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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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter
14

“...what?” Sirius asked, feeling the bile rise in his
throat and his heart stop beating for a moment.

“It was Snape!” Harry howled. He'd be in tears,
but his eyes were so bloodshot that Sirius knew he must have no
energy left for crying. “Snape killed Dumbledore!”

That was where Harry's ability to communicate failed him. He was too
angry, too frustrated, and far too lost.

At the funeral, all Sirius heard about was how much Dumbledore
trusted him, relied on him, what a severe betrayal this was. Sirius
decided that he must be in shock. Nothing felt real. Severus kill
Dumbledore? That couldn't be, right? Severus was too...

'Too what, Sirius? Do you know him as well as you thought? Or
were you just seeing in him what you wanted to see because you wanted
him so badly?'

“How are you doing?”

Sirius startled out of his thoughts and blinked owlishly at Remus. He
wasn't sure when Harry left the room, or even what time it was, and
he hadn't noticed when Remus entered. “Am I the one you should
be asking?” he replied.

“Of course you are,” Remus replied. “Snape...”

Sirius shook his head. “He had us all on. If I fell for his
act, that's not the biggest tragedy. Not today. Today is about
Albus.”

Remus offered a tired smile. “Well, so be it then. But if
tomorrow is about Butter Pecan straight from the carton, no one will
think any less of you, Sirius.”

Sirius offered a weak smile. “I am so over Butter
Pecan. It's Mint Chocolate Chip now.”

“I stand corrected.”

*

He envied them, really. They had time to mourn. Severus often
blamed himself for Lily's death, but he hadn't cast the fatal blow.
But Albus? Casting Albus Dumbledore to his death, whether or not
he'd been ordered to do it by the man himself, would haunt him for
the rest of his days – however many or few they may be.

“Severus, you're distracted.”

“I apologize, my Lord,” Severus answered smoothly. “It
is just peculiar to have my work as a spy end so abruptly.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Voldemort, who returned to his
ego-maniacal monologue. As for Severus, why was it now, of all
times, that the hidden recesses of his mind chose to return to Sirius
Black? Why did it matter how the man was taking the news that
Severus was a traitor and a murderer?

'Because you liked it. The rose-colored way he saw you... For a
fleeting moment, you thought maybe you could become that man for him,
to become someone worth loving.'
He chided himself for the sentimental gibberish running through the
most secret, guarded part of his mind. 'In any case, that
is all quite impossible now. Dumbledore may be dead, but the Dark
Lord is very much alive and there is much work to be done, many
things left to protect, which will need much more protecting than
they used to.'

*

Sirius wanted to be angry. He wanted to hate, but his heart just
wasn't in it. It kept feeding his mind ridiculous scenarios in which
this was all just another clever ploy. It kept remembering a certain
sadness in Snape on the day they hadn't really said goodbye.

'Because I wouldn't let him,'
Sirius reminded himself.

To be honest, he only spent a
portion of his time thinking about Snape. These days his mind was
far more occupied with a perpetual state of worry over Harry.
Running about England chasing after pieces of Voldemort when he ought
to be in school. A school which, if rumors were true, was now being
run by Snape and a few of the most brutal Death Eaters. He felt
another pang in his chest at that. 'Severus, what are you
doing? This isn't you.' He
kept thinking things like that. It made no sense. Snape was a
traitor. He'd killed Dumbledore, and now he was leading a bunch of
Death Eaters in torturing young boys and girls. Dumbledore was dead.
That couldn't possibly be the part of some clever play, but he
wanted to believe it so badly.

His mood was sour. He paced
Grimauld Place, which now felt just as much a prison as Azkaban had
ever been. He couldn't confront Snape. He couldn't protect Harry.
He was ordered to watch the house, like a good dog. Stay behind
while everyone else fights the good fight. It was torture.
Everything he cared about in life was slipping through his fingers.
If this was how his life was going to be, he sometimes thought,
'better that I should have died in the Department of
Mysteries, then. Better if he hadn't saved me.'
He knew he didn't really think that way, but how was he supposed to
reconcile his savior with the traitor? Snape could not possibly be
both men. What purpose would saving him have in the grand scheme, if
this is where it would end?

On the one hand, there was a man who saved his life, stayed beside
him day and night to nurse him back to health. Bitter, granted, but
brilliant and sarcastically witty, with a weakness for shortcake. On
the other hand, there was Dumbledore's assassin, Death Eater, spy,
double agent, traitor and tyrant. One person could not possibly be so
many things – but which ones were the truth, and which the
ploy? And that's when Sirius realized – even as a murderer he
was brilliant, even as a tyrant he was striking, even as a Death
Eater, Sirius still wanted him. Even the worst possible scenario was
still the man he loved. The knowledge filled him with a level of
despair even the Dementors hadn't been able to inflict.

To
Be Continued...
- 13
- 14
- 15
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