Centre of Twilight

After some breakfast, Severus and Harry returned to bed and slept for another hour or so. Then, when they later awoke to find themselves ravenously hungry once more, the Potions master made them large, fluffy cheese omelettes - dotted with fresh chives and served with a mountain of hot toast and more fresh coffee.

They then spent the remains of a thoroughly lazy day doing nothing more taxing than sharing a long, hot bath, reading in quiet companionship and exchanging long, intense kisses. In truth, neither man could think of a better way to waste an entire day!

It turned out that, considering his harsh upbringing, Harry was surprisingly affectionate. He liked to be in frequent contact; the touch of a hand here, a soft kiss there. But that was fine, Severus thought, as Harry snuggled closer on the bed and rested his head against his shoulder. For a man who’d spent the last fifteen years deliberately shunning almost all physical contact, it was a comforting change to suddenly have a demonstrably affectionate young man sharing his life.

With only two armchairs and a mutual desire to be physically close to one another, they had agreed to bring their books in to Snape’s bedroom to read. And now, they lay fully clothed upon his bed; reading by the soft light.

“What time is it?” Harry asked, laying his book down.

Severus consulted his watch and quirked an eyebrow. “Nearly three o’ clock.” He smiled, “Why? Are you hungry again?”

“You make it sound as if all I want to do is eat.” Harry complained.

“When we both know that’s not true,” Snape smirked. “You like to kiss and play -”

“You are very cheeky, Professor Snape.” Harry reproved, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looked up into the man’s face, “Ten points from Slytherin, I think.”

Snape gave a little harrumph of mock indignation; “In that case, perhaps it should be ten points from Gryffindor for sheer nerve, because, as everyone knows, students can’t deduct points, Mr Potter.”

Harry grinned and rolled over; wriggling a bit so that he lay almost on top of the other man and could rest his chin on Snape’s chest. “Maybe I should deduct clothes instead of points, then?”

“You see?” the Potion exclaimed triumphantly, “You do only think of food or sex!”

“Hmm.” Harry pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. “You may be right,” he conceded and then allowed his grin to reappear, “but is that a bad thing?”

Severus’ eyes darkened with desire, although he didn’t answer. Not waiting for a response, though, Harry was already working on the row of buttons before him and, in no time at all, undid the man’s trousers too.

“And besides,” he said then, closing his fingers around the man’s hipbones, “there are so many things we haven’t done yet.”

“Like?” Sev breathed and then gasped as Harry ran his tongue from the very base of his cock to the already-leaking tip.

“Like that, for starters.” Harry smirked and then destroyed Severus’ ability to think by very nearly swallowing him whole.

*~*~*

Following their desperate flight from the cottage in Cumbria, Sirius and Remus had arrived at Number 12, Grimmauld Place and had set off the magical flare to Dumbledore as soon as they stepped inside.

Many things had changed within the house. Back in June, Remus, fuelled by grief and anger at having Sirius snatched away from him in the Department of Mysteries, had gone through his inherited dwelling like an avenging angel. The portrait of Mrs Black had proved impossible to remove – even by fire – so he had had a wall built over the top of her. The rest of the Black family’s possessions were long since gone – including Kreacher; packed off to Bellatrix Lestrange’s residence with an irremovable banishing hex, as well as an Obliteration spell to erase any troublesome memories being passed on to Voldemort’s supporters.

The ghastly, grim decorations had all been removed but there had been no time to replace any of them. Therefore, the walls were blank and cheerless; adding to the sombre mood of the two men and small boy.

“Daddy?” Oscar asked for what had to be the thousandth time.

“No.” Remus shook his head sadly, “No Daddy.”

“Daddy gone?” Oscar looked at the werewolf with a solemn expression and tears welled in Remus’ eyes. He blinked and looked across the kitchen table at where Sirius was alternately drinking Butterbeer and gnawing restlessly at his thumbnail. His blue-grey eyes met Remus’ though and, seeing his lover in such a state, he reached over and pulled Oscar into his lap.

“Let’s play a game while we’re waiting for Uncle Albus,” he forced a smile. “Do you know where your nose is?”

The little boy pointed immediately at the middle of Sirius’ face.

“No, that’s my nose.” Sirius smiled, “Where’s your nose?” And when Oscar pointed at his own nose, the man gave a much too excited whoop and clapped, drawing a delighted giggle from the boy.

“Now then,” Sirius calmed down, “where are your ears?”

And so the game continued and, having dried his eyes and pulled himself together, Remus began searching the pantry for whatever food might be left. There were sealed bags of flour, dried milk, tinned meat, tinned fish and various tins of fruit, vegetables and potatoes.

As he reported to Sirius all that he’d found, the dark haired man stared at him in amazement. “You bought all that?”

“No.” Remus shook his head, “Molly did it. I wasn’t really in the mood for forward planning at that time – I was more in Destruction/Obliteration mode.”

“Because…” Sirius started and then fell silent.

Remus nodded sadly, “Because I’d lost you.” He said very softly. “So Molly stocked up on a wide variety of essentials like food – both muggle and otherwise – Butterbeer, fresh linens…” he shrugged and then offered a rueful smile, “I do remember Arthur’s delight at discovering the tin-opener, though! Molly had to hide it in the end because he kept opening all the tins and not eating the contents.”

Sirius too smiled and then returned his attention to Oscar who was doggedly pointing at his own knees (the last part of the game).

“What’re we going to do with him?” Remus asked, sobering.

For a couple of minutes, Sirius made no response and then, giving the small boy an affectionate hug because he’d won almost the whole game, he looked at his lover and shrugged. “I don’t know, Moony. We don’t know where Thomas’ sister lives, the kid’s an orphan…Let’s ask Albus when he calls, okay?”

However, when Albus returned their call, he wasn’t able to offer much help.

“I think the best option would be to keep the child with you, for now.” He said seriously. “I’m sorry, but I can’t any longer. There’s been some…trouble…at Hogwarts and I’m afraid I can’t leave the school right now.”

“Trouble?” Sirius’ head came up as he leaned forward to look intently at the Headmaster, “Is it Harry? Is he all right?”

“He’s fine.” Dumbledore hurried to reassure the man, “There was an attack a few months ago -”

“Remus said,” Sirius nodded, glancing at his partner.

Dumbledore nodded too and then said, “Well, we learned recently who was behind that attack – and the initial attack on Draco Malfoy, as well. Those responsible have been expelled but I’m expecting a visit tomorrow morning from one of the children’s parents.”

“We understand, Albus.” Remus offered a wan little smile, “And we’re sorry for adding to your worries.”

“Nonsense.” The Headmaster shook his head, “You have nothing to apologise for. It was simply unfortunate timing. Now,” he looked seriously from one man to the other, “I cannot stress this enough: neither of you must leave the house – in any form. Whatever you hear, whatever might happen, do not leave the house! No one can reach you where you are but, if you set so much as one foot out the door, you run the risk of Death Eaters being able to find you. However,” he said then with a sigh, “because we cannot foresee every eventuality, take this,” he placed another magical flare on the floor, “and use it if you need me. If, in the unlikely event that you have to run again, make for Severus’ family home in Yorkshire.”

“Only if we have no other bloody option.” Sirius growled, drawing Oscar’s attention. Just as he had earlier that day with Thomas, the boy reached up to cover Sirius’ mouth, drawing a surprised laugh from the man.

“Bad word.” Oscar stated with a frown.

Dumbledore favoured the toddler with a broad smile and a friendly wink before looking to Remus and asking, “Is there anything else? Do you need anything?”

“We have enough food for a couple of days.” Remus shrugged, “There’s plenty of dried or preserved foods.”

“I’ll ask Molly if she can send you some home cooking,” the Headmaster smiled.

“Er…and nappies.” Sirius said, touching his damp jeans with a distressed frown. “It looks as though someone isn’t toilet-trained yet.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore responded, “Yes, I should have thought of that. He isn’t much more than a baby, is he?”

“Oscar big boy!” Oscar announced firmly, giving another little frown.

“There was no hope for his father?” Dumbledore asked sadly.

Remus shook his head; “They used the Killing curse on him before I even had a chance to grab him.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Moony.” Sirius pressed.

“Moony.” Oscar repeated, copying Sirius’ exact intonation.

“And Siri.” Remus smiled, pointing at his lover.

“Si-wi.” Oscar managed.

“I’ll leave you in peace,” Dumbledore interrupted then, “and I’ll have a word with Molly for you.”

*~*~*

Molly, apparently, was only too glad to assist the two men and sent baskets of bread, cakes, eggs and fresh milk, as well as nappies and clean clothes for Oscar.

‘Albus couldn’t tell me how old the little one was – or even an accurate description of how big he is,’ she wrote in the accompanying note, ‘so I’ve included a load of Ron’s old baby clothes, of varying sizes. Just send back whatever you don’t need. Also, do you need lessons in folding and fastening a nappy?’

“I know.” Remus said, having read that far, “My cousin, Alexandra, has kids. Although,” he picked up one of the white, terry cloths, “I’m beginning to understand why she switched to disposables.”

‘Make sure the child has plenty of milk, fruit and vegetables,’ Molly’s note went on, ‘and give him a bath at least once a day. In an emergency, call Albus and he’ll get a message to me. Apparently, it isn’t safe for us to have direct contact, however. Good luck, love Molly.’

“Well,” Sirius said, pulling out a pair of fresh pyjamas and looking at his lover, “we’d better get this little guy into bed, I guess.”

“No,” Oscar whined immediately, pushing out his bottom lip in a sulk, “want Daddy.”

Sirius sighed, scooping the boy up in his arms once more and headed for the hallway and stairs. “I’m sorry, Oscar,” he said as Remus followed him towards the stairs, “but it’s bedtime and Daddy isn’t here.”

This drew an even louder whine, which turned into angry tears when the toddler realised that his wishes weren’t going to be fulfilled. Not only did his father not materialise when called for, but also the two men insisted on changing his nappy, dressing him in strange pyjamas and putting him to bed. The only good thing, from Oscar’s point of view, was the Martin Miggs duvet cover that had once been Ron’s.

The day, however, had been long and tiring and it wasn’t long before Oscar settled.

“That was surprising,” Remus noted, sipping coffee in the drawing room and listening to the silence from the room along the landing, “I thought he’d create for much longer than that.”

“He’s knackered, poor kid.” Sirius responded, sinking to the floor between his lover’s feet. He reacted with a groan of pleasure as Remus’ fingers went to work, kneading the muscles in his neck and shoulders.

“You’re very good with him,” Remus commented, a few minutes later.

“Oscar? He and I are just on the same wavelength.” Sirius smiled, his eyes closed. “Do you remember Harry, when he was a baby? The way he started talking so early? He used to repeat the last word of every sentence.”

“I remember.” Remus nodded, “I also remember Lily going mental because Harry learned a particular word from his godfather.”

Sirius gave a short bark of laughter as he recalled it too. “Bugg’rit!” he nodded, remembering his godson’s favourite phrase.

*~*~*

On the Monday morning, when Harry woke to find himself once again in Severus’ bed, he also found himself to be alone.

Padding barefoot and yawning into the sitting room, he then discovered that Snape was already dressed and just finishing his second cup of coffee.

“You’re up early,” Harry remarked, sitting on the arm of Sev’s chair. “Did you forget that it’s the holidays?”

“No,” Severus replied, pouring a cup of coffee for the younger man, “I’m up because there are things I have to do.”

“Like what?” Harry asked, sipping his coffee.

“Shopping, for one thing.” The Potions master said. He got up and patted the inside pocket of his robes, checking that Draco and Harry’s envelopes were still there. The boys had written their shopping lists well before their break up and Severus was hoping that if they still exchanged presents, then they might just rebuild their friendship. However, he hadn’t yet decided if he wanted them to rebuild their relationship; this new…whatever it was…with Harry was special but also terribly fragile.

“Christmas shopping?” Harry’s eyes lit up, “Where? Hogsmeade?”

But Severus shook his head, “Diagon Alley, unfortunately. With only three days before Christmas Eve, the shops are going to be heaving with other late-minute shoppers.” He cast a pinch of floo-powder into the fireplace.

“Well, just don’t hex anyone too badly.” Harry grinned and stood up to kiss his lover goodbye. One kiss, however, wasn’t enough; two just led naturally to three and, if Severus hadn’t been distracted by the sound of his floo powder running out, one more would have led the two men straight back to bed.

“I’ll see you this evening,” he murmured, caressing Harry’s right cheek and then casting fresh floo powder into the fireplace again. In a flash of green flames, he was gone; leaving Harry to think about what to have for breakfast and how best to spend his day.

*~*~*

When Oscar fell asleep relatively quickly, that first night, Remus and Sirius should perhaps have realised that they were being lulled into a false sense of security. But, never having had sole charge of a child before, they could perhaps be forgiven for believing that the little boy would sleep all night.

At half past two in the morning, they were woken by the sound of Oscar crying and calling for ‘Aunt-Ali’ (presumably Thomas’ sister) and ‘Daddy’. After Sirius finally got him back to sleep at half past three, Oscar then woke up again at quarter past four; this time calling pitifully for ‘Mummy’.

On that occasion, Remus went in to him and at six o’ clock, when Sirius woke to find himself alone, he went into Oscar’s room and found his lover lying on the single bed with the little boy finally asleep in his arms.

“I was going to get up and come back to you,” Remus whispered, “but every time I moved, he woke up again.”

Sirius smiled and sighed sadly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and very lightly stroking the child’s hair. “He must be so screwed up.” He muttered darkly, “To lose his mum and then his dad – not to mention being taken away from his aunt in the middle of all that!”

“He keeps asking for something strange, too.” Remus noted softly. “Siri, have you ever heard of Tellytubbies?”

His lover frowned and shook his head. “Do you think they might be sweets or biscuits?”

Remus shrugged and shook his head too. “We could ask Dumbledore to ask Molly.” He suggested. “If we were allowed outside contact, I’d call Alexandra. I think it’s got to be a muggle thing, don’t you?”

Sirius nodded, looking nonplussed. “Shall I bring you some tea?” he asked then, changing the subject.

“That would be nice.” His lover smiled, “Could you bring some milk too? I think that, when I get up to drink my tea, Oscar will wake up too.”

Before Sirius had returned with a laden tea tray, however, Oscar was already awake and the first thing he asked, when Sirius came in, was, “Coco Pops?”

“Milk.” Sirius responded solemnly, handing over a covered beaker from Molly. This seemed to suffice, however, because Oscar accepted the drink without any fuss.

After getting up, the two men had a real struggle to get Oscar into the bath. Then, half an hour later, they had an even bigger fight getting him out.

“More bath! More bath!” Oscar yelled as the last of his bath water vanished down the plughole. Then, when Remus put a new nappy and fresh clothes on him, he proceeded to scream the house down.

“Gods, if anyone heard him, they’d think we were murdering him.” Sirius muttered, wrestling the small boy into a sweatshirt, whilst keeping him from kicking off a pair of trousers. “Oscar, Oscar, where are your toes?” he cried in an attempt to distract the toddler.

It worked. As if flicking a switch, Oscar suddenly calmed and pointed angelically at his small, pink feet.

“Ears.” Oscar then pointed at Sirius’ ears as Remus escaped to go and get dressed.

“Hm…very sore with all your screaming.” The man replied and moved to put a pair of socks on. This didn’t go down well and resulted in another battle of wills: when Sirius was putting on one sock, so Oscar pulled off the other and this went on and on and on. In the end, however, it turned into a game with the boy shrieking with delighted laughter every time he pulled off his sock and dropped it with wilful glee onto the floor.

“Is he not dressed yet?” Remus demanded, appearing in the bathroom doorway. In response, he was softly thwopped across the nose with a small, blue sock.

*~*~*

It was quite by accident, however, that they found an immediate, dependable solution to Oscar’s tantrums. During breakfast, when the child seemed thoroughly disgusted by anything that Remus put in front of him, Oscar lobbed his porridge bowl straight at Sirius’ face. And Sirius, as was his instinct, responded to the threat of pain or animosity by transforming into his animagi self.

The appearance of a large, black dog in the kitchen instantly drew a hushed silence from the small boy. He beckoned with sticky fingers and large, trusting eyes and Padfoot crept cautiously forward.

“Padfoot,” Remus introduced, as soon as he’d adjusted to the sudden calm.

“Pa’foot.” Oscar repeated, very seriously. He ran the same sticky fingers over the dog’s long muzzle and then beamed when a long, pink tongue came out to lick them clean. What surprised both Remus and Sirius (or Padfoot) was when Oscar then very calmly pointed at the dog and said clearly, “Si-wi.”

*~*~*

Severus was really doing rather well and he was, privately, quite pleased with all that he’d managed to do so far. Harry’s list of shops – neatly written on the outside of the envelope – was all ticked off and he already had half of Draco’s…

He paused outside the Apothecary’s shop and frowned at the list. Draco had requested something from the Hillary Enscendra Jewellers. It was an exorbitantly over price shop and was located at the very far end of Knockturn Alley. Was this a gift for Harry? And if so, what did that mean?

‘Draco?’ he sent the thought out, stepping carefully out the way of a group of chattering old ladies. He waited and then, sounding as if he was right next to him, Draco replied.

‘Severus? Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ Snape responded, pleased that the boy was no longer blanking him. ‘I’m shopping and I have your list. Do you still want me to go to Hillary Encendra’s?’

‘Oh!’ the slightly echoey voice came back, sounding surprised. ‘Um…yes…please. I’d forgotten about that, but yes, thank you.’ There was a pause then before he asked very quietly, ‘Is Harry with you?’

‘No.’ Severus responded, ‘That wouldn’t be a good idea.’

‘I suppose not.’ Draco agreed and then, after an even longer pause, he said, ‘I can feel your emotions, you know.’

‘Even from up there in Scotland?’ Severus asked carefully.

‘Mmm…and it’s okay, you know?”

‘What is?’

‘That you love him.’ Came the reply and then there was nothing; once again, Draco had closed his thoughts away.

*~*~*

Perhaps it was because of Draco’s words or maybe Severus would have been preoccupied by thoughts of his young lover anyway, but the simple fact of the matter was that his mind wasn’t on his current situation. And when one is walking down Knockturn Alley, it is very unwise to let your mind wander.

But Severus couldn’t stop thinking about Harry…and Draco…and whether he was in some way responsible for them no longer being together. Whilst their argument had been entirely separate from him, had he subconsciously encouraged them to part? Perhaps by sending Draco away to the library where he met with Goyle? Or perhaps by sleeping with Harry, another part of him queried, and further pushing in the wedge?

So it was some surprise that Severus found himself outside the exclusive little jewellery store, staring blankly at a heavy necklace, studded with rubies and a note, claiming that it was cursed in 1617. Well, he thought to himself, what did you expect from a jewellers in Knockturn Alley?

“Great Merlin!” a woman’s voice declared as soon as he stepped over the threshold, “Severus Snape, what on earth are you doing here?”

Looking across to where a woman in deep red shawls and crushed velvet robes was sweeping towards him, Severus struggled to remember her name. “Angel Serufi.” He forced a thin-lipped smile.

The woman had been in his year at Hogwarts; another Slytherin, she had tried anything possible to take Col away from him.

“Uh-uh!” She shook her head to the sound of tiny, tinkling bells; “I’m Hillary Encendra now.”

Snape raised one eyebrow in mild curiosity and decided not to comment on the overly familiar arm that the woman looped through his.

“I bought the shop and the name came with it,” she shrugged, giving a rustle of rich fabrics. “The old dear who owned it wasn’t the original Hillary Encendra either but it’s all tied up in the magical contract and that’s that. Come and have a sherry – we must catch up!”

She hadn’t changed an enormous amount, Severus thought as she chattered away to him. She still had the thick, lustrous curls in the darkest mahogany and hopelessly long eyelashes over clever, bright eyes. She had, of course, filled out a little over the years but time had been kind to her and she had curves in all the right places.

“…And so, after my third husband died, silly old sod,” Angel – or rather, Hillary – went on, “I used the inheritance to buy this lovely little place. Cheers!” She smiled, handing him a large glass of sherry and clinking her own glass against it.

As she turned to place her glass on the counter, Severus caught again the sound of tiny bells and then realised that she wore long, dangly earrings, made up of diamonds and miniscule gold bells.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” she asked, pushing back her wealth of hair to show him better. At the same time, as she leaned forward, she also gave the Potions master a view of her not-inadequate cleavage.

Snape leaned back, wondering how on earth he’d managed to get himself into this mess. Oh yes, he thought sourly, he’d been daydreaming about Harry. Damned fool.

“So, my dear,” Hillary trilled, “what are you doing now? Last I heard you were working for that other old bastard, Dumbledore.”

Severus said nothing but reached silently into his inner robe pocket and retrieved Draco’s envelope, handing it to the woman in the hope that she’d serve him and let him escape without any further discourse.

“Mmm…” Hillary made an impressed little noise as she read the note from Draco. “I’ll just fetch this and wrap it,” she said and disappeared through a small door behind the counter.

While she was gone, Severus lifted his glass of sherry and sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled all right – no obvious scents of poison or toxic potions – but still, Severus Snape wasn’t about to do anything so moronic as accept a drink in this neck of the woods!

“Here we are,” Hillary called, reappearing a few minutes later with a neatly wrapped parcel, about three inches square, “I’ll charge it to the Malfoy account?”

In all honesty, Snape hadn’t considered how Draco was going to pay for his gifts but, he thought, even if Lucius hadn’t closed his account, it wouldn’t be good for the young man to be indebted to his father. So instead, he shook his head and asked Hillary to charge it to his own account – he’d sort things out with Draco at some point but it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to give his ward an allowance.

Then, accepting the little parcel and slipping it into his pocket, he opened his mouth to bid a short (and possibly sharp) farewell.

“I always wondered,” Hillary began, cutting in and looking at him shrewdly as she stepping closer to retrieve her sherry, “what happened to you when the Dark Lord fell. Of course,” she continued cautiously, “many of us were forced to keep ourselves to ourselves. But we knew he’d return – or at least, some of us did.” She reached over then and boldly stroked one hand over Snape’s left forearm, pressing just on the place where the Dark Mark was hidden beneath his robes. Her long-lashed eyes fluttered open and she gazed earnestly into his face.

Her eyes, Snape considered absently, were an unusual green: dark, shadowed and…flickering. Like green gemstones seen under water, the irises changed hue, as if shadows were passing over them.

“You haven’t drunk your sherry,” Hillary breathed. Her breath was sweet in Severus’ nostrils and he didn’t realise until then, just how close she was.

Unfortunately, he didn’t realise either that someone else was now in the shop with them…