Love and Loss

A/N: Written for a friend of mine who wanted Severus/Sirius - my first time writing these two, so please tell me what you think of it... if it's good, that's great. If it's not, well, I don't have any plans on writing these two again if I can help it, anyway. lol.

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The scene replayed itself in his head, over and over. The sense of failure, of remorse, of grief rose up over him like a tidal wave threatening to pull him out to a sea of madness that there would be no rescue from. All he could think of was finding Lily there, eyes wide and staring at him. It almost seemed as if she was accusing him of failing them. Her limbs had been in an ungainly sprawl, red gold hair tangled and lying on her face and spilling off onto the quietly sobbing form of young Harry. A quick Floo to Hagrid took care of his godson and he staggered out into the night, flinging up a protective arm across his eyes against the poisonous green blaze of the Dark Mark. James, gone. Lily, gone. He stumbled over a tree root concealed by shadows and fell to his knees heavily.

His entire body felt as if it weighed more than stone – what, really, was the use of trying to stand? Sirius stretched out onto the hard packed earth, feeling the prickle of grass beneath his unshaven cheek and trying to reassure himself that he, like the ground underneath his body, was still alive. He stayed there, mind awash in guilt and loss, until he heard the sound of Apparation – Hagrid, his mind qualified the new visitor. Sirius pushed to his feet, somehow managing to instruct the half-giant to take his motorbike and take Harry someplace safe. As the bike roared off with its precious burden, he tried to focus his mind on something, anything. Only one face surfaced in his memory when he tried to think of where he could go – he needed to get away from this, needed to think about what had happened and, more importantly, how Voldemort could have possibly gotten the Potter’s Secret Keeper to talk.

He entered the Potter’s home for the last time, walking past Lily’s body and trying not to look at her face as he went to the fireplace and threw another handful of dull green powder in the fireplace. “Spinner’s End,” he called, stepping through. He emerged from the emerald flames into the dingy front room of the run-down house and made his way into the living area where he came face to face with the man he’d come to see. Snape hadn’t noticed him yet; he looked as if he’d just come in the front door and Sirius’ stomach lurched alarmingly as he realized just what Severus was taking off of his shoulders….a Death Eater’s cloak. Without realizing it, he let out a low whimper at the sight of the long black robes and the gold mask whose edge could just be glimpsed in the pocket.

Severus whirled to face him, his face paling. “Sweet Merlin, Sirius…what are you doing here?” he asked harshly. Stepping in front of the cloak as if to hide it from sight. As if he felt guilty.

“You should be,” Sirius rasped.

Severus’ pale brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?” he asked carefully, dark eyes fixed upon him as he stepped forward with his hands held out, almost in the same manner one would approach a frightened animal.

Sirius edged away from him, shaking his head. “Don’t – don’t touch me,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly hysterical edge. He kept backing away until his heel struck the wall, and his back touched the ripped and faded yellow wallpaper. Some sort of flowered pattern that had gone out of fashion twenty years past, he had memories of teasing Severus about that paper. Memories of being the one who had torn it, nails digging into it helplessly when the pleasure grew too great to stand. “No…no, no, no,” he screamed as Severus darted at him suddenly and grasped his arms. He struggled against the other wizard’s grasp and after several things were swept from their shelves and had made satisfactory shattering sounds in accompaniment to the agonizing grinding of the pieces of his heart, he felt the fight slowly begin to ebb from his limbs and he collapsed on the orange shag carpeting, allowing Severus to pull him into his arms for comfort where he howled his grief and loss. “No,” he sobbed.

When the storm of his grief had passed – it would never completely leave him, he knew that…of course he knew!- he came to himself to find Severus stroking his hair and rocking him as if he were a child, murmuring words of love and comfort in that deep, calming voice. He allowed himself to be carried up the stairs, undressed, and put into bed. When Severus stood to leave, he caught the man’s arm with his hand. “Stay with me?” he asked. “I need…I need…”

“Of course,” Severus assured, disrobing silently and slipping under the covers with him.

In the morning when Sirius woke, Severus was still fast asleep beside him. The events of the previous night came rushing back into his mind, and the question that had haunted him suddenly resolved itself. Of course. Anger replaced shock and he lurched from the bed to find his clothes while Severus sat up, blinking sleepily in the predawn light. “Where are you going?” he asked, watching Sirius pull on his boots.

“I have a rat problem to take care of.”

END