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Best Served Cold	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Sirius Views: 12564 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, nor am I making any money off of it. It's called FANfiction because I DON'T own it, right? Right. Good that we're clear.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-Epilogue
- 11
- 12
- 13
Chapter
12

Nothing is ever easy. Sirius knew it, but he didn't think that meant
everything had to be unnecessarily difficult, either. In other
words, Sirius Black was sulking. Severus had been 'otherwise
occupied' for the past two Order meetings – Dumbledore's words,
so they could mean anything, really.

Even Harry seemed to be too busy to let Sirius know how things were
faring at Hogwarts. He supposed he should consider that a good thing
– Harry only seemed to contact him when something was wrong.
Having Harry Potter for a godson, Sirius had come to realize, might
just make him prematurely gray – and that certainly wouldn't
win him any points with his current infatuation. Harry was nothing
if not James's son, but Sirius didn't realize how much worry James
could inflict until he was the one playing parent. Well, to be
honest, if Harry didn't turn Sirius gray, then Severus would. Where
was he? What was he doing?

He knew it wasn't his place to worry over Snape like a neglected
lover, but he couldn't help himself. Snape was entrenched so deeply
within the enemy camp that every day was like a new way to avoid
getting caught in the crossfire. At least, Sirius imagined it must
be like that. He had plenty of time to imagine things, what with
still being on the wrong side of the law and therefore trapped inside
this bloody house. As for his own death-defying feats as of late,
Sirius was loathe to admit that most of them had to do with senile
cookware, sock-eating wardrobes, and his mother's godforsaken
portrait in the hallway, which he was determined to be rid of if he
had to level half of London to do it. That was an exaggeration, of
course...but not much of one.

Kreacher, it went without saying (but let's say it anyway) was little
use as a house elf, and even less as company.

Now that school was in session (and with half of the Order busy with
tending students and the other half with various other jobs, Sirius
had only Mad-Eye for company, and that was sporadic at best. Remus,
busily courting (and about time, too) didn't come by as often as he
used to. Sirius didn't hold that against him – the man needed
a life, and Tonks was young and charming, so what that she couldn't
cook? Remus could be all domestic, and she could work for a living.
It would work out just fine that way.

Once again, Sirius had nothing but time to think. The house was
filling up with Order members for tonight's meeting, which was
pleasant and always improved Sirius's mood. He needed company more
than anything else, but he kept to himself for now. Severus was
expected to make an appearance tonight, and Sirius didn't have very
long to think up a way to make the man stay.

He went over things he knew about Snape. Sexy voice, gorgeous arse,
and sarcastic wit were dismissed as engaging but not even remotely
helpful. 'Likes books' had promise, but perusing the library didn't
offer any suggestions that might intrigue the Potions Master.
Severus had probably already read everything in the Black Library.
If he hadn't, Sirus couldn't identify anything that looked
particularly rare. It all just looked old to him.

He also knew Severus couldn't resist confrontation, but their verbal
battles didn't show any sign of improving his chances at a
relationship.

What else was there? Snape hated surprises, so tricking him
into staying somehow wasn't going to help.

He was naturally curious, but what could Sirius do that would inspire
Severus to stay for curiosity's sake?

An hour and much cussing and pacing later, he found himself in the
kitchen. “I'll cook dinner, Molly. You deserve a break.”

“You cook?” Tonks blurted gracelessly, as if it was
completely unheard of that Sirius might.

“Of course I cook!” Sirius said with a bit of amused
defense. “How do you think I feed myself when you lot aren't
here, huh?”

“Take away?” Tonks replied. “That's what I do.”

“I'm sure no one would mind at all then, if I gave the
address of Order Headquarters to every take away boy within five
miles, just so I don't have to endure slaving over a hot stove,”
Sirius laughed.

“Well, if you put it that way...” Tonks muttered, looking
embarrassed that that had never dawned on her.

Molly was giving Sirius the most peculiar look as he rummaged through
the cupboards and pulled out a white apron, tying it around his
waist. It showed distinct signs of use – a pinkish sauce stain
and a few yellowed areas, probably grease streaks. Sirius Black just
wasn't the sort for keeping things pristine. Aprons were designed
for getting dirty, so there didn't see much point in anti-stain
spells. “Relax, Molly. I'm good at this, I swear. I used to
cook for James and Lily all the time. Take a load off. It's my
kitchen. I like using it once in a while,” he teased.

Molly looked to Remus, who answered with a bland shrug. “James
did occasionally mention that Sirius was cooking dinner. In the
worst case, we can go to the muggle restaurant down the way and bring
back a few pizzas. It's his kitchen, let him have his fun.”

“Oh, if you insist,” she sighed. “Be sure to make
enough for Severus as well. He never seems to come early enough for
supper, but it would be rude not to have food for him if he wants to
eat.”

“Don't worry!” Sirius beamed. “I've got everything
under control.”

*

Something was off. Severus hadn't been able to identify it at first,
but then he realized there was the most delectable scent coming from
the kitchen, and Molly Weasley, mother extraordinaire, was seated at
the dining room table with her husband and a cup of tea, whispering
in that mysterious way that couples often do. So, who was cooking?
And for that matter, why was he not yet being accosted by Sirius?
'He isn't bedridden again, surely. His wound was doing quite well
when I was here last. Perhaps he was reckless and it became
infected, or...?' He chastised himself for jumping to
conclusions. The man was probably just using the facilities.

“Joining us for dinner? That's quite a change of pace, isn't
it?” Lupin asked.

“One can only endure but so much of Dolores Umbridge,”
Severus replied. Even dinner with the Order was rather like a break
by comparison.

“I imagine. Kingsley says rather colorful things about her.
Well, Sirius will be pleased. He's taken it upon himself to create a
feast fit for royalty tonight and banished even Molly from the
kitchen.”

“Sirius is cooking?” When had he stopped calling
him Black, by the way? Severus couldn't remember.

“As it happens, he's surprisingly good at it.”

“...interesting. I suppose he will make someone a good wife
one of these days, then,” Severus joked dryly.

“About that, do you have a minute? Remus answered quietly with
a short nod toward the drawing room.

'Crap.' Severus nodded. With
Black's recent behavior, this was inevitable, really, so Severus
wasn't surprised when he was being asked about his intentions five
minutes later. “Black is the one with 'intentions', don't you
, think?” he replied.

Remus frowned at him. “I'm being serious. He's far more taken
with you than I ever imagined.”

“I do not believe that I am required to humor his obsession
simply because he has decided to fixate on things best left in the
past.”

“The past? You think so? He does nothing but ramble about how
much more handsome you are now that you're grown. He talks about
wanting to wake up beside you. I just...”

“Want to interfere with things which are none of your concern?”
Severus finished for him. “Whatever Sirius sees in me has
little, if anything, to do with me. Now, if he wants to chase a
dream because reality is too harsh, then that is his business and has
nothing to do with either of us.”

Remus sighed. “You always manage to amaze me, Severus. Right
when I think you can't possibly be this bitter and jaded, you prove
me wrong.”

“My apologies then, for being a realist.”

*

Remus hadn't been kidding about the feast. There was a large roast
and a casserole, soup and salad, roasted potatoes, mixed vegetables,
fresh, hot bread, and Sirius Black in an apron with his sleeves
cuffed and his hair tied back into a sloppy ponytail.

'Does he know that he looks his best when his clothes and hair are
a bit sloppy? He must. He is still trying to seduce me.' It
was with heavy disdain that Severus admitted it was working. The man
was gorgeous. And he was making such an effort. 'For me.'
It was insane, but it was also ridiculously flattering, even if
Sirius was positively mad. So when Sirius said, “there's
plenty, take as much as you like,” Severus had obliged himself
of some more potatoes and ignored the huge grin Sirius fixed on him
as if he couldn't be more pleased that Snape liked his cooking.

In fact, Sirius was so cute when he was happy that after the meeting
when he was gathering teacups and leaned over Snape's shoulder to
whisper, “Stay for dessert,” Severus replied with a
barely perceptible nod even though he had the feeling Sirius didn't
intend to make the same offer to the others.

He was right. Forty minutes later, Sirius was pushing Remus out of
the house insisting he 'fly Tonks home'. “These are dangerous
times, mate. Shouldn't fly off on your own, hm? Be a gentleman and
see the girl home.”

Remus cast him an irritated frown, but one that was tempered by a
blush. He cast Snape one last wary glance, as if he didn't want to
leave him alone to trample all over his dear friend's supposedly
delicate heart, but with no excuses to stay and a pretty young woman
to see home, Remus excused himself.

It was when the door closed behind him that Severus realized what an
error in judgment he'd made. He was completely alone with Sirius
Black, who had offered him 'dessert'. This couldn't possibly end
well.

But Sirius turned on him with a beaming smile and said, “You
like strawberries, don't you? I made a shortcake.”

“...that will be perfectly acceptable,” Severus answered.
It was more than acceptable. It was his favorite. How did Sirius
know?

“I thought so. When we were in school, you usually skipped
dessert, but you always ate the shortcake.”

Sirius had apparently paid him much more attention than Snape had
realized. He had half a mind to call him a stalker. “Your
memory is astonishing.”

The smile Sirius offered as he
pulled the cake from the fridge was much sadder than his usual impish
grin. “Not much to do in Azkaban but
remember. I spent twelve years thinking about trivial things, more
than a fair share of them were about you.”

“Black...” Severus warned. He wasn't up for this
conversation, now or ever.

“No. I'm not going to lie.
You know how I felt about you. It was because you didn't feel the
same that you blew me off, but kept at it with Remus. And you don't
need to defend yourself or some bloody stupid thing. I don't like
the way you did it,
but that you did it, if you really didn't have any feelings for me,
that was the right
thing, even if I hated it. But...that was then. I've grown up. I
like to think I've matured a little. I'm not as prone to stupid,
thoughtless, vengeful crap anymore. And I'm not expecting
confessions of undying love on the spot, or anything. I'm just
saying that a lot of time has passed, a lot of things have changed.
We can change too, can't we? It could go so much better
this time. I thought...”

“Sirius, do
finish your rambling and cut the bloody cake, would you?” Snape
interrupted. It was difficult to believe that he could make Sirius
Black so adorably nervous just by sitting quietly at his kitchen
table, listening. He might slip and kiss the man again if he didn't
somehow make that innate cuteness stop.

Sirus remembered to take a breath. Severus had a way of turning him
into a babbling idiot. “I just want a fair shot. I thought
you could join me for dessert like this now and again, and we could
get to know each other better, take it from there. For real this
time, not the half-arsed shite we played at when we were kids.”
He slid a slice of cake toward Severus and poured him a fresh cup of
tea.

Severus took a bite – it gave him a moment to consider how to
reply. “Your timing is unique, to say the least. Surely you
understand my current situation does not allow time for piddling
about with your nonsense.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. If he were a lesser man, he'd be seriously
offended by that last bit, but he cared for Snape enough to overlook
the wording, if only just. Severus couldn't say anything gently.
Prat. “No one knows what tomorrow will bring. We're at war.
There's no way to know if we'll even survive, so I...”

“Carpe diem, is it?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

If he weren't so handsome, if
Severus didn't remember so clearly how wonderful Sirus's lips and
hands felt on his body, would he ever consider such an insane
request? 'No. Of course not. Especially not now. He
couldn't risk it, not with all that was happening – Voldemort's
rise, the risks Dumbledore was taking...Umbridge (a minor nuisance
by comparison, but she represented a much larger problem.)'
He lowered his fork and rose. “Thank you for the shortcake,”
he said. “As to the rest, I will have to decline.”

Sirius's expression fell. “Because you want to decline, or
because you think you have to?” he pressed.

“I do not owe you an explanation,” Severus determined.

“You don't owe me anything,”
Sirius replied. “But you do
want me. Don't you think you owe it to yourself to find out if
that's all it is?”

“If there was ever a time where something could exist between
you and I, Sirius, it is not now. We have both made far too many
mistakes, and lived through far too many ordeals. What you ask is
impossible.”

Impossible. It was the most depressing thing Severus could have
said, but it was an answer. At least Severus had given him a
decisive answer.

To
Be Continued...
- 11
- 12
- 13
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