea to change the secret keeper to Peter. He was the one that should be dead. Those words, _Avada Kadavra, _they were so simple; with just two little words his anguish could be over. His lips began to move but nothing happened. No green light, no peace, nothing. He looked down and realized that instead of a wand, he was pointing a glassful of brandy at his chest. He arched his back sideways and stretched the tip of his fingers out towards his wand. With trembling hands he lifted it upwards, but was quickly struck with the image of another wand, much less damaged than his.

_Thin hands shook violently as the boy struggled against the sinking despair that tore at their souls. A thin wand the color of warm honey shot out tufts of blue from the tip. He was trying to produce a patronus. The boy was trying to save him, that bloody idiot. For a moment the man felt hope, but it was too late. As he peered under the dark hood of the dementor all he could see was sorrow and pain. It was all he could do to turn away and cast one last hopeless look at the boy who was now slowly being surrounded by a swarm of cloaked figures._

If Harry were to die that night, he would have killed himself. But then again, if Harry had died that night, he wouldn't have even gotten the chance put a wand to his head. The dementors would have devoured his soul and he would have been left as an empty shell.

The man suddenly laughed out loud. A harsh bark of a laugh which made his eyes glint in a crazed hysteria. What was so different from him now and from those who have been kissed? Oh, that's right, he could feel. He could feel every atom in his body slowly combust and wither to black. He could fill his heart being ripped apart. He could feel flesh separate from bone as they prepared to burrow into the ground. His body was slowly decaying as if even the very essence that was Sirius Black was proving to him that he was useless.

Yes, he, Sirius Black, so full of Griffindor spirit and boundless potential was now sitting in a dank cave in the middle of the forbidden forest, slowly drinking his way into oblivion. He picked up the glass once again and smiled sloppily at the brandy.

"You, my friend, are one devious little son of a bitch. You just sit there all happy and you get what you want. You get to meander down our unsuspecting throats and turn us into your little slaves. Yes, you bring us mere mortals to our wits end but you, no there's no way to beat you. Truly ingenious, HA!" He babbled a bit longer, pouring the dark liquid down his gullet through it all. Soon, his dialogue could no longer be deciphered from the fits of crazed laughter and all that was left of the once noble man was a quivering ball of nerves twitching uncontrollably on the cave floor.

"I never thought I would live to see the day when the mind of a Black would deteriorate to this. But then again, your cousin, Bellatrix, yes… you two aren't as different as you seem to boast," a voice sneered. Sirius quickly shot up and held his wand firmly out in front of him. A huff of something suspiciously close to laughter reached the drunken man's ears. "You never fail to amuse me with your stupidity, Black." A dark form stepped into the cave with a swish of his robe. "Lumos" he breathed. And a glow was cast from the tip of his wand. It was hard to make out his face, however, as the light cast grotesque shadows on his features. With fluidity of step not unlike that of a cat, he confidently crept closer to the man.

"I swear to you, one more step an' I'll hex you," he declared as he swayed drunkenly on his feet. "I got more important things to do than worry about your sorry little…" he felt liquid on his palm. Startled, Black looked down and his mind was instantly confused. Where his wand should have been was a large bottle with a bright yellow tag. _Dragon Barrel Brandy_, it said. He was holding the neck and with each quiver of his hand, dark liquid sloshed out of the end. A strong hand reached into his line of vision and plucked the bottle from his grip.

"Looking for this?" he mused, a wand made of delicate Caribbean rosewood slipping silkily through his palms. "I expected more from you Sirius. I heard you were doing quite well for yourself in the tropics. It seems that your exotic wand finally fit in somewhere, hmm?" When no reaction came out of the sulking man in front of him the robed figure snarled.

"Why are you here Black? To help the boy cheat his way, yet again, towards more glory and fame? Because, really, I thought that you two would finally have had enough." With a growl Sirius pounced and writhed in the air as he was suspended by wand point. "Tsk, such immaturity. Can't we handle this like adults?"

"Harry would never cheat his way into anything. He doesn't want the fame, and you know it," he roared. "You, on the other hand, Snivelus, that's all you've ever wanted; recognition, love. From Dumbledore, from Voldemort, oh, and we can't forget the tragic one sided puppy love you have for one little miss Lilly Evans, can we now, Snape?" The cloaked man growled and let Sirius drop heavily to the floor. "Well guess what Snivelus my boy, Lilly is dead! Gone, just like that. With just two little words…" The man crouched on the ground and clutched desperately at his wild mane of hair.

"You hate me Snape, I know that you do. So do it, do what you came here to do. Kill me" he whispered. Looking up he met the cold dark eyes and searched for the resolve, willing his lips to part to form the first syllable. He could see the dark piercing fire of murder in his eyes and he prepared to be freed from the shackles of despair. But then, without warning, the look changed to one of malicious glee.

"No. That would be too kind for you." Snape dropped a package on the ground and swiftly turned away, a twisted smile looming on his face. "Dumbledor's orders, Polyjuice potion in case of emergency. Use it wisely." Just as he was about to leave he turned around once more and gazed at the sorry scene he was about to leave behind. A dark cave which was empty save for a bottle of brandy, a crystal glass, and a flask of polyjuice potion. Huddled on the ground was a man, once noble and full of life, who was now reduced to a pile of regret and overwhelming despair. For a moment Snape's steely resolve faltered and he felt sorry for the man. He slowly dragged his feet back to the drunken man and crouched in front of him. His hand hovered above a curly lock of hair that had sprung loose from Black's quivering hands that clutched the rest of his hair firmly to his head. A broken sob escaped from under the mop of brown locks and Snape, realizing the position of his hand, hissed in surprise and snatched it back firmly to his side.

"Here, put up some wards, you insolent fool. How do you think Potter would feel if yet another one of his family were to fall to a very unfortunate death?" He lowered the rosewood wand to the floor and quickly stepped out of the cave.

Yes, he would let Sirius live, but only because he had sworn his life to the boy. It would be entertaining to taunt the crazed man for just a while longer before he executed him. With a triumphant smile and a swish of his robes he began to march forward. Yet, for some reason he could not shake the image of his hand hovering over the man's shaking body. There was an uncomfortable clenching in his gut. There was nothing more to this than revenge. His final revenge would be sweet; he would not let his efforts go to waste like last time.

He muttered some more under his breath as he gazed back at the cave which was now plunged into darkness. No, this would not do. He needed to finish it quickly. With an indignant huff and a less than sophisticated spin on his heels he stormed deeper into the forbidden forest.


	2. Chapter 2

**For those of you who have continued onto the next chapter, all I can say is thank you! I am completely blown away by how many people have already viewed the story. I would really appreciate it if you would review because I'm not quite sure what kind of reaction I'm getting from all of you. Nice comments, negative comments, it all helps so don't hold back. Thanks~**

"Did you find him?" A voice echoed from the recesses of the vast office. The office was ornately decorated with a plethora of antique objects, both muggle and magical. Instead of walls there were shelves of books lining every upright surface. The books looked old and well-loved; the whole room smelled antiquated. A woman's smoky voice gently bubbled through the golden gramophone displayed eloquently in the center of the room. There was no spinning record to be found under its needle, but soft jazz tittered out of the bell just as confidently as it would have in a muggle speak easy. Snape found himself swaying slightly and relaxing into the intoxicating sound of her voice. He could picture a pretty woman with ebony skin in a golden dress singing through a microphone as easily as if it were an extension of her own body. Black ringlets of hair would frame her face. Hair that resembled the hair of a man he once knew; a man that, moments ago, he had left in the dark.

Snape's head snapped up and he kicked himself internally for letting such a bothersome thought enter his mind. As he strode deeper into the forest of books, he smelled the faint odor of licorice and cigars. Curious, he followed his nose out onto the balcony. An old man in flowing robes was leaning against the railing. The long white hair that flowed down his back and off the tip of his chin somehow made him look more noble than it did old. Half-moon spectacles adorned his face and from behind Snape could see the world as though through a small movie screen. Peeking into the man's glasses in this manner made him feel as if he were invading on the wizard's private universe.

Not wanting to interrupt the serene scene in front of him, he merely cleared his throat. "Smoke?" the old man questioned, waving a cigar into the night sky. A cherry red light burned softly at the tip and a thin line of smoke curled lazily into the air.

"It's a muggle invention. Cuban cigars; apparently they are quite rare. It was a gift from Arthur Weasley. I'm usually not one for a smoke but who am I to let such a unique gift go to waste hmm?" The bearded man slowly brought the cigar up to his lips and took a slow drag. With a faint smile he blew smoke into the air.

"I dare say that I am enjoying myself," he announced enthusiastically and with grace that only a man with his stature could muster, he all but shoved the gift into Snape's hands. Hesitantly, Snape sucked on the tip and was filled with the taste of fire. It was fowl, but years of potion making allowed him to appreciate the subtle aroma of licorice that lurked within. Once the sweet scent had died away however, he was left with smoke. It was a taste which was all too familiar to him; Lilly's father used to smoke. He could often taste it as the stench wafted through the air when he would call Lilly in for supper. Snape grimaced at the memory. Yes, cigars were quite fowl.

"Severus, did you find him?" the old man questioned again, as he took back the cigar and started to wave it around like a wand.

"Yes, Albus, the fatuous hound was in the forbidden forest. How he fails to realize the gravity of the situation is unfathomable. The ministry has already announced to the whole wizarding world that it would be facilitating the tournament here at Hogwarts; the audacity of the man astounds me," Snape all but growled. Dumbledore coughed slightly and looked upon Severus with amusement in his eyes.

"Yes, it was a dangerous move. I do think, however, that given the circumstances, it will be best for Harry if Sirius is near. The boy can use all the support he can get. That means, Severus," he paused and waited until he was sure that the younger man was solely focused on him, "that means that you will have to refrain from killing him." Severus stared in shock for a moment but quickly recovered.

"Of course, headmaster," he sneered. Under usual circumstances, he would not be so rude to Dumbledore. However, these were not normal circumstances. Black, who Severus had condemned to the dementor's kiss not six months before was back and wallowing in a pathetic well of self-pity. He practically begged Snape to kill him, which quite honestly was his initial intention. Now that he wanted to die however, he couldn't do it. He couldn't give in to his wishes. The smoke was starting to get to his head and he grimaced uncomfortably. "If that is all," he said and, after another elongated silence as the old man smoked; he quickly backed out of the door.

"Oh Severus," Dumbledore called out as Snape was just about to pass the last shelf of books, "do check on him will you? Sirius, I mean. Make sure he doesn't get himself killed," he called. And with that, he turned up the music once more. Snape took this as his cue to leave, and vexed, he stormed out of the headmaster's office. _Check on him. Check on him? The man was practically drinking himself to death. He couldn't get a single coherent sentence out of the man except for "Snivelus you hate me. Snivelus kill me." Oh in due time, Black, yes in due time. _

What astounded him the most, however, was why? The boy believed that he wasn't guilty for killing his parents, proceeded to save his soul, and then kept in contact. One would think that with the sudden happy reunion, Black would be nauseatingly happy. Snape face twisted in disgust at the thought of Black being happy. There was a quiet voice in his head which made his face screw up even more. _What if he deserves to be happy? _Snape almost guffawed out loud. _You know that he is just as lonely as you..._

When Snape came to his senses he realized that he was leaning heavily against the stone wall in a dark alcove. The cool rocks pressed against his cheek and he allowed himself to stay there for a few moments, mouth hanging slack as his eyes slid closed. His breath deepened as it tried to clear his head of the nonsense racing through it.

"…you're kidding me! What a bloody idiot!" a girl screeched in the distance. Snape groaned and opened his eyes. He was pulling himself up to humiliate the girl in front of whichever blundering imbecile was listening to her incessant crowing when she began to speak again. "You have to get revenge, and it has to be good." His ears perked up. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret okay Martha? Listen carefully now." Snape strained his ears, but the lack of sound made it apparent that she was whispering. Another girl, most probably Martha, let out a surprised whimper.

"Seduce, him? But that's insane, I can't do that!" she cried out softly.

"Trust me on this one Martha. It's the only way to get revenge. You make him fall in love with you and when he finally realizes he can't live a day without you, you drop him cold. Just like that. And then he is absolutely ruined. It's pure genius, if I may say so myself," she cackled.

Snape pressed himself further into the alcove as the girls walked by. He could see the wisdom in her words. Yes, seduction was a powerful tool. Many a time the dark lord had relied on Bellatrix to enchant important men into revealing their secrets. They always came crawling back and she would have them running away, tail between their legs, in less than ten minutes. Yes, the tactic was, as she said, pure genius. No one could withstand it, not even someone as far gone as Sirius. It could work. Using Bellatrix would be too easy though; she would break him like a twig. Using anyone else would lessen his victory. No, he would have to do this singlehandedly.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Was he seriously considering this? No. No, absolutely not. Seducing a man, really? He scoured his brain to find the dead cells that were obviously impairing his judgment. Besides, man or woman aside, Snape couldn't remember the last time that he had actually seduced anyone. His love for Lilly had only been a one sided adoration and at such a young age, seduction had not even crossed his mind. Now, when the need arose, he could get what he wanted without a thought; being one of the dark lord's elite did have its privileges after all. The thought of starting now was shocking to him.

His life was comfortable before, why mess things up with the meddlesome psychology of Sirius Black? The idea was absolutely preposterous and it left a fowl taste in his mouth. His features set into a painful caricature bordering disgust and determination. There had to be another way. In the meantime however, he acknowledged that love would be his most powerful weapon. He just had to find a target for the crazed man's affections. His decision made, he set off swiftly towards the dungeons.

Upon arriving to the dungeons, Snape quickly grabbed a cauldron and stepped into his supply closet. He scanned the shelves as he rummaged through his mind for the most powerful love potion he knew. He spotted the Ashwinder eggs and moonstone and quickly snatched them up along with a few other ingredients. He had just what he needed to brew a strong bout of armontentia potion. As he reached the table he carefully cracked the egg and separated the yolk. He ground the shell in a mortar and swiftly folded the powder into the thick yellow cream. The moonstone was then regarded in a similar fashion. Rose infused sea water was gently poured into the mixture and with a final flourish of mint and rose thorns, he left it to simmer over a low cackling fire. Sauntering over to his desk, he sat with a flourish. The soft scent of calla lilies reached his nose and he smiled knowingly at the simmering brew. Another handful of ingredients and strong heat would finish the potion. He just had to wait for the mixture to come to a boil.

With a flurry of emotion he violently stood and shoved his papers off of his desk. He raced to the cauldron and threw that as well. Hot liquid flew in every direction and he winced as a sizeable portion landed on his arm. He was being a fool. He had to make Sirius believe that he was in love in order to thoroughly break him. That meant that love potions were out of the question. Grimacing slightly at the realization that twenty galleons had just gone to waste, he quickly went to work on damage control. Muttering a few halfhearted incantations had the room looking just as good as it did before the mess; that is: cold, dark and musty. Satisfied, he calmly made his way out of the castle and into the cold night air.

He racked his brains for a way to appeal to the tormented soul that awaited him in the forest. Forest in sight, he hesitantly strode towards it. At the last second he lost his nerve and veered to the left. The womping willow was only a few feet away. He had found his escape.

It was nearing sundown by the time he had finally mustered up the courage to venture into the forest. The deeper he followed the trail that he had used the other night, the more confused his mind became. Black must have listened to his instructions and put up the wards. He found himself being turned around more times than he would care to admit. Really, it was quite embarrassing.

"_Finite incantatem"_ he muttered with a flourish of his wand. Snape's head quickly cleared and he was able to see the path that he was following. With the wards disassembled, he was able to travel to the cave within minutes. When he entered the clearing preceding the cave, he froze. The warm package that he held clamped to his chest was slowly losing heat in the cold night air. If he ever wanted to get back to the warmth of the castle, he would have to get this over with quickly. With shaking feet and a look of grim determination, he stepped into the cave.

The last rays of sunlight cast eerie shadows in the cave. Snape walked forward and started when Buckbeak's orange eyes glared back at him. He was crouched protectively around something. After what seemed like eons of untrusting contemplation, the large animal forcefully brushed Snape aside and clambered out of the cave. Behind him lay a heap of old rags and a mop of matted black hair. As Snape stepped closer to the trembling figure, he noticed that a pair of frail grey hands were clutching at a crystal cup, filled with brandy. Every time his frame shook, the cup spurted some of the liquid onto the ground. Snape sighed and gently reached down to take the glass away from him. He poked two fingers into the ball of hair and was met with a slight grunt. After a few seconds hesitation, he mustered every ounce of tenderness he possessed and pushed the hair back away from Black's face.

Black's eyes were staring forward with the haunted look of a dead man. Skin was pulled tightly over his gaunt features from malnutrition and his chapped lips hung open as he desperately sucked at the air for oxygen. Snape placed a hand against his forehead and hissed at the fever that was nestled in Black's brow. He summoned some supplies from his chambers and coupled it with a disillusionment charm so as not to draw attention the various objects that would be flying over the forest.

Within seconds he felt something solid run into the back of his skull. With an exasperated sigh he arranged pillows and blankets on top of the mattress that he had just summoned. He picked Black up and carried him over to the makeshift bed. Snape wasn't weak, but the ease at which he was able to lift Black troubled him. He could practically feel his ribs even through his layer of clothes. He tucked Black in and fussed over him for a while, fluffing and de-fluffing pillows as he saw fit. After realizing what he was doing, he grimaced sheepishly at himself and started to determine what exactly was causing the fever. He let his wand hover over the shivering man's head and chanted repeatedly as he pulled his wand down towards his core. "_Morbus Sanentur, Morbus Sanentur," _he muttered, and the sound almost resembled a song.

After about ten minutes, the frail man's shivering finally stilled. Black's eyes, which up to this point had been staring blankly at the ceiling slowly lit with recognition. Every muscle in his neck strained painfully as he turned his head. His eyes squinted as they adjusted to the light coming from a small globe that was floating above his head. His lips, now smooth and with a healthy tinge of color, parted as if trying to speak. Snape's gut twisted uncomfortably. Eyes fully adjusted, the man was able to fully open them and they bugged out of his head. Snape would have laughed if he hadn't been distracted by the violent tremor that shook through the man's body. Instinctively he reached out a hand and placed it on the man's shoulder and held him still. "Severus," Black muttered as he curled into the wizard's gentle touch. It was the first time Black had used his real name. Snape couldn't help himself. For a moment, the whole world stopped as his heart skipped a beat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! Here's another chapter for you all. I don't know if this is entirely obvious, but I just wanted to clear up some confusion. This is all set in the beginning of the fourth book right after Harry sends the letter about his scar to Sirius and it will progress from there. **

**And for those of you who reviewed, thank you so much! This early into the story I was not expecting anyone to read it, let alone like it. Hope this next installment will hold up to your expectations! As always please rate and review, I'd love to hear more from those who are taking time to read this so that I can gauge how fast to be updating. Thanks~**

Sirius Black had been many things in his life. He had been a Black, a Gryffindor, a nobleman, a lover, a friend. Then he had become a convict, a prisoner, a dead man. However, throughout his life and all of his many identities, he had never felt as he had in the last seven days. It was as if he had been asleep for a very long time, and his emotions were suddenly hyperaware of every outside influence. Upon arriving to this little cave, he had felt a determination to save Harry so strongly it was all he could do to keep himself from marching up to the Gryffindor common rooms and whisking the boy away into his protection.

As he saw Barty Crouch slouch through the great doors of Hogwarts, he stopped dead in his tracks. A deep sense of despair rushed over him without warning. He was utterly hopeless as a guardian; he couldn't even walk the streets as a free man. He had sat in that cave for three days straight, eyes trained on Gryffindor tower as he drank his way into oblivion.

Then Snape stepped into his world and shattered everything. The little voice that had nagged at him to stay alive was strangled with his arrival. He insulted and berated him and then without granting his one request of freedom, vanished into the night air. Sirius' mind suddenly became occupied by thoughts of Severus. First he was filled with utter astonishment. Only months before he had condemned Sirius to the dementor's kiss and now he wanted to let him live.

Soon astonishment turned to hatred and Sirius spent many hours cursing his name. It made no sense, it would be better for Harry if he were dead as well. Harry. That was the whole reason why he was here, to help Harry. Sirius couldn't get into the building, but Snape could; he could use him. His mind grappled for a way as to how this would be possible, but it seemed to have stopped functioning.

It had been five days since he had had anything to eat or drink other than brandy. His body had finally had enough and he could feel each region of his body slowly start to shut down. He realized that his eyes were glued open as he watched night shift to day. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of children cheering loudly. The gently whiny of half a dozen winged horses reached his ears. Beauxbatons must have arrived. After a hushed silence followed another roaring cheer and Sirius' brain managed to record that Durmstrang must have made its grand entrance. He could smell the scent of the sea waft through the trees and he was curious as to which school had brought the beautiful scent to his attention. Curiosity seemed to overload his brain functioning ability however, and he saw stars explode in front of his eyes.

The next morning, Buckbeak scampered into the cave with much difficulty. In his talons was a large minx. He nudged the animal towards Sirius but when he got no response from the man, he tossed it outside. The animal bobbed his head forwards and attempted to move Sirius to an upright position. After several failed attempts he lay down next to the man and extended a wing protectively over him. The world was suddenly void of light but Sirius was vaguely aware of two orange orbs casting their worried gaze over him. Although his eyes remained open and his body still shook, the darkness allowed him to put his mind to sleep, and for a few hours, he was able to reduce the agony as his body slowly went numb.

His mind was awakened by a low guttural growl vibrating above his head. The sound continued for several minutes; it filled him from the inside out. It made him feel alive and Sirius hoped that it would never stop. The gently growl died down however, and Sirius shivered as the warmth that surrounded him disappeared from around him. Heavy footsteps echoed off of the cave walls and Sirius pleaded with his brain to figure out who was coming near to him. There was a heavy sigh and something was being removed from between his tightly clasped hands. Funny, until this moment Sirius didn't even realize he was holding anything. Two fingers probed his face and he grunted unwillingly as they stabbed uncomfortably close to his eyes. The invasive fingers quickly disappeared.

After a moment however, they were back, this time accompanied by a palm which slowly lifted the hair from over his eyes. The palm rested on his brow for some time and the dull throbbing in his head subsided. The figure in front of him let out a hiss and muttered a few words under his breath. A few minutes later, he was vaguely aware of a light being lit above his head. After much rustling and a few disgruntled huffs from his visitor, he heard footsteps once again return to his side. Slender hands gripped his shoulders and rolled him onto his back. He felt the ground disappear from under him and he panicked as he was being flung through the air. He willed his eyes to see what was happening, but they refused to display the images that were being captured there. The sudden movement caused his brain to swirl once more and he felt it sputter and die slowly.

Black awoke to the calming drone of a man's voice. "…_Sanentur,_ _Morbus Sanentur, Morbus Sanentur," _it chanted. The sound was deep and majestic and it went straight to his gut. He could feel the voice reverberating through him and he trembled slightly. Realizing that his eyes were now able to see, Black turned his head painfully to one side. As he did so, he couldn't believe what was in front of him.

Hooked nose and greasy black hair was all he needed to recognize Snape. He recoiled slightly fearing an ulterior motive, but, seeing the concern welled in his deep onyx eyes, Sirius was struck straight to his core. It must have affected him more than he had realized for in a second, strong hands were gripping his shoulders. The hands moved towards his chest and he could feel subtle movement as the man swayed slightly on his feet. He felt warmth seeping out from under the touch and spreading throughout his body. He didn't know what was happening, but in that moment, he felt an intense comfort in the man in front of him.

"Severus," he whispered as his bodily involuntarily melted against the warm touch. He sighed and slid his eyelids shut. It was the most glorious feeling in the world. Snape's hands left his body as he snuffed out the light. Sirius was able to breathe easy as Severus shuffled throughout the cave. The last thing he heard before he was unconscious was the sound of Severus chanting intricate spells in that sneering voice of his. He couldn't help but smile faintly at the sound.

"Black, eat," Snape commanded a few hours later. Sirius rubbed his eyes sleepily as a stone bowl was pressed into his palms. He found himself strong enough to sit up and he grasped the warm stone firmly on his lap. Inside the bowl sat steaming hot soup and a thick slice of bread; it was a beautiful sight to behold. His stomach turned a bit nauseatingly at the prospect of bringing food into his system, but was calmed with the first piping hot sip. It was at that moment that he realized he was ravenous. He wolfed down the soup and despite all efforts to keep his composure, could not help the murmur of disappointment when he was finished. Snape grunted in amusement and refilled the bowl with a small smile on his face.

He came back with two bowls and handed one to Sirius. Black motioned to the empty space on the bed next to him and after a long pause, the man cautiously perched on the edge. They ate in silence and when they were done Snape simply waved away the bowls. They sat stone still on the bed and neither of them said anything. No doubt they were both trying to figure out how best to use the other to their own advantage. Without looking at the other, they both blurted out uncertain words. For the first time all night, they looked at each other; really looked at each other, and they noticed that they both had sly smiles tugging at their mouths.

"Thank you," Sirius nodded, warm glow still in his eyes, "for the food, I mean," he emphasized with an even wider grin spreading sloppily across his face. Snape scowled and the sick man snorted in reply.

"I did save your life, you know," he stated evenly. Sirius sobered up and nodded. The light that used to be hovering from above their heads was now replaced by a small fire glowing on the ground. They both stared into the embers that were peaking beneath a clear glass kettle. Streams of bubbles could be seen rising through the water inside and the surface wobbled on the brink of boiling.

"How very muggle-like," Black smiled. Again, Snape's face twisted defensively.

"Some things are meant to be done as they have been done for centuries," he snapped, but there was no apprehension in his voice. He watched lovingly as the flames lap affectionately against the sides of the kettle and his eyes filled with wonder.

"It's beautiful," Sirius murmured breathlessly. He was commenting on the fire in front of him, but as he looked over to catch the man's reaction, his mind was a bit confused as to what exactly he was calling beautiful. Snape's usually harsh features were softened in the gentle glow of the fire. His hair was pulled back from his face and a small smile rested on his lips. His eyes were drinking in the sight in front of him. Snape looked so happy that tears might begin to topple from his eyes at any second. It was a stark difference to the Snape that he usually knew, and this version of him was absolutely stunning. Sirius felt as if he were invading on a very private scene so he turned his eyes back to the flames.

The bubbles finally broke the surface of the water and it was brought to a rolling boil. Snape produced two mugs and proceeded to pour the clear liquid over the ginger root that rested in the bottom of each cup. The mugs seemed to be made out of the same smooth stone that the bowl was made out of. He handed one to Sirius and again receded to the other side of the cave. When he returned, he was holding a brown package gingerly with the tips of his fingers. Guardedly he handed the packages to Sirius.

"I came because you needed to eat, more so that I had thought. Also…I figured this would be helpful," he muttered, and Sirius could have sworn that he saw a faint blush touch the wizard's cheeks. Curious, he untied the string that was holding the brown paper against its contents. Inside laid the most beautiful reams of parchment he had ever seen. It seemed to be made of bamboo and he could see matching envelopes behind it. There was also a sleek black box and upon opening it, Sirius discovered a bronze tipped quill and a bottle of ink. The gift was very elegant and masculine; Sirius would have expected nothing less from the potions professor.

"Thank you," he said, astonished at the fact that the man he believed hated him was now handing him presents.

"I thought that you could use it to write to the boy," Snape stated very matter-of-factly. When he didn't receive a reply, he tried a different approach. "Potter looks so helplessly lost as to what to do with himself. Really, I thought that by rigging the cup, he would have at least anticipated what he was getting himself into. He's as useless and troublesome as his father." With this, fury sparked in Black's eyes. "That's why he needs you. You kept Potter in line all those years ago, now, do the same for the boy." The heavy sentence hung in the air for a while until Serious recognized his opportunity.

"I can't help him, at least not like I helped James. I'm a wanted man remember?" he provoked. He didn't bother looking over this time, because he knew the look that he would see in those eyes. He didn't want to ruin the night with the hatred he would find within. "Harry needs someone who can be there for him, in the castle I mean," and this time, he looked over to catch the man's gaze.

"He has those unbearable friends of his," Snape huffed.

"You know what I mean. He needs someone experienced, someone like you to keep him safe."

"I have already sworn my life to Dumbledore. This includes keeping that boy alive," he sneered. Sirius sighed at the tone.

"I'm not accusing you of anything and I'm not asking you to take it easy on him either. Just, keep an eye out for him. For me," he pleaded in a husky voice. If what he had been reading between the lines that night was anything close to the truth, he thought that the bedroom eyes might help his case. Almost instantaneously Snape's onyx eyes clouded over. Deep within was a hunger, so intense that it frightened him. Fire blazed beneath his skin and he had to shake his head a few times before he could think straight again. They both stared at each other, air alight with the electricity that sizzled between their bodies. Snape's eyes slowly cleared and he broke his statuesque pose to nod once. Without saying another word, the wizard stood and swiftly walked out of the cave. Black saw him wave his wand behind his head and a thin sheen spread faintly over the mouth of the cave.

The abrupt nature in which he disappeared hurt him. Not emotionally, but physically. Deep in his groin he felt an aching pain that left him feeling empty and clutching desperately at his gut. With a huff he fell back into the sheets of his makeshift bed. He could smell the musky scent of Snape on the covers and he fell asleep within minutes. He dreamed fitfully of strong hands and blazing coals. Onyx eyes haunted his vision and with each piercing gaze they cast at him, a soft whimper was ripped from his throat. A small voice in the back of his mind hoped desperately that he wouldn't remember this dream the next morning. The rest of him knew that he would never forget the sensation that flooded him that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone, here's another chapter for you all! Thanks for the continuing support~**

Snape spun around so quickly that he got a bit light headed. He only left because he could not help the wide grin spreading like wildfire across his face. He had seen the look in Black's eyes; the surprise followed by a harsh blush and then, pure filthy desire. He had done it. He, Severus Snape, had seduced Sirius Black with one simple simmering gaze. He could remember the moment so vividly. He was trying to encourage Sirius to interact with the boy. Before he could become Black's confidant on his romantic affairs, he first needed to show that he was an ally. He thought that love and emotional attachment would be easier if he used the boy and he was right, to an extent. Black obviously cared deeply for Potter and his caged state had made him desperate.

"I can't help him, at least not like I helped James. I'm a wanted man remember?" he stated provocatively. That was all due to Snape of course, but he had a hard time deciding whether the statement was thrown out in praise or accusation. "Harry needs someone who can be there for him, in the castle I mean."

"He has those unbearable friends of his," Snape threw back with a slight edge of malice. No matter how hard he tried to grow to love the boy, he still could not suppress the immense headache that followed any thought of the 'golden trio.'

"I'm not accusing you of anything and I'm not asking you to take it easy on him either. Just, keep an eye out for him. For me," Black breathed and he batted his eye lids slowly. Snape drew back in surprise. What has Black trying to do? Was he trying to… no the idea was insane. All family relations aside, he could not believe that Black would stoop so low.

He used legilimency to probe Sirius' mind. The man was so weak that there was not struggle; he didn't even flinch at the presence that was invading his thoughts. Inside, Snape found various intricate plans regarding Harry's wellbeing. There were all so ridiculously vague and utterly impossible that Snape had to struggle not to snort in disapproval. Suddenly, the edges of the images started pulsing in black. Curious, he followed the trail of black to its source and was perplexed at what he saw. A thick sea of black rolled out and lapped up against other memories. He dove headfirst into the billowing sea and stopped short as the thick pigment cleared.

Reflected back at him was his own face through Sirius' eyes. All too clearly he saw his sharp, exaggerated features and cringed slightly at the state of his greasy hair. Black's mind honed in on Snape's eyes and he was surprised at the emotion he witnessed within: hunger. Perhaps this is why Black was acting so oddly. Black wasn't trying to seduce him; he had fallen under his spell.

He could feel Black tremble and his brain become incoherent. It was almost too good to be true. In his attempt to discover the best way to affect the man, he had unknowingly accomplished his mission. Yes, there was hunger in his eyes, but it was hunger for information, not hunger for Sirius. If Black chose to read that as something more, he would not argue with him. He had the man quivering with nerves and he didn't even need to try.

If it were anyone else in his position, they would have been snickering in victory. Snape was not other people, however, so instead he stood and turned his face away. Only then did he allow the wolfish smile to leak through his steely features. As he briskly walked out of the room, he could still see Sirius' mind in his own. The man was practically moaning at the loss of his presence. One thing Snape prided himself in was the ability to make others need him. It seemed that his expertise had once again succeeded and he had Sirius tangled in the sticky web of necessity.

What was he thinking? This was not the plan. This was more than he bargained for. Snape had no doubt that this would be the most effective method; the most rewarding. But, this plan, cannot become a reality. He wasn't prepared to nourish the spark that just flared and turn it into love. Without love, Black will not break, he knew that much. It was all wrong. He needed to find another way. As he wracked his brains for another mode of action, he eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

Snape woke up with a faint smile on his face. His hand flew to his lips immediately and fluttered on the surface. It was a curious sensation, and he could not place its origin. Scowling slightly, he drug himself over to the wash basin that was perched in front of a large window. After filling it with a porcelain jug of water that rested on the counter next to him, he proceeded to splash the cool liquid onto his face. He relished in the feeling of his pores tightening as the icy liquid touched his skin.

His room was located on the second floor and from this height; he could just barely look out over the serene lake. Deep in the center of the lake he could see tentacles wave lazily about as a large eye peeked over the surface. Most mornings he was perfectly content to stare at the serene creatures that were found swimming through the lake, but today as he shaved, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the edges of the forbidden forest.

Snape winced as he nicked himself with the straight razor; apparently he had let his mind wander a bit too much this morning. He preferred shaving with a straight razor rather than magic; there was elegance to the blade that could not be appreciated if he simply used a charm. People who found out about his quirks to do things the muggle way often laughed at him. A man with his magical prowess should not mock his talent with trivialities, they would scoff. Even Dumbledore could not help but quip at his odd behavior. He kept at it, however, because it reminded him of Ozzie from _The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet._ Whenever his father would get violent at home, he would sneak into the backyards of rich muggle children and watch the perfect Nelson family captured in the television set. Ozzie was like the father he never had and the one he had always dreamed of becoming. It really was preposterous… _He_ didn't laugh though. _He_ thought that it was beautiful.

_The fire lapped affectionately at the glass kettle that floated above its glowing coals. Each coal writhed and quivered like a pair of lungs; glowing with each intake of breath, darkening with the exhale. The fire cast curious shadows on the kettle and made it look almost as if small creatures were swimming in the water within. "It's beautiful," the man breathed in a husky voice. Somehow the guttural whisper made the fire seem all the more wonderful. He's right; it was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. _

He let cool water run down his back. Usually, Snape preferred his showers piping hot, but with the chaotic flow of emotion that was running through him this morning, he deemed it necessary to allow the numbing liquid to momentarily freeze his mind. After thoroughly lathering and rinsing off every inch of himself, he stepped out of the shower and quickly charmed himself dry. He savored the feeling of being clean. Despite what others may argue, his hair was not naturally greasy. Hours in a humid dungeons surrounded by various hazardous brewing potions caused him to look like the fowl creature that people made him out to be. When he was younger, this would bother him, but after over three decades he had ceased caring.

He dressed carefully and casually looked up into the mirror with each piece he finished fastening. Briefly he saw foreign hands reflected in the mirror. They started on his shoulders and he shivered as they slowly slid down to wrap around his waist. Snape violently spun around but no one was there. He expected this of course, but as he turned back around and stared at his bare stomach where those hands previously rested, he could not help but feel as if someone had been there with him just moments before. Flustered, he finished getting ready as quickly as he could and marched towards the great hall.

It had only been a week since Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived, but already it felt like an eternity. The great hall was mostly filled by the time he arrived at the head table which was quite unusual; he was usually one of the first to arrive. Dumbledore, along with the rest of the staff, cast a curious glance in his direction. Ignoring the inquisitive glances he made his way over to the open seat at the end and engaged in polite conversation with Professor Flitwick.

Usually he found the quiet chirping of the little man intriguing but today, he simply could not get engaged. He kept seeing things in the crowd of students below. He caught glimpses of slender tanned hands. Then he saw the hair, a dark curly mop that bounced around the owner's crown. Could it be Black…? With a growl of annoyance, he took one last swig of pumpkin juice and started marching around the great hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the chocolate brown hair swish out of the door. It took all of the control he possessed not to run towards the disappearing figure. He chased the figure, but it seemed to turn a corner as soon as he had it in sight. Finally he dead ended at the library.

Curious, he walked in and looked around. The whole place was absolutely deserted. His footsteps echoed as he walked through the towering shelves of books. Somewhere off to the left he heard the rustle of pages. Peering around the corner, he saw the thick bushy hair he had seen in the great hall, but something was wrong. He knew that hair. It was Granger. His stomach turned in disgust and he could feel his temples slowly begin to throb.

"I know you're there. There's no point hiding; you've already distracted me," the girl huffed from deep within the pages of a book. "Seriously Harry," she sighed exasperatedly as she turned around. Her eyes grew wide as she realized who she was talking to. Pages flew everywhere as she jumped onto her feet. "Professor, I didn't see you there," she muttered and pulled hair through her fingers. Her hands, they were different from the ones he had seen this morning. At once, the uneasy feeling that had been nestled in his chest disappeared. Snape snorted in amusement.

"Ms. Granger, it is a wonder that your friends still put up with you when you speak to them in such an insufferable manner," he sneered and he watched as her cheeks blushed a deep scarlet.

"Sorry professor," she mumbled, "I'll just go now," she muttered and proceeded to pick up the piles of parchment that littered the ground. One piece in particular had fluttered out in front of Snape's feet. She walked over and looked him in the eyes uncertainly. When he didn't make any move to pick up the paper, she rolled her eyes inconspicuously and crouched down in front of him. As she reached the parchment she looked up at him with her large round eyes.

He felt uneasiness in the pit of his stomach and cleared his throat to ease the tension. Hermione looked down once more and awkwardly shuffled out of the room. It was strange; he had never felt that feeling. It felt almost as if a dark shadow were looming over him. He shook himself and made his way down to the dungeons for his first class.

It was a rather uneventful first period. Most of the brew exploded all over the floor so he had made the students scrub the floor by hand for the rest of the class period. The next class, however, was the fourth year class. As he stormed into the hallway, he smirked at the 'Potter stinks' buttons that adorned the chests of almost every robe in sight. Draco and Potter were at a standoff in the middle of a ring of students. He could hear two sets of voice sniveling in the corner. He clutched his temples in exasperation; he could feel a migraine coming on.

"And what is all this noise about," he growled. He pointed a slender finger at Malfoy and commanded him to explain.

"He attacked me sir, and he hit Goyle – look," he cried as Potter interrupted him through the entire monologue. Snape looked over at Goyle and cringed at the oozing boils that covered his face. "Hospital Wing, Goyle" he ordered. There was a scuffle in the corner as the Weasley boy pushed Granger forward. Her two front teeth had grown down past her chin. She looked absolutely despicable and he felt a hint of sympathy for her as the whole class snickered. Her big doe eyes were trained on him again and he was reminded of the scene in the library. All sympathy that he had had instantly disappeared with the return of that sinking feeling.

"I see no difference" he stated evenly and smiled slightly as she burst into tears and stormed passed him. Her shoulder connected with his chest sharply and he huffed as the wind was knocked out of him. The last time he was touched by a woman in this way was that day when he called Lily a Mudblood. They were more alike that he had realized before; both smart, brave, muggle born, and they both had such large inquisitive eyes.

Thinking back on it now, perhaps the fact that she was so similar to Lily made him feel so utterly helpless earlier that morning? Mood thoroughly tarnished, he spent the rest of the class making Potter's life a living hell. Immature as he knew that it was, it did not fail to bring him amusement as Potter glared at him with the nastiest glare he could muster. It was a look of hatred so pure, he had no doubt that Salazar Slytherin himself would raise an eyebrow in approval.

As second period was about to end, a short mousy haired boy paraded into the room and called out for Harry Potter. After several failed attempts to keep the boy in class for the second half of double potions to feed him the poison, he realized that there was nothing more he could say.

"Very well! Potter – take your bag and get out of my sight." It took all of his strength not to throw a cauldron across the room. "Well, it seems as if testing will have to wait until later date," he retorted and then proceeded to storm out of the room.

He knew that he still had an hour of class to teach, but his mind was in turmoil over Granger. Without thinking, he let his feet carry him forward. When he looked up, he realized that he was on the outskirts of the forbidden forest. Startled by his unconscious, he scolded himself and quickly turned to return the castle. He saw Hagrid waving at him in the distance and grimaced; the oaf wouldn't stop talking long enough for him to get back to the dungeons in time. _On second thought, a stroll would be nice_. He swiftly disappeared into the forest.

Since Snape was the one who had put up the wards last night, it was quite easy for him to track it to the source. There was a loud scuffle to his left and he peered over cautiously. He could feel heavy wards surrounding the area and he cautiously stripped just enough down to be able to look inside. What he saw made his mouth hang wide open. Dragons, four of them, were in cages bigger than houses. The creatures were writhing and spitting fire at everyone and anyone who got close. He could see the fiery red hair of a Weasley in the back with a Hungarian Horntail. After watching the terrible creatures for a while longer, he put the wards back up and rushed over to the cave.

"Come," he ordered at the bed. The sleepy man reluctantly peeked out from beneath the sheets. His eyes were red from exhaustion and his hair resembled a bird's nest. A strong tanned hand reached up and wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

"Oh, good morning Severus," he purred between his dream and reality. He calmly stretched his hands up to the heavens and yawned with an over-accentuated arch to his back. Snape froze. Those hands… Black stood up with much effort and waved his wand around his figure. His hair was now properly groomed and his clothes looked less rumpled than they did before. Somehow, the display ticked Snape off immensely and he growled in disdain.

"Well, lead the way," Black gestured and with an easy smile he crouched and morphed into a large black dog. Snape started a bit at the sudden transformation, but was instantly calmed as the dog walked over and placed his warm muzzle in the palm of his hand. He gently stroked the head of the large beast absentmindedly; he had always wanted a dog. The animal bucked his head against his knees and pushed him outside. Right, this was Black, not a real dog. He slapped himself internally and led the way out of the cave.


	5. Chapter 5

**So sorry about the really late update! Snape's psychology has been bothering me a lot so I went back and tried to make things more Snape-like. It's nothing too drastic but it does change the angle a bit so for those who are returning readers, I highly suggest you go back and read it. Anyway, hope you like the new installment. Next chapter will be on its way before Sunday I promise. Thanks~**

It was strange, this sudden kinship they had developed. It was almost as if they had known each other forever, which, in a way, they had. Sirius pondered deeply as he bobbed behind the robed man in the forest. He sniffed as the fabric slapped his face and bounded forward to come level with the man's sides. The swishing cloth made it impossible for him to step any closer to the man, but this bubble of space is what made him feel safe. They weren't friends. No, friends would be shoulder to shoulder and smiling like maniacs. Acquaintances, yes, but there was something more to it. Tension sparked between them as Sirius caught Snape sneaking a glance down at him. Yes, there was definitely something odd about their interaction.

He thought back to moments before at the lip of the cave when Snape stormed in breathlessly and ordered him along. A disgruntled Severus Snape in a cave was quite an amusing sight to wake up to and Black was instantly transported back to the carefree days at Hogwarts. He had practically lived to see this expression. Mind still in the past, he yawned triumphantly and exaggerated the movement as much as possible. He couldn't help but chuckle as the man's eyes zeroed in on his hands and glared at them menacingly.

"Oh," he yawned and cast his best doe eyed look Snape's way. "Good morning Severus," he drawled and pouted slightly. Internally, he was rolling around in fits of laughter. He couldn't help but let a small smirk inch its way through his features. Snape, meanwhile, was seething with hatred. Black could have sworn he saw flames billowing out of the man's ears. Success. With a flourish, he stood up and charmed himself into a more presentable state. He made sure that his hair looked at least twenty times better than the old bat's, just to irk him all the more.

"Well," he mused, still relishing the absolute loathing that he saw in front of him, "lead the way," he said and crouched into his animigus form. He barked in laughter as the man visibly jumped in his skin. Curious as to what exactly the man wanted, he butted his head against Snape's hand to move them along. He was startled when the hand began to slide up his features and caress his head. After years in solitude, physical interaction felt so foreign to him. In sickness, he had found solace in the touch. Now, it filled him with a sense of unease. Nervously, and with much more force this time, he pushed the man outside. Seeing the visible shift in demeanor of the man in front of him, he was put to ease once again. The steely features froze once more into their mask and with stiffness in his step; the man tottered out of the dark cave and stormed into the forest.

Sirius was brought back to the present once more as a sickly sweet scent filled his mouth; the taste of very strong magic. Curious, he lifted his head and saw that Snape had stopped a few feet to his left. His hands were bent at an awkward angle and he was waving his wand frantically around an empty orb of space in front of him. As he concentrated more closely, he was able to see streaks of magic fly out of the sphere that the man was orchestrating.

Slowly, as if through a sea of hectic radio waves, he heard an orchestral crash of sound. He whimpered and attempted to cover his sensitive ears in order to protect them from the onslaught. As his ears slowly adjusted to the treacherous volume, he was able to make out distinct sounds. Vaguely he heard human voices cursing and shouting at each other. The overarching sound, he soon realized was a series of animal calls; roars so horrendous that it could only be one thing.

He slowly crept closer and stood transfixed at the sight in front of him.

Dragons.

Four great beasts stood on each corner of the circular clearing. Iron rungs encircled their necks and the thick strands of leather connecting the rings to the ground stretched taught each time they moved. Their flanks glistened in the sun. The one closest to him was a sky blue and its body slithered with the limber joints of a dancer. The one next to her was a deep fiery red. Spikes adorned his face and his whole being seemed to rumble with sparks of energy. The third was a lithe green, but it seemed more childish than majestic as it fervently stomped spirals into the ground. The last dragon furthest from him was a deep black. Spikes clustered on his tail and he swung it with deadly precision at the limbs above his head. The whole display was absolutely terrifying and one hundred percent mesmerizing.

A sudden urge to touch overwhelmed him. Cautiously he crept over to the magnificent beasts. They all seemed preoccupied with the humans and with each other so Sirius made it to the blue dragon with ease. He could vaguely hear Snape hissing curses at him from behind, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His whole body burned with intense fear and a painful need to feel the power that surged beneath the scales. The scaled themselves shimmered as if they could not decide whether they wanted to be solid or translucent. Tentatively, he allowed his muzzle to graze the pale blue scales. As he inhaled deeply, the smell of smoke and pine needles wafted up into his nostrils. It was a strange yet comforting aroma.

With trembling legs he lifted his left paw and placed it against the forearm of the dragon. He could feel erratic energy exploding from the muscles within. Each subtle movement of the dragon sent bolts of power ricocheting off of its scales. Suddenly, there was a shift in energy. Every muscle within him tensed as his animal instincts picked up on the danger. A crashing roar of fury bombarded his ears as a menacing set of teeth chomped inches away from his snout.

He found himself face to face with the terrifying creatures and he felt his eyes being captured by the fiery gaze of the powerful beast. Something shifted in the demeanor of the dragon and her eyes grew bright with fondness. A warm feeling sparked down his spine. He felt as if his mind had tapped into an ancient well of knowledge and he was frozen to the spot. He felt alive as the information flooded him, and his tail wagged violently with anticipation. Vaguely as if through a heavy rain he could see magnificent expanses of forest and sunsets so beautiful it would make a grown man cry. Sirius felt just as he did when he bought his first wand at Ollivanders; utterly joyous. He marveled at the magnificent sights that the dragon was showing him.

But the scene soon grew dark. He watched in shared agony as a steady sea of fire slowly engulfed the world. All he could feel was sadness and all he could see was fear. There were humans everywhere. An endless river of swords made with magnificent ore sparkled in the sun. They seemed invincible. They dragons could tell the difference between wizard and muggles. They saw the wizards rip apart the flesh of their fallen brothers, but it was only after they were already dead. The wizards were not to blame; the metal men were responsible for the massacre. Muggles, Sirius concluded grimly. They ripped and stabbed at the ancestors of this powerful beast and every inch of the world seemed to be bathed in red. He shook his head in bafflement; they always seemed to destroy what they didn't understand.

A frightening thought entered his mind. Harry's relatives were the worst muggles he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. The men, fat and lazy as they were, both had the same glint of hysteria as the metal men of old. What his consciousness had refused to address all of these years was made painfully clear to Sirius. Harry was in danger.

He whined and clawed at his temples at the painful realization. The mental anguish reached a crescendo along with the dragon's tale and, as he stared into the brilliant ruby of the eyes before him, he sensed their hearts connecting. Each held a different story in their hearts but both shared a sinking, mind numbing excess of sorrow. He felt the dragon probe his mind and instantly felt warmth within his bones. Yes, he understood what needed to be done. Determination sparked within and he could see it blaze in the beast's eyes as well. The dragon lifted her heavy head with grace and fervor and let out a tremendous stream of white hot flames.

"Magnificent creatures, eh?" a voice drawled from behind him. Sirius slowly extracted his mind from the canine mentality that had previously taken him over and slowly brought himself back to humanity. Slowly, he turned his head. The Weasley boy stood with hands on hips as he smiled widely up at the dragon. A horrible burn ran up along his neck and grazed his eyes. Sirius watched the red head boy poke gingerly at the angry red welt.

"They're mean; and I mean absolutely awful. But I can't help but love them, you know. Their eyes just hold so much sadness and yet they live each day with crazy energy like that," he remarked and grinned ardently as the four dragons roared simultaneously. "Absolutely beautiful," he breathed.

After a few more seconds of silent awe, he seemed to come back to his senses. "Alright you hairy old thing, run along before you end up burnt to a crisp," he ordered as he gestured knowingly at his inflamed cheek. He reached out a confident hand and gave Sirius a stroke on head and a pat on the rump and sent the big dog off into the woods.

As Black neared the place where he left Snape, he couldn't help but laugh at the look of annoyance etched deep into his exaggerated features. He could see Snape twitch uncomfortable as his mind literally itched for an explanation. With a raised eyebrows and a huff of utter disdain, he spun on his heels and disappeared back towards the cave. Black barked in amusement and, with a reluctant look back at the dragons, pranced after Snape's retreating figure.

For a few seconds, Snape said nothing. He stood in the center of the cave facing the wall. His shoulders were held hunched and his foot tapped in an erratic rhythm. Sirius walked into the entrance of the cave and morphed back into his human form. Still, Snape said nothing so he walked around the man and sprawled out on the bed. He was obviously irritated, but Sirius couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment; he was having such a high from the mornings encounter. He could still feel that strong energy pulsing from under the glimmering scales.

He was now facing Snape and he saw that the old man was holding his temples with one hand and grimacing with a pained expression, eyes tightly closed. It was a look that he had been well accustomed to during the student years. After the past few days, however, the expression seemed out of place in the confines of the cave. "Well?" Sirius asked, a bit irked that Snape was tarnishing his good mood.

"Do you always have to be such a fool?" he heard the man growl from behind a tightly clenched hand. Sirius found that stubborn Black blood surge within his veins and he couldn't help but respond in defiance. He shot up and raced over to Snape, grinning at the challenge.

"It was perfectly safe and utterly amazing. If you could just tone down your negativity, that would be greatly appreciated," he said. Snape looked up and glared in his direction.

"I'm surprised you weren't stepped on; I would have found it quite amusing," Snape challenged back. A lover's quarrel…the phrase somehow fit the situation. This was getting interesting.

"Never a concern; I'm quite nimble you know," he purred as he flashed his brows suggestively.

"It's a shame you weren't burnt to a crisp. Then again, I doubt they would have even made a meal out of you, seeing as you're just skin and bones." The malice was leaving his voice. Snape had entered the game.

"Hmm, but I'm sure you would have eaten me right up." This was getting fun. And the look on Snape's face… absolutely priceless. Snape's eyes flashed and Sirius laughed out loud. "You've got a bit of a pooch on you, old man," he declared as he poked at Snape's stomach. He was surprised at the strong muscle that he felt beneath his finger. The protrusion was only due to the many layers of clothes that the man was wearing.

"Old man? Might I remind you that we are, in fact, the same age? And I would consider myself far more athletic than yourself," Snape sneered. Suddenly the ground was spinning out from under Sirius. He gasped in shock. Snape had snatched him up in his arms and tossed him in the air a few times, always catching him with a strong grip. "See? I doubt you could do the same to me," Snape stated as he finally looked him in the eyes.

Snape's face was blank and Sirius found it impossible to glean what the man was thinking. The proximity was unsettling. He could feel Snape's warm breath tickle his ear. He shifted his eyes uncomfortably and tried to look anywhere but into the dark eyes that seemed to bore holes into his face. The long stare was making him nervous and fidgety. He coughed slightly to ease the tension and he heard Snape tut in disapproval above.

Slow footsteps echoed off of the wall as he strode towards the back of the cave, Sirius still in his clutches. Black felt himself being dropped and he panicked slightly; flailing his appendages in hopes of lessening the impact. He was saved by the soft comforts of the mattress. His bed…why? The unease had yet to leave his system and he looked up at Snape with slight apprehension. His eyes grew wide as Snape leaned over him and rested his torso on Black's body. He felt his heart beat quicken beneath the touch. The pressure quickly subsided however as Snape stood up, blanket dangling from his fingertips. With a flourish, he spread the cloth over Sirius and walked to the other side of the room.

"You have a cough, you haven't fully recovered. There's soup in the cauldron. Eat when you can," He stated evenly. Without even a backward glance, he vanished out of the cave. Sirius stared on; eyes still wide open in shock.

Strange emotions were rushing through racing through him and he found himself at a loss for words. He was still racking his brain for a clever rebuttal to Snape's demonstration. He had dismissed yesterday's emotions to his fever, or perhaps one of Snape's strange potions in the soup. He knew that he had recovered from his illness and yet, the strange feeling still remained. Why?

Despite the fact that the sun was barely reaching the center of the sky, Sirius was already exhausted. He found himself slipping into yet another fitful bout of sleep. A recurring dream from this morning took over his vision but the scenery was slightly different. He saw Snape in large mirror. Reflected behind him was a room that much resembled the prefects bathroom, though he deduced that it must have been a staff bathroom. Snape was staring into the mirror with a faraway look in his eyes. He was leaning forwards and was resting his weight on the sink in front of him with clenched hands.

Sirius instinctively reached his hands out to rest on his shoulders. Instantly, he felt the strength drain out of his hands and he grew very tired. He watched as his hands slowly dropped down Snape's torso and fell to his waist. The man in front of him was warm, and he had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around him. He burrowed his head into Snape's shoulder and took a restful breath. The thick robes smelled comforting; like a late night by the fireplace. His eyes slid shut and he felt at peace for the first time in a very long while.

He suddenly felt the warmth disappear from under his grasp and looked up in confusion. He saw Snape spin around and glare at empty space around him. Once more, his disgruntled gaze settled on the mirror. After a few moments of careful speculation, he seemed satisfied and proceeded to walk away. Sirius tried to go after him, but he found himself stopped by an invisible barrier. This was wrong. He was trapped in the mirror. Severus was never actually in front of him. He watched with a feeling of emptiness as Snape disappeared from out of the frame.


	6. Chapter 6

**Don't have much to say except I hope you like it. Next chapter will be on its way by next Sunday. As always, let me know what you think in the reviews. Enjoy~**

Snape leaned heavily against the sink in the bathroom. It had been about half an hour since he had returned from the cave. His life, once so simple, was now filled with a flurry of emotions. The past three days seemed to have taken over his mind. He could hardly remember a time when he wasn't constantly running into the forest to see that silly mop of black hair. He frowned a bit at the image.

He still hadn't found someone to make Black fall in love with. Everyone he knew was either a student, staff, or death eater. He couldn't even bear to think of the consequences of pairing Black with a student. And the staff, well, there was the obvious age barrier between the female teachers and men his age. On top of that, he still had yet to find a death eater delicate enough to perform such a charade. This really was quite a lot more work than he had anticipated.

He looked up into the mirror in front of him. His skin was paler than usual and crimson red blotched his cheeks. There were dark bags under his eyes and he couldn't help but cringe at the look of confusion and desperation that swam around his stormy black irises. Of course, this wasn't worse than the way he usually looks, but it still irked him.

He let out an exasperated sigh and slid his eyes closed. Snape felt a warmth gather around him and wrap affectionately around him. He instantly felt at ease. Then, the feeling shifted and it distinctly felt as if something was resting against his shoulder. His eyes flew open and he could see thick locks of curly black hair resting against his back. He flew around and glared at the empty space behind him in annoyance. The air felt charged the same way it had earlier that morning. He did not like the feeling at all. Mood thoroughly tarnished, he spun sharply on his heels and stormed out of the room.

All day he stomped down the halls seething with annoyance. Any student who crossed his path was given hell and a monstrous number of detentions. Each look of defeat and exasperation made him grin manically. Every corner he turned, he could see the moments from the mirrors captured vividly in his line of vision. He would see the hands sliding down his torso, or the head nestled into his back.

He knew who it was; it could only be Black. But for the life of him he couldn't fathom why his brain was coming up with such horrific scenarios. He sat through dinner, and again, he found himself thoroughly distracted. Picking anxiously at the meal that lay before him, he tried to hold on a conversation with Minerva. He realized that she was talking about the triwizard tournament.

"I have high hopes for Cedric going into this tournament," she remarked with a small smile, "but I am worried about Potter." She waited a moment for a response but, receiving none, she continued her monologue. "He is simply too young. He hasn't had any real experience with magic. The boy hasn't even taking his O. for goodness sake!" she explained with a wave of her fork. Snape ducked slightly to dodge any food which may have been flung from the invasive utensil. He grunted a bit in agreement, but his heart was simply not willing to be enthusiastic about the topic of Harry Potter. He digressed to guzzling down goblets of spiced mead.

After the evening meal had concluded, he realized that he was thoroughly buzzed and he couldn't help but allow a sloppy smile spread across his face. The small part of his brain that still had some sense to it urged him to leave the hallway in order to avoid being seen in such a compromising state. He consented, and tottered outside into the cool night air.

He wandered aimlessly for a while and found himself next to Hagrid's cabin. He heard voices inside and was instantly curious as to who the big oaf was talking to. Snape sauntered over to the back of the building and discreetly peered through the window. He could see Granger's mane of hair inside and he cringed slightly. He remembered the sharp pain of her shoulder ramming his ribs earlier that morning and instinctively thought of Lily once more.

Granger was waving her hands animatedly as she talked. As he watched her hands flutter about and her face light up with conversation, he couldn't help but picture Lily in her place. He felt a sharp stab in his chest as his sober mind reminded him that the young red head would no longer smile like that again. She was gone.

He shook his head a bit to clear the grave thought that had just entered into his mind. At times, he would have a sudden urge to pour his feelings onto the nearest living thing, but it would be pointless; there was no one who understood him. Dumbledore was sympathetic, of course, but Snape could tell that he regarded him with pity rather than understanding. Minerva mourned along with him, but she mourned for the loss of a daughter rather than a true love. No one knew the pain that he clutched deep inside his breast.

He tripped and fell forward onto his knees. His hands met soft pine needles and he could smell the musky scent of the earth waft up towards him. Funny, he didn't remember ever walking into the forest. Curious as to where he was, he lifted his head and looked around. He could see a clearing ahead and he crawled his way over to it. The moonlight cast a soft glow onto the grass. A small colony of rabbits was grazing in the field. He watched as a dark shadow loomed overhead. The shadow grew larger and as he looked up, he saw a hippogriff silently dive into the clearing. His front talons were gleaming in the light as he extended them forwards. With ease, he speared a rabbit with each talon and swooped back up into the sky. Snape could hear him squawk in victory as he carried his meal away. He saw the large animal descend about fifty feet north and decided to follow it.

Snape rose to his feet and ran as quietly as he could. He saw a large commotion ahead and eagerly peered forward. The hippogriff was extending its wings upwards and flapping them leisurely in the wind. It then turned around and looked inquisitively to its left. The animal seemed satisfied with what it saw and visibly relaxed and curled up on the ground. Its gaze once again facing forward, Snape couldn't help but feel as if it was aware of his presence. Bright orange eyes pierced him to the spot. All at once, he realized who this particular hippogriff was. It was Buckbeak, the insufferable animal that freed Black. He glared accusingly at the animal and stomped towards the right. He knew that if the animal was resting here, it meant that Black's cave was nearby.

His brain finally registered what his unconscious had been trying to tell him all night. Black would understand his feelings; he and Potter were as thick as brothers, after all. In his drunken state, he found this knowledge incredibly comforting and he bounded eagerly towards the entrance. His sober mind groaned in disdain at the unflattering spectacle. Within seconds, he had stumbled onto the cave floor. He breathed in the soft scent of earth and rock and his mind was instantly transported back in time.

A young Snape sat perched on the edge of a quite lake. He swirled his feet around in the clear blue water and, with an innocent laugh, plunged them into the squelching mud below. He brought his foot back up over the surface and jumped back in shock. An orange newt clung to his toes. Laughter as beautiful as rain reached his eardrums. Two slender hands reached out and plucked the animal off of his foot. Gently, she brought the critter up to her face and gave it a small kiss. Her long red hair bounced as she rocked with soft pitters of laughter. Her eyes, the most striking emerald in hue, lit up in delight as it squiggled out of her grasp and dove back into the cool water below.

"Look Sev, he's found a friend," she exclaimed in delight as two little orange newts darted away from the shore. She jumped in after them and frowned a bit as her dress brushed across the surface of the water. Pale lavender turned to brilliant plum as the water soaked upwards. She gathered the material into her arms and let it go with a flurry of motion as she twirled around. The dress flared out at her waist and trailed a ring of water droplets around her. Thoroughly amused, she flung her arms around her head and spun around again; bubbles of laughter escaping her throat as she danced.

She stopped suddenly and bounded over in front of him. "Come dance with me, Sev," she pleaded with outstretched arms. He shook his head vigorously from side to side. "You have to," she pointed out. "You see, it's actually a spell. If we dance together, we will have happiness for years to come," she proclaimed with another giggle. Reaching down and grasping his hands, she straightened up once more and retreated into the water. Cautiously they spun around in the water. Hand in hand, they run faster, creating a small swirling vortex between them. Severus tripped and dragged Lily down with him. Falling into the water with a monumental splash; they erupted in fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Her face suddenly grew very serious. "We have to finish the spell," she said as she reached out, palms extended. Severus gently placed each of his hands in hers. "My grandmum taught me this spell. I think this is how it goes. So, Mr. Snape, repeat after me very carefully," she commanded. A small smile danced on her lips as she waited for a reply.

Usually he would have quipped at a spell that her muggle grandmother had taught her. Today, however, was so perfect and peaceful that he found himself trusting her completely. He could feel something magical fill the air. The thick curtains of the willow that encompassed them swung in an invisible breeze. He had grown very serious as well, and nodded in understanding. "Ready?" she asked and he nodded again, breathless with anticipation.

"_caelum,_"

"_caelum_"

"_exitas_"

"_exitas_"

A soft breeze rustled around them and they smiled at each other with grins so wide that Severus found his cheeks hurting. Soft rain drops began to fall and soon it found its way through the thick leaves of the willow above them. Laughter filled the air once again as they resumed their dance in the water. They danced and sang and drank up the rain which fell like sweet nectar from the sky.

He was foolish then. Later, after Lily had died, he went back and found the spell. It sat there in a book centuries old. The ink was faded to a rosy gray and the pages crackled at his touch. But the words were there, clear as day. "To gain happiness for years to come," it was titled. The spell was simple and absolutely beautiful. _Caelumavitas _

All those years ago, framed by the willow tree and the gentle shore of the lake, they, Severus Snape and Lily Evans had made a grave mistake. They had gotten the spell wrong. It wasn't a spell anymore, it was a curse. _Caelum exitas_, they had said. The end of happiness. A sob escaped his throat. When he was only nine years old, his fate had been decided for him. The end of happiness had befallen him…

A gentle hand gripped his shoulder. _Lily…_he cried and melted into the warm embrace. He could smell the fragrant perfume of leaves and faintly he heard the rain begin to fall onto the soft earth. He clung to the arms that embraced him and buried his head into the warmth. He had never cried like this in front of anyone before. With alcohol running through his veins, however, he couldn't bring himself to dry his eyes. Just this once, he allowed himself to cry and grieve for the love of his life.


	7. Chapter 7

**I had a bit too much fun delving into Snape's psyche, so here's some more. Lots of Marauder Era flashbacks in this one as well. Let me know what you think!**

Snape felt something warm being pressed into his hands. Deftly, he accepted it and clutched the heat to his chest. The sweet scent of butter beer wafted up to meet him. The smell brought about a whole new wave of nostalgia and he sipped it thoughtfully. It had been months since he had allowed himself to think about her, his sweet Lily Evans. He could picture every moment with her in perfect detail. Each precious day with her had been permanently ingrained in his memory.

"Isn't it delicious Sev?" she laughed as she enthusiastically poured the golden liquid down her throat. "I think we should bottle this up and sell it to muggles. We'd be millionaires!" she exclaimed. Of course, this muggle term had gotten her many curious glances from those around her. Without even batting an eye, however, she spouted on about in depth marketing strategies and advertisement campaigns. He had a very limited knowledge of the muggle world so her musing flew right over his head. Despite the fact that he could not grasp what she was talking about, he was perfectly content to watch her babble on to her heart's desire. He loved the way that her eyes wrinkled when she smiled; loved the fluidity of her lips as they flew from one syllable to the next. Her hair, the color of ripe persimmons, bounced with each enthusiastic nod of her head.

Her exuberance faltered as she turned her head towards the chime of the bells. A cold gust of wind stung Snape's nose as the door was flung open. Four boys stood in the entrance. The two in the back stood with their hands clasped tightly to their sides; one slightly unsure of his surroundings, the other merely exhausted. In front however, stood two boys; hands on hips, with wide mischievous grins spreading from ear to ear. The one with glasses flashed a dazzling smile around the room and proceeded to march towards a table in the back. With ease the tall boy next to him grabbed the neck of his robes and readjusted his course to a larger table. Every movement exuded confidence. As he sauntered towards the table, his robes billowed about him in a manner that almost resembled royalty. So this is what a pure blood looked like, Snape thought in awe.

Lily huffed in disapproval and downed the last of her butter beer. Without another word, she grabbed Severus' hand and marched out of the door. He hadn't realized that he was staring at Black until he ran his head into the bell on the way out. Black looked up in amusement and instantly their eyes locked. He watched as the boy gestured to him and made a joke towards his table mates; all the while keeping his eyes on Snape. He laughed with gusto and his curly black locks bounced along with the rhythm of his voice. Snape could feel the heat rise to his cheeks as many of the surrounding students joined in as well. What he wouldn't give to be on the opposite side of that laughter.

He felt a gentle tug on his hand and looked up to see Lily's face scrunched in worry. He hated to see her like this. With one last glance at the jeering faces behind him, he let the door slam shut and stepped out into the frigid winter air. With every ounce of strength he could summon, he cast a beaming smile her way as he ran along up the path.

"Come on Evans, it's a long way back to Hogwarts," he called out after him. He heard her sigh in relief and come bounding after him.

"Race you!" she tossed back as she skipped out in front of him. "Last one there gives up their bag from Honeydukes," she announced with a playful glint in her eyes. He chased after her and couldn't help but marvel at the way her brilliant red hair contrasted against the soft white snow that blanketed everything in sight. In that moment, he knew that he absolutely adored her. He knew that he would chase her to the ends of the earth; if only to make her his own.

Strong arms held him and slowly rocked him back and forth. The rhythm was numbing and he felt himself grow heavy. He could see Lily's effervescent smile, and his mouth twitched upwards to match her complexion. She nodded at him and flashed another one of her brilliant grins in his direction. With that he allowed his weary eyes to slowly slide closed.

He could hardly feel the warm tears drip softly down his face, but he could taste the salt that pooled onto his lips. His hands twitched instinctively but he could not bring himself to extend his exhausted limb. A soft cloth was pressed to his cheeks and the tears were gently dried from his face. He sighed heavily, though whether in contempt or sorrow, he could not say. The last thing he was aware of was Lily's soft laughter and the sound of another voice; a deep thrumming voice which sang a song with no melody. The raw emotion that seeped out of both voices calmed him and lulled him into a deep sleep.

Sirius jumped when he heard the dull thud of a body crashing to the ground. He looked towards the entrance of the cave and saw a dark figure lying face down on the floor. The arms were twisted at a strange angle and legs were splayed wide. Cautiously, he made his way over to the figure. The smell of alcohol that leaked from it was overpowering. As he got closer, he realized that the man was shaking uncontrollably and muttering softly. The words that spilled from the man's mouth were indecipherable. Every couple of seconds, the endless monologue was disrupted by a broken sob. The incessant muttering identified who the intruder was. Sirius sighed and knelt next to him.

In the corner of his mind, he could still feel the mixed emotions that occupied him earlier that morning. However, he couldn't help but reach out to console Snape as he lay sobbing on the floor. He struggled to get the man into an upright position and drew back the hair that was plastered to his tear stained face. While sitting, Snape was a few inches taller than he was. However, due to the fact that he was practically doubled over in grief, Black couldn't help but see him as small and vulnerable. Sirius allowed Snape to rest his head on his chest.

"Lily…" Snape muttered and shook violently once more. Lily, as in Harry's mother? For a moment, he couldn't fathom why Snape would be dreaming about the woman. Then, he remembered a time when she was still called Lily Evans. She and Snape had been the best of friends. But then again, he thought to himself, a man and a woman were never just friends.

Suddenly, Black could remember the pale boy in the shadows who stood silently watching every moment that James and Lily were together. He remembered how the young boy clasped his hands tightly around his chest and seemed to melt into robes that were much too big for him. He remembered how he hid behind curtains of black hair, greasy from hours spent in the dungeons. Whenever he could see his eyes, they were filled with hatred and overwhelming sorrow. Sirius' heart grew heavy as he replayed the scene in his mind.

Tentatively he reached his hands around the shaking man's frame and patted him awkwardly. He could feel muscle slowly relax beneath his touch so he allowed his hands to still and lightly trail up and down Snape's thickly robed arms. An almost paternal instinct welled within him, and he found himself slowly rocking back and forth. Without thinking, he began to hum a wordless tune. The man grew limp in his arms and his breathing finally stilled to an even rhythm.

Sirius eased up onto two feet and drug Snape up with him as he did so. The man's arm was draped heavily against his shoulder. With a grimace of determination, Sirius crouched down and lifted Snape off of his feet. With laborious steps, he made his way over to the bed. Snape was right; he had gotten out of shape since he had been back here at Hogwarts. It also didn't help that the man he was carrying was surprisingly well built and incredibly heavy. With a final grunt he dropped the man onto the bed.

He was winded now and exhausted from the short trip across the cave floor. Slowly, he slid himself down onto the floor and rested his back against the bed. He threw his arms up and his head back so that he was splayed comfortably over the edge. The fire, which he had lit earlier that night, was now growing dim and the room was cast in a soft red glow.

He felt something twitching at the crown of his head. Curious, he tipped his head further backward, attempting to see up and over his forehead at the scene behind him. He saw Snape's arm extending from above him. He followed the appendage upwards and noticed Snape's jet black hair flowing across his shoulders and onto the bed. His face, now free of the curtain of hair, was exposed to the night. The wrinkles that gathered between his eyes grew tighter as he grimaced in worry, even in his sleep. His mouth twitched as he dreamed, as if he were on the cusp of conversation. Sirius stared, enraptured by the subtle dance that they played on his porcelain skin.

A strong hand snuck its way into his hair. Sirius tensed at the unexpected touch. The hand slowly caressed his head and twirled locks of his hair around its fingers. It wasn't uncomfortable; quite the contrary. Sirius found himself enjoying the warmth on his scalp. He relaxed into the intoxicating rhythm of Snape's gentle touch.

He jumped up as he realized what was happening. This was Snivelus, the boy who had allied himself with the death eaters, the man who had sentenced him to the dementor's kiss. This was Severus Snape… A man.

He sat up abruptly and ran a shaking hand through his hair. His own hand somehow didn't seem as comforting. What was happening to him? He couldn't quite place a finger on it. The man had invaded his every thought. He had catered to his every whim. Every morning, no matter how hard he tried, he could not suppress the growing anticipation of seeing the old bat step into the darkness of the cave. Why…

He felt the fingertips brush his back and clutch at empty air.

"No…stay…" he heard the man utter behind him. The syllables, so pronounced even in drunken stupor, pierced him with precision. The two words caused his brain to fall apart and his resolve to crumble. Involuntarily, his body melted against the side of the bed and offered his head of hair to the inquisitive hand. As flesh touched flesh, electricity sparked between them. The dull throb of energy coursed through him and filled him to his very core. Framed by the sound of the rain and the gentle firelight, he felt safe and…dare he say, happy. It was a curious sensation that he had not felt in a very long time. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relish the moment.

After a few hours, Sirius was awoken by a dull pain in his neck. He had been sitting on the ground with his head bent backwards the whole time and he was beginning to feel the consequences. A chill breeze wafted in through the cave entrance and instantly the room dropped ten degrees. He shivered violently at the change. Although he was mere seconds away from once again succumbing to exhaustion, he managed to crawl into the bed and under the thick covers.

Warmth radiated from the side closest to the wall and he moved eagerly towards it. He encountered an obstruction halfway there. In his sleep deprived state, he couldn't quite determine what it was, but he snuggled against it all the same. The shape was curved in such a way that if he turned over and pressed his back against it, he could feel the warmth all down his body. As he nestled against it, he felt it move. How odd. A small part of his brain nagged at him and insisted that he was forgetting something very important. However, he was tired and warm and he couldn't find it in himself to muster up the strength to pursue the thought any further. As he reveled in the feeling of cat like bliss, he drifted once more into his dreams.

"Black! C'mon Padfoot, where are you? Don't be such a git I want…I want to talk!" He heard someone shouting. Well, that was different. He was curious, so he somewhat grudgingly stepped into the clearing where the boy stood. They were deep in the forbidden forest so the whole scene was cast in an eerie green glow. He morphed back into his human form with ease and stood in anticipation.

"Well?" he questioned. James Potter stood in front of him. He was twiddling his thumbs and pacing back and forth. His hair stood in disarray as if he had been running his hands through it in frustration just moments before.

"That Evans!" he exclaimed with an angry wave of his hand. "She just won't stop will she? I think she's trying to kill me!" he cried as he spun around on his heels to face Sirius. His eyes were wide with crazed energy and his mouth hung slightly ajar.

"What do you mean she's trying to kill you?" Sirius questioned. By this time Remus and Wormtail had snuck into the clearing behind James. They looked at Sirius with questioning eyes and gestured at him to stay quiet about their presence. He nodded slightly and trained his eyes back on James.

"Well for one thing, she always walks right in front of me and flings that obnoxious red hair in my face like she's trying to slice my eyes out. I swear if I didn't have these glasses I'd be blind. And then! and this is just plain horrible, whenever I try to talk to her, she just snuffs me! She walks away as if I don't exist! Really, the nerve of the woman!" he declared with a stomp of finality. Sirius could practically see the stag seeping through, pawing at the ground angrily as it waved its horns. He had to try his best to suppress his laughter.

"I think she's poisoned me as well!" he exclaimed. "It's got to be some kind of mind control potion or something," he muttered to himself as he took another lap around the clearing.

Sirius snorted at the comment. "Oh? And why do you say that?" he questioned. He could see Remus and Peter snickering in the back as well.

"Every night she invades my dreams. Every day she's in my thoughts. I can't get her bloody face out of my head!" he replied, this time, clutching at his skull as if expecting to drag Lily out of it.

"You've got it bad, mate," Remus chuckled as James spun around to face him.

"I do? Will it kill me?"

"Most definitely."

"Well... How long do I have?" James asked with wide eyes.

"I reckon about, oh, sixty years? Isn't that right Remus," Sirius added with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Sixty years!" In his panic stricken state, he was unable to process what they were saying to him. They nodded at him eagerly, grinning from ear to ear. "oh…"he sighed and slowly lowered himself onto the ground. He had his arms wrapped tightly around his knees and he was swaying slightly; almost as if he were trying to prevent himself from throwing up.

Wormtail silently crept up to him and grasped his shoulder. "Oh, it's not so bad... it's just love," he consoled. James instantly grew stiff.

"What did you say, Peter?" he questioned. Pettigrew looked up with nervous eyes. It was the first time in years that anyone had called him by his first name.

"I said it's love… you're in love." He clutched his hands nervously to his chest and looked at the others for help.

"Love..." James sat with his hands to his temples and thought for a good three minutes. Slowly, a grin started to spread across his face.

Within the blink of an eye, James had bounced onto his feet and grabbed Wormtail by the shoulders. He pranced around the field twirling the poor boy around with him as he went. Sirius had never seen anything quite like it.

"Did you hear? He reckons I'm in love Sirius!" he sang as he attempted to waltz with the unwilling Pettigrew. "I do believe he is absolutely correct" he announced with a brandished hand. Sirius clapped a hand to his head. The overbearingly theatrical boy in front of him never ceased to surprise him. "I can't stop thinking about her. I must see her at once," James declared while discarding Peter onto the forest floor. He ran off towards the castle at full speed, all the while muttering behind him. "I'm in love, I'm in love!"

"Well, the fun is all over now," they sighed as they grudgingly followed him up to the grounds.

"C'mon Wormtail, what'd you have to go and say that for?" Remus accused as he softly cuffed him over the head.

"He would have been miserable for days; used me as a handkerchief," he replied softly.

"Well, why's it got to be love? Couldn't you have at least called it a love potion?" Sirius questioned him.

"We all know she wouldn't do that, he would have figured it out eventually. Besides, he can't stop thinking about her. What else could it be?"

"You know I hate it when you're right," Remus sighed.

"Yeah… well it's never happened before…" Peter muttered under his breath. The two others boys roared with laughter.

"Right you are, Wormtail. You should try it more often! It's quite fun, being right," they exclaimed and left him to puzzle over their sudden exuberance.

Somewhere deep in Black's unconscious, his mind processed what Peter Pettigrew had said all those years ago. _"He can't stop thinking about her, what else could it be?"_ Love. Was it possible? Could it be that he, Sirius Black, broken and damaged as he is, had finally fallen in love?

With Snape… No. The idea was preposterous. He quickly locked that thought deep into the outer recesses of his mind where he would never find it again. Satisfied, he drifted into unconsciousness once more; this time making sure that what lay ahead was simply a dreamless sleep.


End file.
