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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter
17

'You know, with all this time people keep giving me to think, I
ought to become smarter,' Sirius
thought, trapped within Snape's binding spell and sprawled in the
bushes. 'But I guess I never spend much time thinking
about that sort of nerdy stuff.'
No, he just spent all of it thinking about Severus Snape. He'd spent
the past twenty minutes lingering on how bittersweet that last kiss
was, how final, and how much he hated that finality. He wanted
nothing more than to chase the man down, but he knew that his
misbegotten romance with Severus Snape was hardly what he ought to be
thinking about now. What was happening at the castle? Was Harry
okay? Those were the things he should be focusing on, and yet, if he
didn't think about Snape now, who would? Harry had his friends to
keep him safe, and the members of the Order to watch his back. But
no one was watching Snape's back. He wasn't really a likeable sort of
man. Sirius liked him, but only after he'd really gotten to know
him, taken the time to figure him out.

'Did it all backwards though, didn't I? Arse-end first. But just
because I fell for his body before I fell for him doesn't mean that's
all he is to me. I want to prove that to him. I want the chance
to prove it.' And for
that, he knew, they both had to live through this battle.

When he was finally able to move his
body again, he sat up just in time to see Harry and his friends
rushing out of the Shrieking Shack. Harry looked pale, but otherwise
seemed to be doing just fine. That was a relief. But Harry looked
back at the Shrieking Shack, just the once, and Sirius found his
blood run cold. That haunted look in Harry's eyes. It was almost as
if...'As if he's just seen someone be killed. Severus!'

The trio, leaving the Shrieking Shack now and headed back toward the
castle, didn't notice Sirius – cursing the bloody dress for
getting in the way of his running faster – hurried into the
shack they'd just left.

The scene before him was gruesome.
A bloody mess an Severus Snape's limp body on the floor. No.
“No! Severus!” He ran to the body and rolled it onto his
back. “Severus, please. Can you hear me?” But there was
no response. He had to stop the bleeding somehow, but healing magic
had never been his strong point and he didn't want to make things
worse. He tore at the man's robes to get a better look at his
injuries, and brass buttons scattered with clinks and clatters about
the floor. Severus's throat was gushing blood.

Sirius tore at the bountiful skirt he was wearing to put pressure on
the wound and stop the blood flow. “Please, Severus...don't
die. You can't be dead...” By the third blood-soaked wad of
cloth he was in tears. “Please hold on...”

It took most of the skirt, but the
bleeding finally slowed. Sirius knew that wasn't as promising as it
sounded. It meant Snape was probably dangerously low on blood
altogether, but he tore bits out of the lower half of the chemise now
for a makeshift bandage. Having a better look at the wound now that
there wasn't blood everywhere told him in no uncertain terms it had
to have been made by Voldemort's killer snake. 'Which means
he's probably also been poisoned. Another thing I'm not really sure
what to do about.' He dug
through Snape's tattered robes for anything he had in his pockets.
He knew the man usually carried all manner of things in the flowing
cloak – potions and remedies for all sorts of ailments. Maybe
he had something that could help, something Sirius would be able to
identify. Severus was always prepared for anything. Surely,
standing in the middle of a battlefield, he'd have something in his
pockets for any possible contingency.

Vials of all colors clattered to the floor as Sirius dug about,
watching in horror as the makeshift bandage started to show a dark
spot where the blood was soaking through. It was in the pocket of
Snape's trousers that he found it: a bezoar. A bloody bezoar! What
kind of lunatic carries bezoars around with him? But it was
brilliant.

'Except for one problem – with that neck wound, he won't be
able to swallow it. It's far too big.'
Well, there was only one thing to do then. 'I'll have to
chew it for him.' Yes, it was
disgusting. He would have to chew the bezoar and sort of...spit it
into Severus's mouth. But damn it, this was the man he loved, and no
price was too high if it meant saving his life, if there was any life
left to save, but it never crossed Sirius's mind to check for a
pulse. He had to be alive, because, well, he just had to.
He popped the bezoar in his mouth and chomped down on it.
Disgusting. There was a reason these things were generally swallowed
whole. He'd never tasted anything more foul in his life, and he'd
eaten a number of unsavory things after his escape from Azkaban, but
he managed to keep himself from gagging and pressed on.

'Come on, Sev. Swallow it. Please swallow it.'

That's when the most miraculous
thing happened: Severus Snape opened his eyes. It was only for a
moment, but Sirius saw it. He must look a wreck – his clothes
and hands covered in blood, make-up streaking down his face from
crying, and his hair tangled wildly, but he grinned when he saw those
dark eyes half open. “Hey,” he whispered.

Then Snape's eyes closed again. 'Is
he crying for me? Why?' And
then it came back to him with the sharp pain in his neck. 'Bloody
hell, I'm alive?' It couldn't
be. There was a horrid taste in his mouth, which was terribly dry,
and he couldn't really move his head. Even the slightest muscular
twitch was agony, but he felt Sirius's hands on him, and here in the
Shrieking Shack that brought back very pleasant memories.

Unable to hold onto consciousness
long in the midst of such agony, he slipped into sleep, and for the
first time in many years, he dreamed. He felt Sirius with him and
dreamed of walking down the beach with the man. They weren't talking
or holding hands, just walking in a rather companionable silence.
Things rushed past them – images – but they didn't
matter. He hardly notice them. There was the boyish face smiling at
him, hands running down his body, the feeling of arms wrapped around
him in the afterglow of sex...warm, hearty laughter. When his memory
found its way back, yet again, to the night James had saved his life,
he saw the prank now for what it was – an act of desperation,
Sirius's clumsy way of begging not to be cast aside. He turned and
embraced the man beside him tightly, but Sirius was no longer Sirius.
It was Voldemort. Severus screamed and shoved him away, began
running, but then there was Sirius again, standing before the thin
veil in the Death Chamber. He didn't want to die, but he ran forward
toward the man he loved anyway, held him tightly, drank in the scent
of him. 'Stay with me. Don't go.'

Sirius smiled softly. “Isn't that my line?” he asked.

Severus smiled against the other man's shoulder. “Then say
it, you fool.”

“I love you, Severus Snape.”

“I love you too, Sirius Black.”

He awoke again, briefly, but it was agony. Everything ached, except
that there was a warm hand holding tightly to his own, and he drifted
into dreams again.

To
Be Continued...
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Best Served Cold