Devils and Angels

Lovers and Liars









Growl.



Silence.



Rumble.



More silence.



Growwwwwlll.



It was noon, and Snape awoke to a cacophony of sounds issuing forth from his stomach. He had been dreaming of a table heavily laden with food – hedonistically delicious food at that, and for some damned idiotic reason, he couldn’t move to get to it. As a result, he was not in a good mood at all when he opened his eyes, but his temper did improve considerably when tantalizingly wonderful aromas reached his nostrils. He stretched and rolled over, and found himself alone in the midst of tangled sheets. Kicking himself free of the twisted bed linens, he padded quickly to the bath to take care of his bodily needs, and then began to dress for the day.



Entering the upper hall, he paused to listen carefully to see if others than himself and Harry were there. Sensing none, and it really wouldn’t have mattered at that point if there were any others present, he swiftly descended the stairs for hunger pains began to start in earnest. He would have killed anyone that dared get between him and the table, including the Dark Lord. Following the almost hypnotic aroma to the kitchen he found Harry, who had his back to him, quietly cooking. Approaching and wrapping both arms about the smaller man’s waist, Snape began to nibble at the side of Harry’s neck.



Harry appreciated the attention, and he smiled when he heard stomach rumblings suddenly erupt behind him. “You really are starving aren’t you?”



“Definitely,” he murmured against Harry’s neck.



“What do you want?”



“Food.”



“Eloquent as always.”



“Touché,” Snape smirked into Harry’s tousled dark hair.



“Sit.”



Snape obediently moved to sit at the table, and inhaled the mouth-watering scents. A plate piled with steaming food entered into his vision, and soon was followed by the hand that placed it before him.



“Gods,” Snape breathed as he took in the sight of sausages, bacon, eggs, pancakes with syrup, and fruit as Harry joined him with his own plate. He never was one for eating large meals, much less muggle cuisine, but this time he indulged himself completely.



“Didn’t know I could cook, huh?” Harry asked.



“Mmmph,” Mouth full; Snape shook his head, clearly enjoying the repast before him.



“Well, if I had known how much you like to eat, I would’ve cooked for you long before now.”



Snape sputtered over a swallow of tea, and quickly recovered, “Don’t be vulgar.”



“Who me? Never!” Harry tried to look innocent, but the effort quickly failed when a broad grin etched itself across his face.



Severus looked over at him, “You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”



“Yes, I am. Because of you.”



“Harrumph,” The older man squirmed uncomfortably a bit, and then assumed a look of irritation, though he clearly felt none.



“What do you want to do today?” Harry asked in amusement as he watched Snape’s feigned annoyance.



“Hmmm, I don’t know as of yet. I haven’t really thought about it. Should I return to Hogwarts, and resume my dull yet safe routine, or should I stay here and risk Lupin and Black entering upon the scene and pounding the crap out of me?” He leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful. “Perhaps, I should return to Spinner’s End to await further risk?” Snape permitted one of his pregnant pauses to reign free for several seconds before continuing. “Then again, maybe I should tell them all to go to hell, and live according to my rules for once.”



“Would I be included in those rules?” Harry asked quietly.



The older wizard leaned forward across the table and gazed levelly at the younger before answering, “For as long as you want to be included in them, Harry.”



Harry reached over, and brushed a lock of hair from his newfound lover’s eyes. His fingers then grazed over Snape’s temple and lingered over the fine lines around those ebony orbs, and finally dropped to his lips. Severus quickly reached up and held them in place as he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into the palm of Harry’s warm hand.



“Youuuu, sick son-of-a-bitch,” The voice that uttered those words was dripping with malice.



Snape released Harry’s hand and opened his eyes, “Ah, so it begins.”



“Harry, I thought I’d come back and try to talk some sense into you – I should have known he was the cause that you’re confused. What’s the matter Snivellus, Voldemort getting too old for you?” Sirius Black asked with a venom-laced voice as he glared at Snape.



Severus’s face went pale, and not from fear, but with anger at the intrusion and accusations. He started to rise and reach for his wand, but Harry’s hand stayed him.



“I told you last night Sirius, my private life is my business – I don’t want to see you,” Harry stood, for this time he was not going to let his godfather see him become intimidated, or cowed by cruel words.



“Well, that’s just too bad, Harry. I just happen to own this place, and you have to see me. The only reason I left was to give myself time to calm down, and I came back here to give you another chance at reason.” His fists were balled tightly as he turned to Snape, “Get out of here while you can Snivellus, before I hurt you.”



“Black, don’t make any threats you don’t have the ability to back up,” Snape warned, then stood and reached a hand inside his robes for his wand. Once again, Harry’s hand shot out and stayed him.



“Harry, get your hand off of that trash!”



In one swift move, Harry rushed his godfather and wrapped his hands into his shirtfront as he pasted the wizard against the wall, “He’s not trash, Sirius! He never was,” he snarled into Black’s face. “Where were you when I was getting drunk and thinkin’ of ending it all? Huh? You didn’t care! None of you did! All you lot cared about and still do, is who is going to kill Voldemort for the Order so everyone but me, can live their happy little lives.”



“Harry.”



“I don’t want to hear it Sirius,” he abruptly let go, and pushed away from Black.



“Harry, don’t be like this. He’s not good for you – hell he’s not even good enough for himself. I’ll take you to St. Mungos – they can help you there, and in no time you’ll be back to your old self.”



“No,” Snape said flatly.



“You stay out of this Snape. You’ve done enough to him!” Sirius bellowed.



“No – I – will – not stay out of this. Harry will not go anywhere he doesn’t wish to, and if you try to force him – I will kill you. Make no doubt about that.”



“He’s not worth it Severus, none of them are,” Harry kicked the kitchen chair out of his way then stalked over and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s get out of here, I’ve had enough of this.” He whirled on Sirius and said, “You’ll be lucky if I ever speak to you again.”



“Don’t do this Harry,” Sirius gabbed him by the arm.



“I can and will. Everything you ever said about Severus has been nothing but mostly lies. You’ve fed me those lies to make yourself and the rest of the marauders look like angels, including my dad. Even if he did half the things you claim he has, it certainly doesn’t make you any better,” Harry jerked his arm free, and not looking back, walked out of number twelve Grimmauld Place for the last time.



Now that Harry wasn’t there to interfere, Snape in a dark billow of robes rushed Black back into the same wall, and cruelly jammed his wand into the base of the man’s throat. His teeth bared in rage, Severus leaned his face close to Black’s, and said in a menacing tone, “I can kill you – you know. I wouldn’t regret it either, but I won’t put you out of your misery because of Harry.”



Sirius struggled, and glared wildly at Snape. “Stay away from him you greasy bastard.”



Snape shoved Black deeper into the wall, as if trying to press him through to the other side. “It’s up to Harry to decide whether he wants me around or not, and I do believe at the moment he does. It is you who needs to stay away from him.”



“What the fuck do you care?” Sirius croaked since the wand was placed more firmly under his Adam’s apple.



“More than you will ever be able of comprehending with that narrow and extremely small canine mind of yours,” he twisted his fist into Black’s clothes and flung him roughly to the floor.



As Sirius raised his head to continue the argument, the door slammed shut in his face, cutting of any retort he might have had.



Snape found Harry standing at the end of the sidewalk with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. His face was threatening to crumple, and his green eyes were reddened with wounded tears that he refused to allow to fall as they dangled and glittered on the ends of his lashes. Severus reached up and clasped his large hand on the nape of Harry’s neck then pulled the tortured face to his black-clad shoulder, “What is it the American muggle films sometimes say? Oh – I remember. Let’s get the hell out of Dodge,” with that said, he apparated them to Spinner’s End.