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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter
9

Sirius didn't know what bothered him more – that nothing had
changed between Snape and himself in the past months working together
with the Order, or how badly he wanted it to. All the time he had
virtually alone in Grimauld Place to think about it didn't help, and
his constant worrying over Harry didn't help either. He was trapped
here, unable to do anything because he was still, technically, a
fugitive. After Azkaban he'd wanted little more than revenge, and
once he'd had that, freedom. He hadn't achieved either, and being
trapped in his ancestral home did little to help his mood.

There had been Christmas, of course. That had been nice – and
the house looked so cheery with all the baubles and pine that he'd
refused to take down the tree until it was well and fully dead. (And
he'd cast a number of charms on it to prevent that from happening).
The Christmas Tree taking up half of his living room was the one
bright spot in the dismal place and he planned to enjoy it for as
long as magically possible. It was the one pleasure in life he had,
so no one had the heart to tell him how juvenile his behavior was.

In the end, every time Snape walked into the house, it ended with
bitter sarcasm and cruel jokes. Sirius took a some small pride in
the fact that of the dozens of fights they'd had, he only started
half of them, and no actual hexing was involved, but that wasn't good
enough. He had spent so long hating Severus for stupid things –
running off when things started to get a little serious, blaming him
for what happened to James and Lily, being weak, being a git in
general – he was tired of all of it. After twelve years in
Azkaban, none of it seemed to matter.

He sighed. Remus came around the corner and held out a cup of tea.

“No chance that it's half rum is there?” Sirius asked,
taking the glass and swirling it in the cup.

“Sorry, you finished the rum off yesterday.”

“Damn.”

They sat quietly together for a while before Remus said, “I
always thought it was a phase you were going through, but it's not a
phase, is it, Sirius?”

“You know, you've started rambling in your old age, Moony.”

Remus gave him a gentle smile. “You know what I'm talking
about, Sirius. I see the way you look at him when you think no one
will notice – like you don't know whether to laugh or cry.
When we were in school I thought it was just one of your obsessive
phases. I was sure you would get over it in no time. But you never
got over it, did you?”

Sirius glowered at him. “You know, after more than a decade,
you really should have lost your touch at reading my moods,” he
complained. “I just keep thinking about how we were all stupid
arseholes back then. What a bastard he was, what a git I was, what a
whore you were,” he smirked teasingly at the last. “And
how we've all grown up but mostly haven't changed.”

“I am no longer a whore, thank you very much,” Remus
griped playfully.

“Oh no? You think I don't see the way you look at Tonks when
you think no one is looking? Like you're thinking something
particularly X-rated and trying to keep it in your pants.” He
nudged Remus with an elbow.

Remus paled a bit. “I...It's not...”

“Never mind, old friend. I'm glad someone's finally managed to
catch your eye long enough to earn a starring role in all of your
dirtiest thoughts. I hope for her sake that she can keep it.”

“And what about you, Sirius?”

Sirius shrugged. “Not much to say. He's still a bastard. I'm
still a git. If there was ever any chance of us well and truly
falling for one another, I threw it away that night at the Whomping
Willow. I just keep thinking about the what ifs, that's all. What if
I hadn't lured him there? What if we'd really talked, sat down, had
it all out? That night changed everything. What if I was the one
who pushed him over the edge? If I hadn't, would he still have become
a Death Eater? Would James and Lily have died? I know you'll say I
shouldn't blame myself. I'm not, exactly. In the end, no one's
really ever to blame, and at the same time, everyone is, because you
can always trace everything that happens back to something you did,
or ignore that and lay it all on someone else.” He sighed. “I
guess what I'm trying to say is just that fate isn't always kind, but
I'm okay, Remus. Really. You don't need to worry about me.”

“Sirius, you do know, don't you? If I'd had any idea back then
that there was something real between the two of you, I'd have gladly
stepped aside. I just thought you were, you know, experimenting. We
were kids, we all experimented back then.”

“Except James,” Sirius grinned.

“Well, he was too busy experimenting with being an arsehole to
worry about whether or not he wanted to be inside of one,”
Remus joked lewdly.

A loud bark of laughter escaped Sirius's lips. It was so rare for
Remus to lower himself to dirty jokes that when he did they were
twice as funny as they ought to be and instantly lightened the mood.

That's when the firecall came. Sirius scrambled to the fireplace and
looked down to see, yep, none other than Severus Snape staring up at
him. He looked particularly annoyed for a man who had grown up to be
so talented at concealing his emotions. “Snape?”

“Black. So you aren't being tortured to your untimely demise
after all, hm? I presumed as much. Listen closely, I only have time
to say this once. Your idiot godson has let Voldemort implant false
information into his mind in order to lure him to the Department of
Mysteries. He is no doubt on his way there as we speak, walking
directly into a trap because he can't bear to pull his head out of
his posterior long enough to actually think. I suggest you
contact the Order quickly, most preferably before the boy gets
himself killed.”

Severus ended the call before Sirius could respond. He'd like to go
on a tirade about Severus being an insensitive jerk, but it would
have to wait. Harry was in trouble, and he was not going to be
left behind this time. Harry was his godson and he'd never be able to
face James and Lily in the afterlife if he didn't protect him. Sure,
everyone thought he was irresponsible, reckless, and childish, but he
was very serious about taking care of Harry, rescuing him from those
muggles he'd heard such horrible stories about. For the moment
though, rescuing him from Voldemort was far more important.

*

Snape had gotten rather used to living without a plan and coming up
with ideas at the last possible moment. That didn't mean he didn't
hate it. It certainly didn't mean he was any less on edge hiding in
the shadows, trying to figure out how to help without appearing to be
helping at all. Black would no doubt insist he was being a cowardly
Slytherin slinking about like this, but reason and common sense had
never been among Sirius Black's more pronounced qualities. Sirius
was like a stormy sea – beautiful, but dangerous. Twelve years
in Azkaban hadn't changed him at all. Well, he was a bit scruffier,
but that suited him. 'And why the hell are you thinking about
Sirius Black at a time like this, Severus? Focus. If you're to be of
any use here, you'll have to use the chaos to your advantage, strike
before you're seen, and strike when neither side can identify the
source of whatever spell you cast. That is the only way you'll be
able to help that insufferable brat now.'

He saw Remus artfully deflect a stinging hex, saw Lucius approaching
Harry. His fingers clenched around his wand. It was hard to
concentrate over the cacophonous Bella and, once again, Sirius Black
biting back sharp-witted replies in tandem. That's when he saw it –
the hex that Black missed. The body falling towards the Death Veil.
He didn't think. He pointed his wand and hissed out a projectile
spell. It knocked Sirius just off target and he landed in a heap
beside the gateway.

*

Sirius felt the stunning spell hit his chest. He was falling.
Something cool and soft was coming up behind him, then something hot
and hard pierced his shoulder. As he flipped head over foot and
landed on his back he just barely caught a glimpse of black, bat-like
robes disappearing through a door. 'Severus?' He groaned,
trying to will his body to move. He had Mad-Eye to thank for a swift
and well-placed levicorpus that sent Bella flying into the air, wand
slipping from her fingers. His eyes rolled back to the Veil behind
him. He could feel blood pooling around his shoulder. Whatever that
spell was, it hurt like hell. He would have to thank Snape for it
later.

As his head lolled back weakly and the chaos faded, he heard Harry
crying out his name.

He could sense people moving around him, and wanted to tell them to
stop touching his shoulder – it bloody hurt damn it! - but
couldn't seem to muster energy enough to open his eyes, let alone
speak.

“Calm down, Harry,” Remus was saying. “He's only
fainted,” but it sounded like he was talking underwater. It all
seemed murky. He groaned, but he didn't know if the sound actually
escaped his lips.

*

Sirius didn't know how much time had passed when he awoke, but he had
a feeling quite a bit given how thirsty he was. He startled and
jolted upright, half-expecting to still be in the middle of a battle,
but yelped as pain blossomed in his shoulder.

“Sirius!”

A hand pushed him firmly back against the bed. Bed? Oh, he must be
back home. Sure enough, he opened his eyes to the all too familiar
canopy frame he'd stared at his entire young life, and a ceiling
badly in need of a decent paint job. White, maybe, brighten the place
up a bit. He blinked a bit of fogginess out of his mind as he felt
steady fingers patting something against his aching shoulder, and
squeezed his eyes shut against the pain of his various bruises, as he
felt a sort of coolness surrounding the shoulder wound, taking some
of the fire away but leaving a dull muscle ache behind.

“Severus?” he croaked.

“He just left,” Remus whispered, putting the salve the
Potions Master provided onto the nightstand and carefully wrapping
the bandages back around his friend's shoulder.

“Remus,” Sirius acknowledged and opened his eyes again,
turning his head toward his friend.

Remus offered him a gentle smile. “Your carelessness is going
to give me a heart attack one of these days, my friend. We nearly
lost you through the Veil. If a misfired spell didn't knock you off
target, we would have.”

'It wasn't a misfire, Rem. It was Him, I know it.”

Remus offered a soft smile that Sirius knew translated as 'wishful
thinking'.

“Him who?” a voice on the other side of the bed asked,
and Sirius suddenly realized someone there was gripping his hand
rather firmly.

He rolled his head to the side with a faint smile. “Harry.”

Harry looked positively stricken, like he wanted to say a thousand
things, all of them starting with 'I'm sorry' or 'Oh thank Merlin',
but didn't know which one to start with.

“Remus, my friend, can you leave Harry and I alone for a bit?”

“Of course, Sirius.”

When Remus reached the door Sirius added, “When you come back,
bring water.” His stomach rumbled rather loudly. “...and
snacks.”

Remus smiled wider this time and gave a curt nod before excusing
himself.

“Help me sit up, Harry.” The hex Bellatrix hit his
stomach with stung when he was less horizontal, but it wasn't too
painful. Harry settled every pillow he could reach behind his
godfather. Sirius smirked at him. “Perhaps now you have a bit
of an idea of how your friends feel when you pull death-defying
stunts, hm?”

“Not like it's my fault,” Harry muttered. “If I
didn't have a psycho trying to kill me...”

Sirius pat his hand. “Did Severus bring that by?” he
asked, nodding to the bottle of salve and two bottles of clear green
potion on the nightstand.

Harry nodded. “He heard about what happened. You have to take
the potions with food, or something. He wrote instructions.”

“Thoughtful of him,” Sirius answered blandly. Inside,
there was a little bubble of joy in spite of the brutal way Severus
chose to save his life. The fact that he'd chosen to save it at all,
and now was leaving him things to help him heal was more than enough
to keep Sirius content in spite of his various aches and pains.

“If you say so...” Harry hedged.

“I know how you feel about Severus, Harry. I understand it,
trust me. But even if he's a bastard, he's still a good man.
Try to cut him a little slack. ...and if you ever tell him I
said that, I'll hex you so properly that you'll spend the remainder
of your Hogwarts career in St. Mungo's. Understood?”

Harry grinned. He was so happy to see Sirius conscious and cracking
jokes. But that opened up the opportunity for something he'd been
wondering about for a while now. “What's the deal with you and
Snape, anyway?”

It was confusing. Sirius and Snape acted like they loathed one
another, but in the two days that Sirius had been unconscious, Snape
had been there beside his bed healing his wounds and brewing potions
to help with the pain in the kitchen. He'd only left a short while
ago. And Sirius, while unconscious, had moaned Snape's name a few
times in his sleep. And just now, that Remus was beside him when he
woke instead of Snape... he'd almost seemed a little disappointed.
Had Harry imagined it?

Sirius gave him a sort of sad smile and pat Harry's hand. “You've
only been told half the story,” Sirius answered. “But
the other half is personal, so you'll have to forgive me for keeping
it to myself.”

“Sirius?”

“Sufficed to say, there was a time in my life when nothing
brought me greater joy than the time I spent with Severus.” He
laughed at the shocked expression on Harry's face and hissed,
bringing his hand to his stomach but, touching the wound hurt more
than the laughter did. “That shocking, is it?” he said
tiredly.

“But you, a-and Snape, I mean, you...and your room...” he
gestured meekly at the muggle poster with its bikini babes and just
the general young Gryffindor-ness.

Sirius shrugged. “Sometimes, people surprise you,” he
answered. “Severus is not an easy man to get to know, but I
think it is the parts of ourselves we hide from the world that say
the most about who we are. I was fascinated by how closely he
guarded his secrets. I wanted to unravel all of them, but fate was
not so kind as to let me. In any case, Severus never stopped
surprising me. I adored him for that, but the feeling was never
mutual. And so it remains.”

“Sirius, uhm...” Harry looked as though his brain was
about to implode. It was like the boy found Severus so loathsome
that he couldn't bring himself to imagine that anyone could ever
fancy him, especially someone as awesome as his godfather.

“I think I'd like to rest a while longer, Harry. Tell Remus to
wait a while before bringing the food, hm?”

“Y-yeah. Okay,” Harry nodded dumbly and made his way
woodenly toward the door. He paused there and looked over his
shoulder. He bit his lip. “He was here, you know. The past
two days, you've been out cold, and he was here taking care of you
the whole time. He only left about half an hour ago.”

When the door closed Sirius let his head fall back against the
pillows. 'Two days. Wasn't it dangerous for him to be away that
long?' But he couldn't deny he felt warm and bubbly in his chest
to know that Severus, who he was sure had saved his life in the
Department of Mysteries, had then spent the past two days making
certain it was properly safe. He imagined the distinguished man
leaning over him, checking over his wounds, touching him. 'And I
was bloody unconscious and couldn't enjoy any of it,' he sulked.

But it was a good sign, he decided. Severus didn't completely loathe
him. 'I could try to flirt a little, maybe, and see how he reacts
next time.' He knew people would say they were in the middle of
a war, that it was no time for romance, but if not now, then when?
Snape would only be coming around as long as there was Order business
to deal with. This was the only second chance he was going to get.
There wouldn't be a third. He had to make the best of it while he
had it.

To
Be Continued...
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Best Served Cold