Chapter Two

'Well, what was that all about?' Ron asked.

'I'm not sure,' Harry said, frowning, as he stood up and moved towards the door. 'But I bet Remus knows.'

'Harry ... wait ... give them some time,' Hermione said quickly as she and Ginny exchanged worried glances.

'What for?' Ron put in.

'There are other people's feelings involved here,' Hermione replied. 'Don't go blundering in, asking questions you don't need the answers to right now.'

Harry hesitated; so it wasn't just his imagination.

Ron wasn't put off though; in his normal fashion he felt he deserved needed more. 'Feelings? ...What are you on about?'

'She's on about the fact that Sirius and Severus were a very hot item at school for a while ... and then something happened,' Ginny said, in her matter-of-fact way, with a knowing glance to Hermione that Harry didn't miss.

'What?' Ron's face had gone a colour that clashed horribly with his hair. 'Who told you that shit?'

'Bill, actually,' Ginny replied with a smug little grin.

'What?' Ron's ears darkened to purple; all in all he was a Technicolor mess. 'Bill? ... Our Bill? Snape and Sirius? Don't talk crap ... Our Bill?' he repeated, as though he hadn't heard properly. 'I don't believe you; our Bill wouldn't even talk to that slimy git.'

'Don't ask then,' Ginny retorted back.

'How does Bill know anyway?' Ron persisted.

'You don't want to know,' Ginny said firmly, and tossed her red mane.

'I do.'

'Okay then.' Ginny looked once to where Hermione was watching her with the air of a young woman who shares a secret with another. Ginny gave her brother the little smile she used when she delivered a really good bit of information. 'He had a fling with Severus a couple of years ago.'

'I don't believe you,' Ron said hotly. 'You're making it up. Bill? ... and ... and Snape?'

Harry watched on; he believed it. 'What else did Bill say, Ginny?' he asked.

'That Severus used to visit Sirius in Azkaban.'

'Oh,' Hermione said quietly, as though she were reluctant to admit her ignorance, and just realised that she had done so. 'I didn't know that bit.'

'The visiting warrants got sent to Dad in the Ministry by mistake once. Apparently Severus used to go about once every three months or so.' Ginny gave her little smile. 'He was the only visitor he ever got, except for Ministry officials.'

'Lupin didn't go?' Harry asked quietly now.

'Nobody went ... remember, Harry,' Ginny said, 'Remus thought he'd betrayed James.'

'Snape did too,' Ron pointed out. 'So does Bill,' he added, clearly wanting to distance any Weasley from Severus Snape, apart from his clearly deranged sister.

'Perhaps he didn't care...' Hermione said, giving Harry a look. 'I don't mean he didn't care that your parents were dead. But perhaps ... I mean ... when you love someone, it's unconditional, isn't it?'

'Are we still talking about Snape?' Ron expostulated. 'I mean, imagine finding your only visitor is that greasy git. No wonder Sirius broke out,' he added, as though that made any sense at all. 'What did they do? Stand and hex one another?'

'Probably,' Harry said thoughtfully; he didn't think to disbelieve Ginny. 'Probably they were so used to doing it, it kept them both happy ...it probably still does. I don't think they even know they're doing it half the time. Anyway, I think I'm glad he went ... at least someone did.'

'I think that's so romantic,' Hermione said, smiling wistfully.

'I think you're all nuts,' Ron said with a pained expression, as Lupin opened the door.

*****

Sirius sat in his bedroom, trying in vain to shut out the images that haunted him.

But still the picture of a young Severus, just bare days after his sixteenth birthday when Sirius has seen him in a drugged sleep in the Infirmary that awful night of the incident at the Shack, crept out of the dark corners of his mind. Sirius had sneaked down under James's cloak, once Dumbledore had finished with him, and he'd realised then that that something was over, that a gift he hadn't had time to unwrap properly had been snatched from his grasp. He remembered standing for a long time at Snape's bedside, looking at the bluish shadows under his eyes; he remembered being hardly able to breathe at the thought of what had happened, and what would become of them. Perhaps it was as well he hadn't known then what the long future held.

Sirius let the images flow, steeping himself in all too familiar self-pity, and found himself thinking of Snape leaving his cell in Azkaban, handing him clean water and cigarettes, which would be stolen from him, at the end of another painful fifteen minute visit. He thought of how Severus would never know he lived for these visits, or maybe he did; maybe that was why he'd kept coming back, maybe he had needed them too. He thought that if he tried he could recall every single visit, every time he told Severus never to come back to gloat at his downfall, every bitter wounding word he hurled at Severus's back as he left the cell, all the time wanting to beg him to stay a few more minutes.

And he thought of a new image now, one he could add to his collection of personal Dementors: a picture of Severus standing at the bottom of the stairs with Lupin barring his way, of him moving Lupin aside and going out into the cold Christmas night ... alone... Happy Christmas, Severus.

How had they managed to make such a mess of everything? he wondered.

He hoped he hadn't gone back to Lucius ... Happy Christmas, Sirius.

*****

Snape's mind was reeling with a combination of alcohol and doubts. He laid the tiny vial aside. He had run his tests, and confirmed what he had already known; it had contained Veritaserum. Sirius couldn't have been lying, but he couldn't think what he had meant. He failed to notice how cold his rooms were; it didn't seem to matter. He wished he hadn't left Grimmauld Place now; that had been childish, and somewhat beneath his dignity, and ... at least Sirius was there, and even fighting, and keeping up the show of aggression he had practised for so long, was better than this lonely peace without him. Severus wondered how he'd ever let himself get into this mess. It was too late now though, too late to change; it had taken him too many years to realise that he desperately needed what was never coming back to him. He despaired of his own folly, his own inadequacies.

Maybe he'd go back to Lucius tomorrow, at least he'd be glad to see him ... but Severus didn't want Lucius; he wanted what he couldn't have. He drained the last of the bottle into his half empty glass, and tossed the lot over his throat; it didn't even burn on the way down.

*****

Harry wanted to be alone with Lupin; he didn't want any more of this history scoffed at by Ron, or cooed over by Hermione. Ginny seemed to be the only one who really accepted things at face value, without either ridicule or romance. He thought a little about that, about how long she'd known about the secret visits to Azkaban and had kept the information to herself; she was a deep pool. He wondered if that was why, of all of the Gryffindors, she was the only one Snape ever addressed by her given name, ever graced with one of his twisted smiles. Harry realised with a jolt that he was very fond of Ginny himself.

'It's late, come on, let's go to bed,' Hermione said pointedly when the chatter turned desultory.

'Coming, Harry?' Ron stood and stretched.

'I'm just going to make some hot chocolate,' Harry replied. 'I'll be up in a minute.'

'Okay, I'll wait, I'll have some too.'

'You don't need hot chocolate, Ronald. Come on,' Hermione said a bit more pointedly.

'How do you know what I need? I'll wait for Harry, if it's all the same to you,' Ron flared in his usual way to Hermione.

'What she means is, Harry would like a private word with Remus, and that's a bit difficult with you hanging onto every word he says.' Ginny stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder.

Harry couldn't help laughing; trust her to get it right again.

*****

'I don't really know, Harry, and if I did, I still wouldn't tell you,' Remus said. 'If you want to know about Sirius, he's the man to ask.'

'What about him and Snape?' Harry persisted. 'Did they have an ... an affair?'

'Harry ... they were fifteen ... just turned sixteen. You've been sixteen. You know what it was like, in love with a different person every three weeks ... let it lie.'

'But it was different with them, wasn't it? I mean Ginny just told me that Snape used to visit Sirius in Azkaban ... every three months ... for twelve years,' Harry said, adding bits all the time to emphasise his point. 'And they still pretend to hate one another ... what's that all about?' It struck Harry just then that Lupin was surprised. 'You didn't know that, did you?'

'No ... Sirius never told me. But then, that's his business. I never interfered when it came to Snape and him.' Lupin seemed to catch himself, to try to cover his error. 'It's not our business, Harry. It's Snape's and Sirius's.'

'Who did? Who did interfere?'

Remus looked down; he looked as though he were weighing up what to tell and what not to tell.

'It was my father, wasn't it? It was my father who tried to drive them apart,' Harry demanded. 'That's why Sirius was so upset when he guessed what Snape was going to ask him. I know that. He would have said if it had been Pettigrew.'

'How do you know it wasn't me?' Lupin asked.

'You? No way. Even if he'd said that under Veritaserum I wouldn't have believed it.' Harry frowned as the candles guttered slightly just before they heard the front door click shut. 'Someone just came in.'

Lupin stood and opened the door to the quiet and empty hallway. 'No, no one came in, Harry, someone just went out.' He gave a little smile. 'Go to bed.'

'D'you think Sirius has gone to see Snape?'

'Yes, I suspect he has.' Lupin put his hand on Harry's shoulder. 'Now, why don't we give them the privacy to sort themselves out if they can? I think they deserve at least that.'

'Where did he go? Snape, I mean ... has he got any family?' Harry was suddenly struck by how isolated his former Potions Master seemed. Everyone he knew had a bit of history, even himself, but he knew nothing at all about where Snape came from.

Lupin looked into the middle distance as he filched another cigarette from the packet someone had left on the table. Harry knew he knew loads of stuff; he wondered how he could drag it out of him.

'He had two brothers, half-brothers ... one died,' Lupin said eventually without any more prompting. 'I'm sure you gathered from Sirius's mother's tirade that Severus was born on the wrong side of the broomstick.'

'Who's his brother?' Harry asked more in hope than expectation.

'I'm not positive, but I think I know ... but that's not any of your business. Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do.' Lupin gave Harry a long level look, and then smiled his self-effacing smile. 'Severus is the son of a wealthy but plain daughter of an aristocratic wizarding family from the northeast of England. His father and mother met, and had what was known as a "liaison", during an International Wizarding Convention. I remember her vaguely. She befriended my mother, and sometimes visited when I was very young; strange woman, she was,' he said, and Harry thought there was something wistful in the way Lupin spoke, as though remembering a time when things were kinder, a time when he was different to the werewolf he had become. 'Anyway, she married a Muggle, a brute of a man who only took so plain a woman for the dowry that he could drink,' Lupin went on, somewhat bitterly, 'and she died many years ago. Severus was sent by the family to be brought up in the south of England, when Tobias Snape drank himself to death.'

'Who brought him up?' Harry asked with bated breath; this was good stuff.

Lupin looked at him in surprise. 'I thought that much was common knowledge. He was sent to grow up with Lucius.'

'Are you saying Lucius Malfoy's father was also Snape's father?'

'No, Harry. Severus is not a Malfoy ... now you're getting no more from me.' Lupin clapped his shoulder. 'Not a word of this gets spilled around, Harry, promise me. I'm sure I've been far too indiscreet as it is.'

Harry smiled; it had been a night for indiscretion. 'So he's not the impoverished Potions Master he appears to be?' he asked, pushing what he fancied might be his advantage. 'Why does he teach at Hogwarts?'

'Impoverished?' Lupin replied. 'I don't know where you got that idea, but Severus is quite probably almost as wealthy as Lucius Malfoy. He is an academic, Harry, and I suspect he has absolutely no interest in money. As to why he teaches at Hogwarts, I suspect that is to be near Dumbledore, the one man who always believed in him. Make no mistake about this, Harry, there isn't anyone more committed to what Hogwarts represents than Snape. At least the last few years have taught those who didn't trust him that lesson. Anyway, go to bed. I'm going too; I doubt it's worth waiting up for Sirius.'

'Yeah, just going ... but twelve years, that must mean something.'

'Harry, what you saw in the Pensieve when you were at school ... the incidents between James and Sirius and Severus .... Don't run away with notion that Snape was a romantic victim of some sort. Things happened to everyone. Maybe he got more than his fair share, but he wasn't the trodden upon boy you seem to think he was. He gave every bit as good as he got ... well, almost.'

'Such as?'

'He two-timed Sirius mercilessly, for a start,' Lupin replied. 'With Lucius Malfoy.'

'That's hardly the same thing as sending someone to a werewolf,' Harry argued.

'When you're sixteen, it is.'

*****

The dungeon corridor was cold and empty when Sirius walked along it, hoping against slender hope that Severus had indeed come to this seemingly deserted netherworld, where only every third wall sconce was lit, and his footsteps seemed to be echoed by his too fast heartbeat. He thought about transforming into Padfoot to see if he could scent Snape, and discarded the idea; if he was in, he'd know soon enough. He stopped, dry-mouthed, at the door to the Potions Master's private rooms, and put an ear to the door, feeling a little silly; all he needed was for Filch to catch him. He watched in detached fascination as his hand knocked on the black oak.

No reply. Maybe Snape had gone back to Malfoy Manor after all. Sirius laid his forehead against the door, feeling the crush of disappointment. He knocked again. 'Please be in, Severus,' he whispered, as his knock seemed to reverberate from the stone walls of the uncaring corridor. He stood for a few moments, sure that Snape wouldn't have gone back to Lucius; he hated Malfoy Manor when there were other guests there. Maybe he'd sent an owl to Lucius, and had met him somewhere else; that was a possibility. Maybe Malfoy was in his rooms, on the other side of that oak door right now; Sirius balked at the thought. Then he heard it, the tiniest sound; he wasn't even sure what it was, but his acute hearing caught something, some human sound.

'I know you're in there, Severus. Open the door,' Sirius called, and knocked again. Nothing, no acknowledgement; perhaps he'd been mistaken. The whole dungeon seemed devoid of life. He wondered what he had come here for anyway. Another argument? Another mutual slanging match? He was about to leave, unsure of how he would face the rest of the Christmas holidays and the joviality around him, when he tried the door, more out of habit than any conviction. It swung open onto the dark room. The dimness of the corridor let his eyes adjust quickly to the room, which was just as well; that saved him falling over the man who lay sprawled on the floor.

'Lumos,' Sirius whispered as he crouched at Snape's side. He tried to turn him over on his side, but Severus was heavy, and very drunk. He couldn't just leave him to lie on the floor to sober up though, and he certainly wasn't going to involve anyone else. 'Severus ... wake up ... come on, you can't lie here.'

He got a groan as a reply; at least Snape was bordering on consciousness, and he certainly wasn't dead. Sirius tried again to heave him upwards, surprised at how heavy he was; he wondered when he had filled out so much, and pushed the thought away. His eyes caught the tiny vial lying on Snape's table beside the empty whisky bottle. It looked suspiciously like the one from the board game; he supposed Snape had brought it here to check its contents. Sirius cursed himself for messing about at Grimmauld Place for so long. Snape had probably been drinking at Lucius's earlier, he'd certainly been knocking it back at Grimmauld Place, and he'd given him a good hour and a half to finish the work here. All in all old Severus seemed to have made a pretty decent job of getting smashed. He eventually used brute force to move Snape onto his side, and managed to slip his own arms under Severus's from behind, and heave him up to a semi-sitting position. It took him another ten minutes to get him onto a settee; Sirius wasn't exactly sober himself.

He rummaged about in cupboards for a Sobering Potion; he didn't want to use a Sobering Spell on Snape, from his own experiences the accelerated hangover wasn't worth that. He found another bottle of malt whisky instead, and poured himself a hefty slug. 'Can't beat you, mate,' he said in self-mocking toast, 'so I might as well join you.' He threw the first measure over his throat, poured another, and went to the settee.

He pointed his wand to the cold empty grate, lit a fire, and sat next to the catatonic Potions Master. He brushed Snape's long black hair away from his pale face and pulled Severus to him, stifling his own gasp of pain as he did so; it had been over twenty-five years since he'd held this man, or boy as he had been then, and every day since, it had hurt a little more. Now they sat there, two damaged men, unable to untie themselves from the past, from the folly of youth, and the madness of injured pride and self-inflicted wounds. Sirius knew Severus loved him; he even thought that Snape knew his love was returned. He wondered what was wrong with them, what character flaws had made what should have been inevitable, impossible instead. Maybe it had just got easier to hate. Sirius felt himself drift off, as the room warmed bit by bit, and the whisky did its job.

*****