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hp_goldenageTitle: Into Oblivion (2/2)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
llaeyro
Characters/Pairings: Severus Snape/Sirius Black
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~15k
Content/Warning(s): Major character death, assisted suicide, progressive disease, anal sex (prior to symptoms), ER, AU—Sirius and Severus live and Harry names his second child Albus Remus, otherwise EC.
Prompt: They've been together for a very long time, lived a good long life but in their twilight years, one of them falls terminally ill. Towards the end they're in incredible pain and want nothing more than release from what has become a miserable existence for both of them.
A/N: This is part 2 of 2. Read part 1 here.
*~*
Before.
Merlin’s beard, what is it with my husband and first times? I do not understand his logic. Of all the weekends that we looked after our grandchildren, of all the times we took them to the park, he has to pick this disastrous playdate? It is the first occasion on which I have met the children, and my discomfort could not be more apparent.
The wizarding playpark, funded by Harry, was so new at the time that we were the only family in it. He wanted his children to have the opportunities he was denied whilst growing up. When he discovered that there was no such thing as a wizarding park, he built one. To Muggles, it is an abandoned plot of land.
Sirius is sat on the bench, passing finger food to Lily as she sits happily in her pushchair. Teddy, James and Albus are perched beside Sirius, stuffing their faces with crisps and the like while I stand off awkwardly to the side. Teddy gets up, wiping his greasy hands carelessly on his trousers.
“Uncle Sirius, I’m going on the monkey bars.”
“Me too!” James shouts out, sliding off the bench and shoving his last handful of crisps into his mouth in one go.
“Hang on!” Sirius calls out, ineffectually. “James, don’t climb ‘til I get over there! Severus, are you alright to help Lily with her snack?”
I visibly balk at the suggestion. “I do not think that would be wise.”
“I can’t trust James on his own and I can’t be in two places at once.”
“But—” I edge closer, trying to keep my voice low so that the children do not hear me. “I cannot understand a word she says.”
Sirius grins up at me. “It does take some getting used to. Go keep an eye on the boys then? Don’t let James out your sight. I’ve told him time and time again to make sure an adult is watching before he does anything reckless but y’know… He’s six.”
I sigh as I start to make my way over to the climbing frame. “Excellent. Just what I need in my life, another Gryffindor.” Sirius smiles fondly as he watches me march away. I do not follow myself straight away, instead I linger to watch Sirius with Lily and Albus.
Seeing Lily in her pushchair, babbling away bossily to Sirius, I find myself noticing similarities. She is so much like her daughter at that age. Or rather, Amberley was just like Lily. I haven’t noticed the similarity quite so acutely before. Amberley is seven now so her personality is really beginning to show through; she is destined to be a Slytherin, I am sure of it. In that respect, and with her fairer hair, she is often thought to be more like her father. She has her mother’s tenderness, but she is more careful about how and when she deploys it. Sirius is chatting animatedly, expertly interpreting Lily’s burblings and relaying them back to her, being sure to include Albus in the discussion.
I glance in the direction my other self has moved in and see Teddy approaching me from the climbing frame. I hurry over.
“Hey, can you lift the ward? I want to go up there,” James shouts down, pointing at a precarious frame which hangs out of the structure, at least a dozen feet from the ground.
“I do not think that would be appropriate. You are too young.”
“Granddad lets me…” James pouts.
“I am not Granddad.”
“Too right,” scoffs Teddy, “Uncle Sirius is loads of fun. Jamie can do it, I’ve seen him do it before.”
“Very well, but be careful.” The wards lift and James continues to climb with a grin. I am watching him like a hawk for a while, wand raised just in case, until Teddy starts to speak to me.
“Uncle Harry thinks you’re a wanker.” He is examining me closely.
“I do not find that surprising,” I reply tightly.
“Auntie Ginny says he’s just bitter about the past and can’t let go of old prejudices. She thinks if Uncle Sirius likes you, you can’t really be the greasy bastard everyone thinks you are.”
At the time, I remember wondering when first years became so foul-mouthed. Now, knowing Teddy, I see the act he was putting on for me. I see the way he steps back slowly, baiting me, trying to draw my attention away from James. My past self is drawn in, wand lowering, James barely in my peripheral vision.
“And what do you think?”
He inches back again. “I think you were horrible to Dad, even though he never joined the others in picking on you.”
“I see Potter has been telling you stories, but did he tell you how I spent days at a time making the Wolfsbane potion for your father every month? In my spare time, for no additional pay, I might add.” I am staring down at the boy, eyebrows raised, hiding my smirk at his obvious surprise. I feel a flash of fear which is not mine.
“JAMES!!” Sirius yells, running up behind myself and Teddy, one hand pushing the buggy while he raises his wand, Albus rushing behind him.
We all look up to James, dangling by one hand from the overhanging frame. In an instant he is being slowly lowered to the ground, protesting all the way.
“Aw, no fair Granddad! I had it! I could of got my hand back on there and got to the top!”
Sirius roughly grabbed him by the back of his cloak as soon as his feet hit the ground. “What have I told you about taking risks when an adult isn’t watching?” Sirius gives me a single look. It is a combination of ‘I told you so’ and ‘we’ll talk about this later’ that causes me to blush.
“I just wanted to get to the top…”
“You need to do as you’re told, James! It’s dangerous! Do I have to stick your bottom to the roof of the tower again?”
“No…” James grumbled, bothering a stone with the toe of his shoe as he stares at the floor.
“Right then, no more than two foot from the ground for the rest of the afternoon.” James opens his mouth in dismay, but Sirius doesn’t let him get a word out. “Or it’s the sticking charm,” he says, waving his wand threateningly. He flicks his wand, presumably renewing the height wards. Probably lowering them.
James huffs and heads off. Teddy goes to follow him, but Sirius’s hand on his shoulder stops him. He steers Teddy away slightly, out of earshot, but I can hear this time.
“Severus wouldn’t take a risk like that based on the word of a six year old. I know you’ve had a hand in this, Teddy.” Teddy’s hair turns a darker shade of blue as he averts his eyes. Sirius leans down to try and catch his gaze. “I know you’ve heard some things from Uncle Harry…” he sighs, “but Uncle Harry wasn’t there at school with me and your dad. I was, and I’ve forgiven him. True, he wasn’t fair to Harry when he was his professor, but—look, he wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but Severus saved Uncle Harry’s life, okay? More than once.”
Teddy was staring up at Sirius now, confused. “But—but why would Uncle Harry stay so mad at him if he saved his life?”
Sirius gives a wry smile. “It is not easy to accept help from the people you dislike. Especially when you’ve disliked them for so long. Uncle Harry is a very stubborn man.”
“You can talk, Uncle Sirius,” Teddy smirks cheekily. Sirius laughs.
“Just, try and make up your own mind about Severus, okay? For me?”
As they hug, I glance over to myself. Oh Merlin, I look positively idiotic. Lily is sleeping in her pushchair, which I have parked to the edge of the swing enclosure. Albus is sitting on a swing, tiny shoes dangling a couple of feet above the ground as he moves back and forth slightly. I am giving him the occasional gentle push with a flick of my wand while I rock awkwardly on my heels, trying to demonstrate the appropriate movement. My hips are moving in a most undignified manner. His face is screwed up in concentration as he attempts to copy. If anything, the movement of the swing lessens.
We don’t give up. We will practice for weeks, I remember. When he finally gets it, he will jump off mid-swing, straight into my arms, and hug me.
It will be the first of many.
*~*
Now
‘Gorgeous little shits, weren’t they? I hadn’t realised Amberley was so like Lily at that age. She’s so different now, it’s hard to believe.’
“I had the same thought.” I levitate a glass of water to Sirius, but he turns his head away. With a sigh, I vanish the water and refill the glass with Ogden’s. This time, he takes the straw between his lips without hesitation.
’Weird seeing Al too, so sweet, innocent and well-behaved considering what he’s been up to lately.’
I hum my agreement, but I don’t really wish to get into sordid gossip. Harry had brushed it off as a midlife crisis. Apparently, abandoning your wife and children for a woman half your age is acceptable once given that particular appellation.
‘Did you ever think we’d end up here?’
“I’m not precisely sure what you are referring to, or what you want me to say.”
‘I mean, together nearly forty years. Married for twenty-six. No arguments for the last eighteen. Four grandchildren, eight great-grandchildren.’
“No arguments? We’ve had at least six in the past week alone.”
‘I mean the great big, Earth-shattering arguments where you storm out for a few days or weeks and refuse to make my potion.’
Ah. Those arguments. We’ve had our fair share of those. I feel that many of the arguments throughout Sirius’s deterioration of the last three months were indeed of that scale; I just didn’t let myself see them through. He needed me too much.
Or rather, I needed him.
I can see now that, despite suffering the harsh realities of his illness, I am still here for a reason. I have needed to make the most of every moment left with him. As if forty years hasn’t been enough. In my heart, I know that one hundred years would not be enough.
I will never be ready to lose him.
“I want to show you something. A memory.”
‘I can’t do that. Not without my wand.’
I summon his wand and lay it in his outstretched hand, wrapping his fingers around it awkwardly.
“I want you to try. I will help you. Your mind is as strong as ever, Sirius.” I lay my palm softly against his cheek. I do not know if he will be able to cast the spell wordlessly, but I need him to try.
He looks into my eyes and a rush of memories start to flicker by. His emotions are making him easily distractible. I can feel him trying to pull me this way and that as significant moments whirl past. I must stay focussed. I find the memory, but it slips from my grasp as Sirius tries to pull me elsewhere. For the love of Merlin, I wish he would just listen.
The pull lessens. He must have heard me or sensed my irritation. I slip toward the memory again, but slightly earlier in the evening. After all, tonight is our last night together.
I fear that any attempt at intimacy would be a disaster. Surely he would sense my revulsion at his twisted and unresponsive body. I cannot taint our love making in such a way.
But I can give him this much.
*~*
Before.
Now, we are in my memory. No longer am I a casual observer. This time, I am completely immersed in the physical experience.
And what an experience.
We’re naked on Sirius’s bed, in his family residence. He is on all fours, his abundantly silver-flecked hair cascading over his shoulders. The most delicious filth is falling from his mouth as I push my cock into him.
“Fuck… Don’t hang about, yes… Fuck me so I’ll feel it tomorrow. That’s it, you know how I want it—OH, yes! Fucking hell your cock is amazing. AH! I suppose the rest of you isn’t so bad either.”
Inwardly I smile, but externally my past self is too lost in sensation. Sirius’s wanton moans send pleasant shivers straight down my spine from the base of my skull. I can feel my fingertips pressing into the softness around his hips. I can feel his arse, tight and hot around my cock. I want to reach out, and feel how soft his hair is as I weave it between my fingers; but I cannot, as I didn’t at the time. I feel disappointed as I pull out of him, but I know it will not last long.
Sirius looks over his shoulder indignantly. “Alright?”
I nod. “Lie down.”
“Why? I was quite enjoying it like that, to be honest,” he blushes. How amusing. I had forgotten that this was before Sirius had admitted the inevitable. For so long he had rebelled against expectation and instinct, refusing to accept—when either giving or receiving—that he preferred ‘doggy style’.
“I would like to see you,” I state plainly, but he looks ready to argue, so I add: “I would like to kiss you.”
He rolls over, wincing briefly and rubbing at his knees before spreading his legs for me. I ignore the ache in my own knees. I line myself up, but his hand on my shoulder makes me pause.
“You’re not going all Hufflepuff on me, are you?” he smirks.
I quickly thrust inside once more, watching him closely. He has a few more wrinkles than the memories we shared earlier. I admire his chest, taut and peppered with greying hairs, the slight softness of his belly, his beautiful cock, laying half hard against his stomach.
I lean over him, propping myself up on my forearms as I continue to thrust. The change of angle eases the pain in my knees and causes Sirius to buck up against me. We both groan.
We are panting into each other’s faces now. My lips find his, sloppy and needy between desperate breaths. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back, sliding between my cheeks. The air is hot and heavy with the sounds and smells of sex.
“Touch yourself,” I practically growl against his lips. Sirius moans as he complies.
“Fuck, Severus, so fucking good… Ung—higher, NNGH! YES! Ohhhh fuck, harder, Sev, harder—I’m close…”
Sirius’s knuckles keep knocking uncomfortably into my ribs as he furiously strokes himself. His mouth is against my neck: kissing, licking, sucking. I feel myself nearing the edge and my eyes drift shut.
I try to will them open again. I want to see! I want to look down on Sirius as I make him fall apart. I know that no amount of wishing will cause it to happen. Instead, I concentrate on his free hand, clutching at my hip, rubbing across my back; gripping my shoulder, fingernails digging in as he shouts out my name. His body bucks beneath me, hot wetness splatters against my chest and I find myself overwhelmed. I lose all sense of my surroundings. All that is left is the wonderful patches of heat where our bodies touch. Then comes the breath-taking wave of pleasure, rolling over every nerve-ending, setting my body alight with fire while at the same time I feel lighter than air.
Bit by bit, awareness seeps in. First, in the rapid rise and fall of our chests, and the hot panting breaths against my cheek. I lazily turn my head to the side and kiss whatever stretch of skin may be there. The rough drag of stubble as he shifts slightly tells me it is probably a chin. Now it is warm, soft lips. Lips that, even in this blissful haze, know just how to drive me to the point of insanity.
I flop sideways onto the bed. Sirius rolls to face me, swinging his leg over mine as he wriggles closer. We exchange lazy kisses, eyes mostly closed, as our breathing returns to normal.
After a while, we smile at each other. I run my fingers through Sirius’s hair, half-heartedly fixing his parting. He brushes me off, sweeping his own hand through his hair once before pushing me onto my back and settling his head upon my chest.
His fingertips trace lazy patterns through my chest hair as I lace my fingers through the ends of his hair, letting it slowly fall free before repeating again.
Suddenly there is a strange noise, akin to flatulence, but accompanied by a strange, wet, vibrating sensation around my nipple. I jerk with alarm, looking accusingly down at Sirius, who is quite clearly trying to resist bursting into laughter.
“What,” I enunciate slowly, “was that?”
“A raspberry.”
There is quite a long pause, before I say: “A what?”
“You’ve never heard of a raspberry? Harry does it to the kids; well, just Lily now really, but they all used to love it.”
“What is its purpose?”
Sirius is finding it near impossible to contain himself by this point. “It doesn’t really have one. It’s affectionate. Just something silly.”
“Something silly?” A small chuckle does escape Sirius this time. My frown deepens. “If parents force it upon their children as a sign of affection, you shouldn’t be surprised I haven’t heard of it. And what on Earth would possess you to do it to me?”
He shrugs. “Dunno really, just wanted to see what would happen.” He leans up, trying to reach for a kiss. I oblige by dipping my head to meet him halfway.
When I pull away, his lips find my neck, blowing another raspberry there. A small shiver runs through me and I hear Sirius hum contentedly. “It feels kind of nice there, right?”
“I suppose so. Although the sound is rather off-putting.”
“Can I try it somewhere else?”
I nod. It feels quite unremarkable against my chest. My stomach is slightly more ticklish. My body is still rather desensitised from our previous activities, so the sensations aren’t as acute as they may have been beforehand. Not there however.
I whimper and pull my leg away, pushing at his shoulder to prevent him placing another raspberry between my upper thigh and groin.
However, he just goes for the other thigh.
“Pack it in, you cretin.”
I sit up, shoving at his shoulder, his chest, but he just continues to attempt to get his mouth on me. He starts to laugh as we wrestle.
“Sirius, you’re such a bloody child sometime—Ah! No teeth…”
And then we are both laughing.
I manage to pin him down, blowing long raspberries against his lower stomach as he laughs, writhes and begs for mercy.
He seems to have conceded. I crash down next to him, both still laughing as we pull each other close. As the laughter ebbs, I look up into his eyes and that’s when it happens.
The reason I brought him to this memory.
I concentrate on it. I let it swell. Until it is tangible in the room. So that I know Sirius cannot mistake it. So that Sirius will know exactly what this moment is to me.
The moment I truly fell in love with him.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him at the time. I feared that everything would change somehow. Instead, these words leave my mouth: “I’d like us to have a place together.”
Oh yes, marvellous. Well done, Severus, that statement has absolutely no likelihood of upsetting the cauldron.
I can’t berate myself for long. After all, everything did change.
And I am thankful that it did.
*~*
Now.
He has dropped his wand onto the bed. His fingers are twitching, trying their best to unfurl, trying to reach out for me. I take his hand, bringing it to my lips to briefly kiss his knuckles before returning our joined hands to rest on the bed.
‘Thank you.’
I try to smile, but I know it does not reach my eyes. I look to him, trying my best to drop my defences; to let my emotions dance across my face for him. “I love you, Sirius.”
‘I love you, Severus.’
My thumb rubs gentle circles on the back of his hand. I want to ignore the dawn starting to peek around the curtains. I cannot think about what is to come.
I have failed him.
His fingers twitch against the back of my hand and I know that he has sensed my despondency. I don’t know what to say. I want reassurance, but I know that there is none to be had. Yes, it has been my potion skills which have given us so many years together. It is also my potion skills which have failed him in the end, and that I cannot ignore. Would his life be any worse had we never become involved?
Perhaps it would have been improved.
“Sirius,” I pause mostly because I fear my voice will reveal my turbulent emotional state. I know I shouldn’t say it. I know that he will interpret my need to ask as some sort of failure on his part. Logic is outweighed by the need to soothe my irrationality.
“Have I made you happy?” I bow my head, allowing my hair to fall in front of my face. I can still see the Thoughtpad, but Sirius cannot see me. He cannot see the worried furrow across my brow. He cannot see the pulse in my cheek as I struggle to keep my emotions in check.
‘If I could change any one thing that ever happened between us,’
I wait with baited breath, but nothing else is forthcoming. “Yes?”
But the Thoughtpad stays clear and dull. I tilt my head enough to see him out the corner of my eye. Finally, it glows.
‘I wouldn’t. Not a single thing.’ He waited, so that I would see the sincerity in his eyes. His words sting. We have had cause to forgive each other for many misdemeanours over the years, even since our marriage, never mind if you take our school days into consideration.
“I regret many actions that I would rectify if I could. I am disappointed that you would not do the same.”
‘I never said I had no regrets, just that I wouldn’t change anything. After all, we wouldn’t be us without the sarcasm, stubbornness and explosive tempers. If we hadn’t been such little shits to each other in school, we might never have developed into the middle-age men who fell for each other.’
“Perhaps.”
‘That’s a yes, by the way, in short. You have made me happy. Happily ever after.’
“This is no fairy tale. Fairy tales don’t end in death.”
‘You clearly never read the originals. Besides, we didn’t promise ‘’til death us do part’. ‘Happily ever after’ is timeless. Limitless.’
“Its limit is in our separation,” I bite out before I can stop myself, “You may have lived out your happy ending, but I must live on. In loneliness.” I know that, for his sake, I should be glad that he has accepted his fate.
I am not glad. I am bitter. A Nundu does not change its spots.
‘And where will I be, if not in loneliness without you?’
“Oblivion.” I should care that it may hurt him to hear it. I don’t. I want him to understand why this is so difficult. If I regret it at all, it is only because I expect him to attempt to prove me wrong. Here come the citations from Harry. Priori Incantatem. The Resurrection Stone. Part of me wants to believe it.
‘If that is what helps you, hold onto it. I choose to believe that we will see each other again. When the time is right.’ It doesn’t help me. It suffocates me. It is too early a belief forced upon me. Too deeply ingrained.
“How can you be so optimistic, even now? In the face of—” I close my eyes, trying to de-clutter my mind. Attempting to ignore the panic threatening to overtake me. I need a distraction. To move. I need to do something.
“It is morning. We should get ready.” I do not want to, but they will be here on time regardless. I get up and pull Sirius’s dress robes from the cupboard.
Slytherin green, as we discussed.
I turn around and the Thoughtpad is flashing. I move to his side of the bed before peering down at it.
‘I have a request.’
“Go on.”
He does not respond immediately. Presumably he is weighing up how to word his request. I feel a knot forming in my chest as my brain chants, over and over: I can’t kill you, I can’t. Nor can I handle that conversation. Not again.
‘Can you dress me by hand?’
I catch his eyes for a moment. I feel the pull in my chest as the knot unwinds. The relief that I can do that for him. The knowledge that I can bring him some degree of comfort.
“Of course. May I still levitate you? It would be easier on both our bodies.”
‘That’s fine. I just want to feel your hands on me.’ I busy myself summoning and filling his basin to avoid looking at him again. I fear seeing my own feelings reflected in his eyes. More so, I fear that they will not be there. Perhaps the thought of leaving me isn’t tearing him apart inside. I don’t think I could bear it.
I strip him of his pyjamas, levitating only when necessary and casting Impervius on the sheets. I take the sponge, lingering in my strokes as I wet his body. I trace the scar on his foot, from our first attempt to teach the children Quidditch, before soaping his feet. His calf muscles slowly ease their tension as I massage the soap to a lather. I work up to mid-thigh and rinse him off with my wand, vanishing the excess water which has pooled on the sheet, unable to seep in.
I summon a towel and dry his legs in long, sure strokes. His eyes are closed, breathing relaxed, concentrating on my touch.
“I’m going to do your back next,” I softly tell him, so he is prepared to be levitated. I easily roll him face down before lowering him, one hand on his chin to gently guide his face to the side as his head reaches the pillow. My eyes linger over the curse marks crisscrossing his back, but I do not let my touch draw attention to them. That was the agreement for our final days together: reminisce, but don’t mention the war.
When I have finished with his back and turn him over again, I do caress the hex mark upon his hip, caused by my own wand. I have left many more marks upon his body over the years but just the one which time and potions could not fade. I still think it serves the damn fool right. He should have known how I would react to a surprise party, or any sort of party—we were married by then, after all.
There is only one location left to wash. I hesitate, remembering his earlier request for a ‘massage’, worrying that he will expect it of me. As I repeatedly wring out the sponge, I know I am stalling. A grunt from the bed breaks my concentration and my hand immediately flies to the Thoughtpad, placing his hand upon it.
‘Don’t tease, use the spell.’
With a few flicks of my wand, his groin is clean and the basin filled with hot, fresh water. I gently bathe his face with a flannel, then shave him as he looks up at me. My eyes concentrate on the blade.
We washed his hair yesterday, so a freshening charm will do. I lean over the end of the bed, hooking his feet into the leg holes of his underpants. His knees have bent inwards again so I spend another moment massaging his muscles until they can part. I slide up his pants, promptly dressing him to the left, as he would himself.
His robes, fitted for his able body, slide easily over his now too-lean frame. I inflate his pillow, easing him into a sitting position before brushing his hair.
Truly, I will miss these moments.
The realisation surprises me. As usual, Sirius gives me cause to question everything.
I levitate him downstairs, into his armchair in the study. The rushing sound of the Floo from the kitchen seems to suck the oxygen from the room. I fuss with Sirius’s robes a moment longer, making sure his Thoughtpad is comfortably placed, before sweeping from the room.
Kingsley greets me with a handshake, introducing the Healer beside him. I do not hear his name, as I do not care. I shake his hand curtly. The Floo flares to life beside them, interrupting Kingsley’s tedious observations about the weather.
Harry steps out, jaw set, eyes boring into me. His dark grey hair looks just as ridiculously unkempt as it ever did. He is shortly followed by Teddy, sporting his father’s shade of sandy brown hair. He edges his way awkwardly between Harry and the wall to embrace me. It is brief, unreturned, but I acknowledge it with a small smile as he steps back. They are staring at me, waiting. It is a struggle to find my voice.
“Sirius wishes to speak alone with Teddy and the Minister.”
“I am not here as Minister,” Harry snaps, “I am here for Sirius. Because you refused his dying wish.”
“Harry…” Teddy places his hand on Harry’s shoulder. They exchange a look which tells me they have already had this conversation. Teddy turns his attention to me, his hand still on Harry. “Is he in the study?”
I nod and they make their way through the hall and into the other room, closing the door behind them. Harry’s words bother me. I know first hand that a terminal diagnosis does not make killing any easier. I know how many years he will be haunted by it. And counting.
I excuse myself for a moment, heading downstairs to my lab. I do not know why I am opening the cupboard and removing the potion. I don’t really know why I made it, as I have had no inclination to use it until now. Even this moment, I am unsure. I slip it inside my robe pocket and return to the kitchen.
Teddy’s tear-stained face appears in the doorway from the hall as I reach the top of the stairs. The flecks of grey now show around his temples. He simply nods and returns to the study. I tilt my own head in agreement and Kingsley and the Healer follow.
Kingsley begins to read out the official decree from the Wizengamot. I have already signed it, so I am not listening. I am looking at Sirius, but he is not looking at me. His eyes are on Harry; pained and concerned.
I know what I must do.
When Kingsley rolls up the parchment, I pull the vial from my robes. The Thoughtpad flashes.
“What’s that?” Harry reads off, before looking up at me.
“Something to stop the pain.” I kneel beside his chair, addressing only Sirius.
‘Seems like a waste of a potion.’
I still don’t know if I can do this. I can feel my voice threatening to crack.
“Sirius. Let me do this one last thing for you. If you are ready.”
I hold his gaze as I see the recognition of his own words in his eyes. He opens his mouth.
“The effect is not immediate,” I say softly, as I bring the vial to his lips.
He drinks the potion, sealing his fate.
And mine.
I get to my feet, laying the empty bottle upon the table before leaning over him. Taking his face in my hands, I lay a lingering kiss upon his forehead. Every ounce of emotion I have ever felt for this man, pouring into him through that one last kiss.
The Thoughtpad glows, but I do not read it. I leave.
Harry is calling after me. Voices are being raised. I try to close the study door but it is wrenched from my grip. I reach for the front door but my arm is seized. I try to yank it free.
“Severus, where do you think you’re going?” Harry shouts at me in disbelief.
“Elsewhere,” I tightly respond, still trying to extricate myself from his grasp.
“But, you can’t! He needs you!”
“Needs me?” I bite out, venom seeping unbidden into my words, “In a few moments he will have peaceful oblivion. I must stay. I must suffer!”
Harry’s fist connects with my nose, accompanied by a most nauseating crunch.
“You selfish bastard, that’s your husband in there!”
“EXACTLY! He is my husband. I have done all I can for him. Now I must look after myself.”
“Harry!” Teddy calls as he steps out of the study, a shocked look crossing his features as he sees my face. I can feel the blood drying across my cheek where I swiped at it with my sleeve. The acute pain is a welcome distraction from emotional turmoil.
“You can’t just walk out of here, Severus! That pad thing, he was trying to talk to you—”
“We have both said all that is necessary.”
“Harry, leave him, Sirius said to let him go.”
“Teddy,” Harry sighs in frustration, “We can’t let him leave!”
“Yes, we can. Sirius wants us to. Now come on, right now.”
I tense at the urgency in Teddy’s voice. Harry has detected it too.
“What’s wrong?”
“The potion...” His eyes flicker to mine. Harry turns back to face me, eyes wide. With a choked gasp, he throws himself back through the door to the study, Teddy at his heels.
I am out on the street but now my feet do not know where to go. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me. I can feel pressure building up inside my skull as guilt, anger, resentment, regret and desperate denial fight for supremacy.
I take flight.
I soar rapidly, up, up and up. The wind whips harshly across my face, pummelling against my sore and bloodied nose, drawing drops of moisture from my eyes until I can hardly see. Still I continue up, panting in harsh breaths at the exertion of such speed.
The air is thinning.
I level off, welcoming the burning in my lungs as I draw inadequate breaths. The light-headedness is divine.
I drop to a more comfortable altitude, reducing my speed. I had quite forgotten how wonderful unsupported flight is.
Given that it was Riddle whom perfected and taught the spell, it is a pleasure I felt was best left in the past. I did allow myself to indulge on one occasion. A teenage Teddy morphed a pair of wings for himself and challenged me to prove the stories were true. It had only been the two of us and, as graceful as he was, he was unable to match my freedom of movement.
I am grateful that I have been a part of Teddy’s life. He is a very caring man. One of the few people who continue to thrust physical signs of affection upon me. True, it often irritates me, but there is something reassuring in his persistence.
Much to Sirius’s disgruntlement over the years, I have not understood physical intimacy. Outside of sexual congress, I feel no desire for the touch of another. For the most part, it vexes me, to be touched without due cause. Our family cannot understand it. The crux of the matter is their refusal to accept that I have not experienced sadness. Not since the age of approximately six, at least. It is not a moment I tend to share. Suffice to say, it began with that ghastly phrase from the Muggle book of parenting, ‘I’ll give you something to cry about’.
After that, I realised that sadness only feeds weakness and fear. It is anger, resentment and blame which make you strong. Those are my foundations—what makes me, me, at my very core.
However, the foundations are not as strong as they once were. They have been built upon, time and time again—drilled into, in places and refilled with hopeful ideals. I am beginning to realise just how much of the person I have become is due to Sirius’s influence.
Every facet of my being is linked to Sirius. My patience and impatience. My social skills and lack of. Right down to ridiculous details such as my penchant for blue cheese. Every time I take a steadying breath, stop to think before I speak, reach for the St Agur—it is because of his influence. Memories will pull forth unbidden, of what we had and what I have lost.
Although, I did not lose him.
I shoved him out the door.
I am not even certain that he is dead yet, and already I feel surrounded, overwhelmed, suffocated by mere memories. How can I face our family? How can I return to our home? Damn Sirius for forcing this upon me, while he—
Of course. I am a fool not to have thought of it sooner.
I look around, but I don’t know where I am, so I cannot hope to know the way. Instead, I concentrate and turn, Disapparating mid-flight.
Seeking my own oblivion.
With a twist and a pop, I plough face-first into the gates of Malfoy Manor.
Not quite what I had in mind. Apparating while travelling at speed and parallel to the ground was probably not the best of ideas. The pain in my nose has doubled and I appear to be bleeding again. Before I can finish gathering myself, I feel a small hand around my wrist.
All of a sudden, I am in Draco’s study.
“Merlin’s pants, Severus!” Draco calls as he hurries over to me. “Sit down. I’ll call for refreshments and we’ll get you cleaned up. Bonbie!”
“Oh do stop mithering, Draco, I am perfectly fine!” I snap, aggressively brushing him off as the elf who likely brought me from the gate reappears.
Draco shoots me a withering look. “Even if I didn’t happen to know that you’re still in yesterday’s robes, you look like shit. Sit down, or I will make you.”
I roll my eyes at him, but I take a seat. Truthfully, I do feel rather weary all of a sudden. He gives the elf some instructions and sends it on its way.
“May I?” he asks, pointing his wand at my nose. I acquiesce with a wave of my hand. The first charm stings as it cleans the blood from me. “It is broken. Brace yourself.”
“Oh, do get on with it,” I snap. I cannot contain a pained grunt as my nose grinds back into place. “How do you know I’m in yesterday’s robes?” I ask as a distraction. Until Draco mentioned it, I hadn’t realised myself. Staying up all night, the thought hadn’t occurred to me. I had been too preoccupied…
Draco drops down into the chair beside me with a sigh. “Potter arrived about two hours ago. He said you’d stormed off…”
I hadn’t realised I had been flying for so long. No wonder I am tired.
“He was worried about you, Severus.” I laugh bitterly. “Truly. He wanted to wait here until you arrived.”
I stare at Draco, wide-eyed. Oh please, no.
“No, I sent him away. I managed to convince him to leave you be for a while.”
I doubt that Harry’s and my own interpretations of ‘a while’ are even remotely similar.
“Harry was satisfied with Sirius’s explanation,” he almost mumbles, “About the Endless Sleep. He’ll smooth everything over so that there won’t be any repercussions, despite the changes of enabler and… method. Tea?”
I simply glare at him.
“Thought not.” He levitates two glasses of amber liquid over. I take mine with an appreciative nod. The glass is soon empty. “What can I do for you, Severus? You know you only need ask. Shower, bed, fresh robes, food?”
I stare at him levelly. “I want you to Obliviate me.”
He takes a deep breath. “Severus, I know that today has been difficult, but—”
“I am not asking you to remove just my memories of today.” For a moment, Draco looks taken aback, but he quickly composes himself.
“As a Healer, I cannot—”
“I am not asking you as a Healer, Draco. Please.”
He looks pained. “What exactly are you asking of me?”
“Take everything of him. Leave me only with Padfoot.” I will keep a portion of our love, my loss, in a more manageable dose. It is the perfect solution.
“Severus—That, how can you... You need to think this through.” Draco seems to be attempting to withhold his temper. I don’t really understand it.
“This is the right course of action.”
“Right?! For fuck’s sake, Severus! What about James, Al and Lily? Is it right for them to lose two grandfathers in one day? For Teddy and Harry to lose yet another link to their own parents?”
“At least I did not simply top myself. You know I have the means.” Draco seems hell-bent on missing the point entirely. It is rather vexing.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he smirks cruelly. “I know you, Severus.”
I had hoped to offer some perspective, but I was not prepared for his insight. He is right, of course. Those who fear death will not truly pass from the world, their disembodied spirit trapped in a meaningless existence for eternity. I drag on my anger, determined to get back to the point.
“I’ve played the doting husband, both the loved and the despised step-father and grandfather. It is time to do what is right for me!”
“This is not right, this is easy!” Draco’s cheeks are flushed red. He looks furious. “You are looking for the easy way out of this but it isn’t easy, Severus. Like it or not, you are an important part of many people’s lives. Even if you don’t think they are important to yours.”
His words cut me to the bone. I feel myself bleed. I want to speak. I want to take back the inferences I now realise I made. Nothing comes out.
I look up as his hand touches my knee. “Sleep. Bonbie has made you up a room if you do not feel ready to go home just yet.”
I find I really don’t know. I don’t know anything. What I want, how I feel, what to do, it’s all conflicting and overwhelming. I want to be back home, cocooned in familiarity, but I know I will only be bombarded by his absence. I wonder what has happened to the Thoughtpad; Sirius’s voice. Perhaps it sits upon his chair, or on the table beside it. Perhaps it lies on the floor, forgotten in its irrelevance now that its purpose is served.
Or perhaps that is myself.
“It won’t always feel like this. I promise you. I know. If you still want to discuss memory modification after the funeral, then I will listen.” The hand on my knee tightens.
I cannot help but glance up at Astoria’s portrait above the mantel. A single rose protrudes from an elegant, slender vase beneath it.
Yes, Draco knows.
*~*
One week later.
I exit the chapel, Amberley’s hand still firmly gripping my own as she walks beside me. Harry had broken down mid-eulogy, unable to continue but stubbornly refusing to sit down. When Teddy went to his aid, leaving myself solitary on the pew, Amberley did not hesitate. She stepped past her parents, ignoring the hushed protests and tugs at her dainty black dress. She boldly stepped to my side, pushing at me until I moved over for her. Sitting beside me, she silently took my hand into her lap. She hasn’t let it go since.
I stop at the floral tributes, gazing down at them unseeingly. Amberley lets some of her weight lean against my side, resting her cheek against ribs. I let my arm drape around her.
I want to go home. To be where my lack of social graces is irrelevant. I could immerse myself in the familiar and comfortable; potion making in my lab or reading before the fire. I could go to bed, close my eyes with my nose buried in his pillow and pretend for a while that nothing has changed.
Instead I must stand here as streams of teary-eyed people approach me. I have difficulty dealing with people at the best of times. There are many handshakes, forced smiles, ‘thank you’s and uncomfortable hesitations. Of course, there are curious observations about my choice of robes. I am fully aware that Gryffindor red is not suited to one of my pallor. Sirius and I agreed upon our robes for the symbolism, not due to vanity. The unfaltering pressure at my side keeps me grounded.
Lily approaches. After her words attempting comfort, she reaches out for Amberley. My girl resolutely and silently shakes her head.
“It’s quite alright, Lily,” I assure her, and she moves on. Draco, Scorpius and James keep it brief.
As Albus approaches with his daughters, I inwardly thank his tact for bringing them in favour of his paramour. I do not see the girls as much as I used to now that they are well into their teens. They are growing up so beautifully.
Teddy steps up and I prepare for an embrace. He looks awful. His hair is flecked with more grey than I have ever seen on him, his face is flushed and his eyes red. He doesn’t say anything. He simply takes my hand in both of his, holds my gaze for a moment, and moves away. I assume he is trying to avoid yet more tears.
“Severus.” Harry’s voice is thick from crying.
A take a deep breath and try to usher Amberley in the direction of her mother. She only holds tighter.
He is in front of me now. Eyes also red, currently downturned. Chest heaving. I have avoided him for the whole week, dreading this moment.
“It was supposed to be me. I really thought I could do it.” There is a slight quiver in his jaw. He seems to crumple. “Thank you…” he whispers almost desperately as he throws himself against me, hands clutching at my back.
In my shock, I do not immediately notice a small hand letting go. I do notice the same hands wrapping my arms around Harry as he sobs into my shoulder.
“That’s what he said,” Harry whispers through his tears, his body shaking in my arms, “His last words were for you. ‘Thank you, love, for every single moment. Even the shit ones’!” A broken laugh escapes him.
And I hold him. I hold Harry Potter to my chest as he cries.
And I cry.
Great sobs wrack my body. My grief flows freely, sucking in desperate breaths. My arms around Harry are necessary, clinging back at me just as needily. I feel like I may never want to let go.
With this, the last of the foundations which made up Severus Snape crumble into dust. All that is left, is all that Sirius gave me.
I am Severus Black.
And I will not surrender.
Fin
*~*
Author:
llaeyroCharacters/Pairings: Severus Snape/Sirius Black
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~15k
Content/Warning(s): Major character death, assisted suicide, progressive disease, anal sex (prior to symptoms), ER, AU—Sirius and Severus live and Harry names his second child Albus Remus, otherwise EC.
Prompt: They've been together for a very long time, lived a good long life but in their twilight years, one of them falls terminally ill. Towards the end they're in incredible pain and want nothing more than release from what has become a miserable existence for both of them.
A/N: This is part 2 of 2. Read part 1 here.
Before.
Merlin’s beard, what is it with my husband and first times? I do not understand his logic. Of all the weekends that we looked after our grandchildren, of all the times we took them to the park, he has to pick this disastrous playdate? It is the first occasion on which I have met the children, and my discomfort could not be more apparent.
The wizarding playpark, funded by Harry, was so new at the time that we were the only family in it. He wanted his children to have the opportunities he was denied whilst growing up. When he discovered that there was no such thing as a wizarding park, he built one. To Muggles, it is an abandoned plot of land.
Sirius is sat on the bench, passing finger food to Lily as she sits happily in her pushchair. Teddy, James and Albus are perched beside Sirius, stuffing their faces with crisps and the like while I stand off awkwardly to the side. Teddy gets up, wiping his greasy hands carelessly on his trousers.
“Uncle Sirius, I’m going on the monkey bars.”
“Me too!” James shouts out, sliding off the bench and shoving his last handful of crisps into his mouth in one go.
“Hang on!” Sirius calls out, ineffectually. “James, don’t climb ‘til I get over there! Severus, are you alright to help Lily with her snack?”
I visibly balk at the suggestion. “I do not think that would be wise.”
“I can’t trust James on his own and I can’t be in two places at once.”
“But—” I edge closer, trying to keep my voice low so that the children do not hear me. “I cannot understand a word she says.”
Sirius grins up at me. “It does take some getting used to. Go keep an eye on the boys then? Don’t let James out your sight. I’ve told him time and time again to make sure an adult is watching before he does anything reckless but y’know… He’s six.”
I sigh as I start to make my way over to the climbing frame. “Excellent. Just what I need in my life, another Gryffindor.” Sirius smiles fondly as he watches me march away. I do not follow myself straight away, instead I linger to watch Sirius with Lily and Albus.
Seeing Lily in her pushchair, babbling away bossily to Sirius, I find myself noticing similarities. She is so much like her daughter at that age. Or rather, Amberley was just like Lily. I haven’t noticed the similarity quite so acutely before. Amberley is seven now so her personality is really beginning to show through; she is destined to be a Slytherin, I am sure of it. In that respect, and with her fairer hair, she is often thought to be more like her father. She has her mother’s tenderness, but she is more careful about how and when she deploys it. Sirius is chatting animatedly, expertly interpreting Lily’s burblings and relaying them back to her, being sure to include Albus in the discussion.
I glance in the direction my other self has moved in and see Teddy approaching me from the climbing frame. I hurry over.
“Hey, can you lift the ward? I want to go up there,” James shouts down, pointing at a precarious frame which hangs out of the structure, at least a dozen feet from the ground.
“I do not think that would be appropriate. You are too young.”
“Granddad lets me…” James pouts.
“I am not Granddad.”
“Too right,” scoffs Teddy, “Uncle Sirius is loads of fun. Jamie can do it, I’ve seen him do it before.”
“Very well, but be careful.” The wards lift and James continues to climb with a grin. I am watching him like a hawk for a while, wand raised just in case, until Teddy starts to speak to me.
“Uncle Harry thinks you’re a wanker.” He is examining me closely.
“I do not find that surprising,” I reply tightly.
“Auntie Ginny says he’s just bitter about the past and can’t let go of old prejudices. She thinks if Uncle Sirius likes you, you can’t really be the greasy bastard everyone thinks you are.”
At the time, I remember wondering when first years became so foul-mouthed. Now, knowing Teddy, I see the act he was putting on for me. I see the way he steps back slowly, baiting me, trying to draw my attention away from James. My past self is drawn in, wand lowering, James barely in my peripheral vision.
“And what do you think?”
He inches back again. “I think you were horrible to Dad, even though he never joined the others in picking on you.”
“I see Potter has been telling you stories, but did he tell you how I spent days at a time making the Wolfsbane potion for your father every month? In my spare time, for no additional pay, I might add.” I am staring down at the boy, eyebrows raised, hiding my smirk at his obvious surprise. I feel a flash of fear which is not mine.
“JAMES!!” Sirius yells, running up behind myself and Teddy, one hand pushing the buggy while he raises his wand, Albus rushing behind him.
We all look up to James, dangling by one hand from the overhanging frame. In an instant he is being slowly lowered to the ground, protesting all the way.
“Aw, no fair Granddad! I had it! I could of got my hand back on there and got to the top!”
Sirius roughly grabbed him by the back of his cloak as soon as his feet hit the ground. “What have I told you about taking risks when an adult isn’t watching?” Sirius gives me a single look. It is a combination of ‘I told you so’ and ‘we’ll talk about this later’ that causes me to blush.
“I just wanted to get to the top…”
“You need to do as you’re told, James! It’s dangerous! Do I have to stick your bottom to the roof of the tower again?”
“No…” James grumbled, bothering a stone with the toe of his shoe as he stares at the floor.
“Right then, no more than two foot from the ground for the rest of the afternoon.” James opens his mouth in dismay, but Sirius doesn’t let him get a word out. “Or it’s the sticking charm,” he says, waving his wand threateningly. He flicks his wand, presumably renewing the height wards. Probably lowering them.
James huffs and heads off. Teddy goes to follow him, but Sirius’s hand on his shoulder stops him. He steers Teddy away slightly, out of earshot, but I can hear this time.
“Severus wouldn’t take a risk like that based on the word of a six year old. I know you’ve had a hand in this, Teddy.” Teddy’s hair turns a darker shade of blue as he averts his eyes. Sirius leans down to try and catch his gaze. “I know you’ve heard some things from Uncle Harry…” he sighs, “but Uncle Harry wasn’t there at school with me and your dad. I was, and I’ve forgiven him. True, he wasn’t fair to Harry when he was his professor, but—look, he wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but Severus saved Uncle Harry’s life, okay? More than once.”
Teddy was staring up at Sirius now, confused. “But—but why would Uncle Harry stay so mad at him if he saved his life?”
Sirius gives a wry smile. “It is not easy to accept help from the people you dislike. Especially when you’ve disliked them for so long. Uncle Harry is a very stubborn man.”
“You can talk, Uncle Sirius,” Teddy smirks cheekily. Sirius laughs.
“Just, try and make up your own mind about Severus, okay? For me?”
As they hug, I glance over to myself. Oh Merlin, I look positively idiotic. Lily is sleeping in her pushchair, which I have parked to the edge of the swing enclosure. Albus is sitting on a swing, tiny shoes dangling a couple of feet above the ground as he moves back and forth slightly. I am giving him the occasional gentle push with a flick of my wand while I rock awkwardly on my heels, trying to demonstrate the appropriate movement. My hips are moving in a most undignified manner. His face is screwed up in concentration as he attempts to copy. If anything, the movement of the swing lessens.
We don’t give up. We will practice for weeks, I remember. When he finally gets it, he will jump off mid-swing, straight into my arms, and hug me.
It will be the first of many.
Now
‘Gorgeous little shits, weren’t they? I hadn’t realised Amberley was so like Lily at that age. She’s so different now, it’s hard to believe.’
“I had the same thought.” I levitate a glass of water to Sirius, but he turns his head away. With a sigh, I vanish the water and refill the glass with Ogden’s. This time, he takes the straw between his lips without hesitation.
’Weird seeing Al too, so sweet, innocent and well-behaved considering what he’s been up to lately.’
I hum my agreement, but I don’t really wish to get into sordid gossip. Harry had brushed it off as a midlife crisis. Apparently, abandoning your wife and children for a woman half your age is acceptable once given that particular appellation.
‘Did you ever think we’d end up here?’
“I’m not precisely sure what you are referring to, or what you want me to say.”
‘I mean, together nearly forty years. Married for twenty-six. No arguments for the last eighteen. Four grandchildren, eight great-grandchildren.’
“No arguments? We’ve had at least six in the past week alone.”
‘I mean the great big, Earth-shattering arguments where you storm out for a few days or weeks and refuse to make my potion.’
Ah. Those arguments. We’ve had our fair share of those. I feel that many of the arguments throughout Sirius’s deterioration of the last three months were indeed of that scale; I just didn’t let myself see them through. He needed me too much.
Or rather, I needed him.
I can see now that, despite suffering the harsh realities of his illness, I am still here for a reason. I have needed to make the most of every moment left with him. As if forty years hasn’t been enough. In my heart, I know that one hundred years would not be enough.
I will never be ready to lose him.
“I want to show you something. A memory.”
‘I can’t do that. Not without my wand.’
I summon his wand and lay it in his outstretched hand, wrapping his fingers around it awkwardly.
“I want you to try. I will help you. Your mind is as strong as ever, Sirius.” I lay my palm softly against his cheek. I do not know if he will be able to cast the spell wordlessly, but I need him to try.
He looks into my eyes and a rush of memories start to flicker by. His emotions are making him easily distractible. I can feel him trying to pull me this way and that as significant moments whirl past. I must stay focussed. I find the memory, but it slips from my grasp as Sirius tries to pull me elsewhere. For the love of Merlin, I wish he would just listen.
The pull lessens. He must have heard me or sensed my irritation. I slip toward the memory again, but slightly earlier in the evening. After all, tonight is our last night together.
I fear that any attempt at intimacy would be a disaster. Surely he would sense my revulsion at his twisted and unresponsive body. I cannot taint our love making in such a way.
But I can give him this much.
Before.
Now, we are in my memory. No longer am I a casual observer. This time, I am completely immersed in the physical experience.
And what an experience.
We’re naked on Sirius’s bed, in his family residence. He is on all fours, his abundantly silver-flecked hair cascading over his shoulders. The most delicious filth is falling from his mouth as I push my cock into him.
“Fuck… Don’t hang about, yes… Fuck me so I’ll feel it tomorrow. That’s it, you know how I want it—OH, yes! Fucking hell your cock is amazing. AH! I suppose the rest of you isn’t so bad either.”
Inwardly I smile, but externally my past self is too lost in sensation. Sirius’s wanton moans send pleasant shivers straight down my spine from the base of my skull. I can feel my fingertips pressing into the softness around his hips. I can feel his arse, tight and hot around my cock. I want to reach out, and feel how soft his hair is as I weave it between my fingers; but I cannot, as I didn’t at the time. I feel disappointed as I pull out of him, but I know it will not last long.
Sirius looks over his shoulder indignantly. “Alright?”
I nod. “Lie down.”
“Why? I was quite enjoying it like that, to be honest,” he blushes. How amusing. I had forgotten that this was before Sirius had admitted the inevitable. For so long he had rebelled against expectation and instinct, refusing to accept—when either giving or receiving—that he preferred ‘doggy style’.
“I would like to see you,” I state plainly, but he looks ready to argue, so I add: “I would like to kiss you.”
He rolls over, wincing briefly and rubbing at his knees before spreading his legs for me. I ignore the ache in my own knees. I line myself up, but his hand on my shoulder makes me pause.
“You’re not going all Hufflepuff on me, are you?” he smirks.
I quickly thrust inside once more, watching him closely. He has a few more wrinkles than the memories we shared earlier. I admire his chest, taut and peppered with greying hairs, the slight softness of his belly, his beautiful cock, laying half hard against his stomach.
I lean over him, propping myself up on my forearms as I continue to thrust. The change of angle eases the pain in my knees and causes Sirius to buck up against me. We both groan.
We are panting into each other’s faces now. My lips find his, sloppy and needy between desperate breaths. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back, sliding between my cheeks. The air is hot and heavy with the sounds and smells of sex.
“Touch yourself,” I practically growl against his lips. Sirius moans as he complies.
“Fuck, Severus, so fucking good… Ung—higher, NNGH! YES! Ohhhh fuck, harder, Sev, harder—I’m close…”
Sirius’s knuckles keep knocking uncomfortably into my ribs as he furiously strokes himself. His mouth is against my neck: kissing, licking, sucking. I feel myself nearing the edge and my eyes drift shut.
I try to will them open again. I want to see! I want to look down on Sirius as I make him fall apart. I know that no amount of wishing will cause it to happen. Instead, I concentrate on his free hand, clutching at my hip, rubbing across my back; gripping my shoulder, fingernails digging in as he shouts out my name. His body bucks beneath me, hot wetness splatters against my chest and I find myself overwhelmed. I lose all sense of my surroundings. All that is left is the wonderful patches of heat where our bodies touch. Then comes the breath-taking wave of pleasure, rolling over every nerve-ending, setting my body alight with fire while at the same time I feel lighter than air.
Bit by bit, awareness seeps in. First, in the rapid rise and fall of our chests, and the hot panting breaths against my cheek. I lazily turn my head to the side and kiss whatever stretch of skin may be there. The rough drag of stubble as he shifts slightly tells me it is probably a chin. Now it is warm, soft lips. Lips that, even in this blissful haze, know just how to drive me to the point of insanity.
I flop sideways onto the bed. Sirius rolls to face me, swinging his leg over mine as he wriggles closer. We exchange lazy kisses, eyes mostly closed, as our breathing returns to normal.
After a while, we smile at each other. I run my fingers through Sirius’s hair, half-heartedly fixing his parting. He brushes me off, sweeping his own hand through his hair once before pushing me onto my back and settling his head upon my chest.
His fingertips trace lazy patterns through my chest hair as I lace my fingers through the ends of his hair, letting it slowly fall free before repeating again.
Suddenly there is a strange noise, akin to flatulence, but accompanied by a strange, wet, vibrating sensation around my nipple. I jerk with alarm, looking accusingly down at Sirius, who is quite clearly trying to resist bursting into laughter.
“What,” I enunciate slowly, “was that?”
“A raspberry.”
There is quite a long pause, before I say: “A what?”
“You’ve never heard of a raspberry? Harry does it to the kids; well, just Lily now really, but they all used to love it.”
“What is its purpose?”
Sirius is finding it near impossible to contain himself by this point. “It doesn’t really have one. It’s affectionate. Just something silly.”
“Something silly?” A small chuckle does escape Sirius this time. My frown deepens. “If parents force it upon their children as a sign of affection, you shouldn’t be surprised I haven’t heard of it. And what on Earth would possess you to do it to me?”
He shrugs. “Dunno really, just wanted to see what would happen.” He leans up, trying to reach for a kiss. I oblige by dipping my head to meet him halfway.
When I pull away, his lips find my neck, blowing another raspberry there. A small shiver runs through me and I hear Sirius hum contentedly. “It feels kind of nice there, right?”
“I suppose so. Although the sound is rather off-putting.”
“Can I try it somewhere else?”
I nod. It feels quite unremarkable against my chest. My stomach is slightly more ticklish. My body is still rather desensitised from our previous activities, so the sensations aren’t as acute as they may have been beforehand. Not there however.
I whimper and pull my leg away, pushing at his shoulder to prevent him placing another raspberry between my upper thigh and groin.
However, he just goes for the other thigh.
“Pack it in, you cretin.”
I sit up, shoving at his shoulder, his chest, but he just continues to attempt to get his mouth on me. He starts to laugh as we wrestle.
“Sirius, you’re such a bloody child sometime—Ah! No teeth…”
And then we are both laughing.
I manage to pin him down, blowing long raspberries against his lower stomach as he laughs, writhes and begs for mercy.
He seems to have conceded. I crash down next to him, both still laughing as we pull each other close. As the laughter ebbs, I look up into his eyes and that’s when it happens.
The reason I brought him to this memory.
I concentrate on it. I let it swell. Until it is tangible in the room. So that I know Sirius cannot mistake it. So that Sirius will know exactly what this moment is to me.
The moment I truly fell in love with him.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him at the time. I feared that everything would change somehow. Instead, these words leave my mouth: “I’d like us to have a place together.”
Oh yes, marvellous. Well done, Severus, that statement has absolutely no likelihood of upsetting the cauldron.
I can’t berate myself for long. After all, everything did change.
And I am thankful that it did.
Now.
He has dropped his wand onto the bed. His fingers are twitching, trying their best to unfurl, trying to reach out for me. I take his hand, bringing it to my lips to briefly kiss his knuckles before returning our joined hands to rest on the bed.
‘Thank you.’
I try to smile, but I know it does not reach my eyes. I look to him, trying my best to drop my defences; to let my emotions dance across my face for him. “I love you, Sirius.”
‘I love you, Severus.’
My thumb rubs gentle circles on the back of his hand. I want to ignore the dawn starting to peek around the curtains. I cannot think about what is to come.
I have failed him.
His fingers twitch against the back of my hand and I know that he has sensed my despondency. I don’t know what to say. I want reassurance, but I know that there is none to be had. Yes, it has been my potion skills which have given us so many years together. It is also my potion skills which have failed him in the end, and that I cannot ignore. Would his life be any worse had we never become involved?
Perhaps it would have been improved.
“Sirius,” I pause mostly because I fear my voice will reveal my turbulent emotional state. I know I shouldn’t say it. I know that he will interpret my need to ask as some sort of failure on his part. Logic is outweighed by the need to soothe my irrationality.
“Have I made you happy?” I bow my head, allowing my hair to fall in front of my face. I can still see the Thoughtpad, but Sirius cannot see me. He cannot see the worried furrow across my brow. He cannot see the pulse in my cheek as I struggle to keep my emotions in check.
‘If I could change any one thing that ever happened between us,’
I wait with baited breath, but nothing else is forthcoming. “Yes?”
But the Thoughtpad stays clear and dull. I tilt my head enough to see him out the corner of my eye. Finally, it glows.
‘I wouldn’t. Not a single thing.’ He waited, so that I would see the sincerity in his eyes. His words sting. We have had cause to forgive each other for many misdemeanours over the years, even since our marriage, never mind if you take our school days into consideration.
“I regret many actions that I would rectify if I could. I am disappointed that you would not do the same.”
‘I never said I had no regrets, just that I wouldn’t change anything. After all, we wouldn’t be us without the sarcasm, stubbornness and explosive tempers. If we hadn’t been such little shits to each other in school, we might never have developed into the middle-age men who fell for each other.’
“Perhaps.”
‘That’s a yes, by the way, in short. You have made me happy. Happily ever after.’
“This is no fairy tale. Fairy tales don’t end in death.”
‘You clearly never read the originals. Besides, we didn’t promise ‘’til death us do part’. ‘Happily ever after’ is timeless. Limitless.’
“Its limit is in our separation,” I bite out before I can stop myself, “You may have lived out your happy ending, but I must live on. In loneliness.” I know that, for his sake, I should be glad that he has accepted his fate.
I am not glad. I am bitter. A Nundu does not change its spots.
‘And where will I be, if not in loneliness without you?’
“Oblivion.” I should care that it may hurt him to hear it. I don’t. I want him to understand why this is so difficult. If I regret it at all, it is only because I expect him to attempt to prove me wrong. Here come the citations from Harry. Priori Incantatem. The Resurrection Stone. Part of me wants to believe it.
‘If that is what helps you, hold onto it. I choose to believe that we will see each other again. When the time is right.’ It doesn’t help me. It suffocates me. It is too early a belief forced upon me. Too deeply ingrained.
“How can you be so optimistic, even now? In the face of—” I close my eyes, trying to de-clutter my mind. Attempting to ignore the panic threatening to overtake me. I need a distraction. To move. I need to do something.
“It is morning. We should get ready.” I do not want to, but they will be here on time regardless. I get up and pull Sirius’s dress robes from the cupboard.
Slytherin green, as we discussed.
I turn around and the Thoughtpad is flashing. I move to his side of the bed before peering down at it.
‘I have a request.’
“Go on.”
He does not respond immediately. Presumably he is weighing up how to word his request. I feel a knot forming in my chest as my brain chants, over and over: I can’t kill you, I can’t. Nor can I handle that conversation. Not again.
‘Can you dress me by hand?’
I catch his eyes for a moment. I feel the pull in my chest as the knot unwinds. The relief that I can do that for him. The knowledge that I can bring him some degree of comfort.
“Of course. May I still levitate you? It would be easier on both our bodies.”
‘That’s fine. I just want to feel your hands on me.’ I busy myself summoning and filling his basin to avoid looking at him again. I fear seeing my own feelings reflected in his eyes. More so, I fear that they will not be there. Perhaps the thought of leaving me isn’t tearing him apart inside. I don’t think I could bear it.
I strip him of his pyjamas, levitating only when necessary and casting Impervius on the sheets. I take the sponge, lingering in my strokes as I wet his body. I trace the scar on his foot, from our first attempt to teach the children Quidditch, before soaping his feet. His calf muscles slowly ease their tension as I massage the soap to a lather. I work up to mid-thigh and rinse him off with my wand, vanishing the excess water which has pooled on the sheet, unable to seep in.
I summon a towel and dry his legs in long, sure strokes. His eyes are closed, breathing relaxed, concentrating on my touch.
“I’m going to do your back next,” I softly tell him, so he is prepared to be levitated. I easily roll him face down before lowering him, one hand on his chin to gently guide his face to the side as his head reaches the pillow. My eyes linger over the curse marks crisscrossing his back, but I do not let my touch draw attention to them. That was the agreement for our final days together: reminisce, but don’t mention the war.
When I have finished with his back and turn him over again, I do caress the hex mark upon his hip, caused by my own wand. I have left many more marks upon his body over the years but just the one which time and potions could not fade. I still think it serves the damn fool right. He should have known how I would react to a surprise party, or any sort of party—we were married by then, after all.
There is only one location left to wash. I hesitate, remembering his earlier request for a ‘massage’, worrying that he will expect it of me. As I repeatedly wring out the sponge, I know I am stalling. A grunt from the bed breaks my concentration and my hand immediately flies to the Thoughtpad, placing his hand upon it.
‘Don’t tease, use the spell.’
With a few flicks of my wand, his groin is clean and the basin filled with hot, fresh water. I gently bathe his face with a flannel, then shave him as he looks up at me. My eyes concentrate on the blade.
We washed his hair yesterday, so a freshening charm will do. I lean over the end of the bed, hooking his feet into the leg holes of his underpants. His knees have bent inwards again so I spend another moment massaging his muscles until they can part. I slide up his pants, promptly dressing him to the left, as he would himself.
His robes, fitted for his able body, slide easily over his now too-lean frame. I inflate his pillow, easing him into a sitting position before brushing his hair.
Truly, I will miss these moments.
The realisation surprises me. As usual, Sirius gives me cause to question everything.
I levitate him downstairs, into his armchair in the study. The rushing sound of the Floo from the kitchen seems to suck the oxygen from the room. I fuss with Sirius’s robes a moment longer, making sure his Thoughtpad is comfortably placed, before sweeping from the room.
Kingsley greets me with a handshake, introducing the Healer beside him. I do not hear his name, as I do not care. I shake his hand curtly. The Floo flares to life beside them, interrupting Kingsley’s tedious observations about the weather.
Harry steps out, jaw set, eyes boring into me. His dark grey hair looks just as ridiculously unkempt as it ever did. He is shortly followed by Teddy, sporting his father’s shade of sandy brown hair. He edges his way awkwardly between Harry and the wall to embrace me. It is brief, unreturned, but I acknowledge it with a small smile as he steps back. They are staring at me, waiting. It is a struggle to find my voice.
“Sirius wishes to speak alone with Teddy and the Minister.”
“I am not here as Minister,” Harry snaps, “I am here for Sirius. Because you refused his dying wish.”
“Harry…” Teddy places his hand on Harry’s shoulder. They exchange a look which tells me they have already had this conversation. Teddy turns his attention to me, his hand still on Harry. “Is he in the study?”
I nod and they make their way through the hall and into the other room, closing the door behind them. Harry’s words bother me. I know first hand that a terminal diagnosis does not make killing any easier. I know how many years he will be haunted by it. And counting.
I excuse myself for a moment, heading downstairs to my lab. I do not know why I am opening the cupboard and removing the potion. I don’t really know why I made it, as I have had no inclination to use it until now. Even this moment, I am unsure. I slip it inside my robe pocket and return to the kitchen.
Teddy’s tear-stained face appears in the doorway from the hall as I reach the top of the stairs. The flecks of grey now show around his temples. He simply nods and returns to the study. I tilt my own head in agreement and Kingsley and the Healer follow.
Kingsley begins to read out the official decree from the Wizengamot. I have already signed it, so I am not listening. I am looking at Sirius, but he is not looking at me. His eyes are on Harry; pained and concerned.
I know what I must do.
When Kingsley rolls up the parchment, I pull the vial from my robes. The Thoughtpad flashes.
“What’s that?” Harry reads off, before looking up at me.
“Something to stop the pain.” I kneel beside his chair, addressing only Sirius.
‘Seems like a waste of a potion.’
I still don’t know if I can do this. I can feel my voice threatening to crack.
“Sirius. Let me do this one last thing for you. If you are ready.”
I hold his gaze as I see the recognition of his own words in his eyes. He opens his mouth.
“The effect is not immediate,” I say softly, as I bring the vial to his lips.
He drinks the potion, sealing his fate.
And mine.
I get to my feet, laying the empty bottle upon the table before leaning over him. Taking his face in my hands, I lay a lingering kiss upon his forehead. Every ounce of emotion I have ever felt for this man, pouring into him through that one last kiss.
The Thoughtpad glows, but I do not read it. I leave.
Harry is calling after me. Voices are being raised. I try to close the study door but it is wrenched from my grip. I reach for the front door but my arm is seized. I try to yank it free.
“Severus, where do you think you’re going?” Harry shouts at me in disbelief.
“Elsewhere,” I tightly respond, still trying to extricate myself from his grasp.
“But, you can’t! He needs you!”
“Needs me?” I bite out, venom seeping unbidden into my words, “In a few moments he will have peaceful oblivion. I must stay. I must suffer!”
Harry’s fist connects with my nose, accompanied by a most nauseating crunch.
“You selfish bastard, that’s your husband in there!”
“EXACTLY! He is my husband. I have done all I can for him. Now I must look after myself.”
“Harry!” Teddy calls as he steps out of the study, a shocked look crossing his features as he sees my face. I can feel the blood drying across my cheek where I swiped at it with my sleeve. The acute pain is a welcome distraction from emotional turmoil.
“You can’t just walk out of here, Severus! That pad thing, he was trying to talk to you—”
“We have both said all that is necessary.”
“Harry, leave him, Sirius said to let him go.”
“Teddy,” Harry sighs in frustration, “We can’t let him leave!”
“Yes, we can. Sirius wants us to. Now come on, right now.”
I tense at the urgency in Teddy’s voice. Harry has detected it too.
“What’s wrong?”
“The potion...” His eyes flicker to mine. Harry turns back to face me, eyes wide. With a choked gasp, he throws himself back through the door to the study, Teddy at his heels.
I am out on the street but now my feet do not know where to go. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me. I can feel pressure building up inside my skull as guilt, anger, resentment, regret and desperate denial fight for supremacy.
I take flight.
I soar rapidly, up, up and up. The wind whips harshly across my face, pummelling against my sore and bloodied nose, drawing drops of moisture from my eyes until I can hardly see. Still I continue up, panting in harsh breaths at the exertion of such speed.
The air is thinning.
I level off, welcoming the burning in my lungs as I draw inadequate breaths. The light-headedness is divine.
I drop to a more comfortable altitude, reducing my speed. I had quite forgotten how wonderful unsupported flight is.
Given that it was Riddle whom perfected and taught the spell, it is a pleasure I felt was best left in the past. I did allow myself to indulge on one occasion. A teenage Teddy morphed a pair of wings for himself and challenged me to prove the stories were true. It had only been the two of us and, as graceful as he was, he was unable to match my freedom of movement.
I am grateful that I have been a part of Teddy’s life. He is a very caring man. One of the few people who continue to thrust physical signs of affection upon me. True, it often irritates me, but there is something reassuring in his persistence.
Much to Sirius’s disgruntlement over the years, I have not understood physical intimacy. Outside of sexual congress, I feel no desire for the touch of another. For the most part, it vexes me, to be touched without due cause. Our family cannot understand it. The crux of the matter is their refusal to accept that I have not experienced sadness. Not since the age of approximately six, at least. It is not a moment I tend to share. Suffice to say, it began with that ghastly phrase from the Muggle book of parenting, ‘I’ll give you something to cry about’.
After that, I realised that sadness only feeds weakness and fear. It is anger, resentment and blame which make you strong. Those are my foundations—what makes me, me, at my very core.
However, the foundations are not as strong as they once were. They have been built upon, time and time again—drilled into, in places and refilled with hopeful ideals. I am beginning to realise just how much of the person I have become is due to Sirius’s influence.
Every facet of my being is linked to Sirius. My patience and impatience. My social skills and lack of. Right down to ridiculous details such as my penchant for blue cheese. Every time I take a steadying breath, stop to think before I speak, reach for the St Agur—it is because of his influence. Memories will pull forth unbidden, of what we had and what I have lost.
Although, I did not lose him.
I shoved him out the door.
I am not even certain that he is dead yet, and already I feel surrounded, overwhelmed, suffocated by mere memories. How can I face our family? How can I return to our home? Damn Sirius for forcing this upon me, while he—
Of course. I am a fool not to have thought of it sooner.
I look around, but I don’t know where I am, so I cannot hope to know the way. Instead, I concentrate and turn, Disapparating mid-flight.
Seeking my own oblivion.
With a twist and a pop, I plough face-first into the gates of Malfoy Manor.
Not quite what I had in mind. Apparating while travelling at speed and parallel to the ground was probably not the best of ideas. The pain in my nose has doubled and I appear to be bleeding again. Before I can finish gathering myself, I feel a small hand around my wrist.
All of a sudden, I am in Draco’s study.
“Merlin’s pants, Severus!” Draco calls as he hurries over to me. “Sit down. I’ll call for refreshments and we’ll get you cleaned up. Bonbie!”
“Oh do stop mithering, Draco, I am perfectly fine!” I snap, aggressively brushing him off as the elf who likely brought me from the gate reappears.
Draco shoots me a withering look. “Even if I didn’t happen to know that you’re still in yesterday’s robes, you look like shit. Sit down, or I will make you.”
I roll my eyes at him, but I take a seat. Truthfully, I do feel rather weary all of a sudden. He gives the elf some instructions and sends it on its way.
“May I?” he asks, pointing his wand at my nose. I acquiesce with a wave of my hand. The first charm stings as it cleans the blood from me. “It is broken. Brace yourself.”
“Oh, do get on with it,” I snap. I cannot contain a pained grunt as my nose grinds back into place. “How do you know I’m in yesterday’s robes?” I ask as a distraction. Until Draco mentioned it, I hadn’t realised myself. Staying up all night, the thought hadn’t occurred to me. I had been too preoccupied…
Draco drops down into the chair beside me with a sigh. “Potter arrived about two hours ago. He said you’d stormed off…”
I hadn’t realised I had been flying for so long. No wonder I am tired.
“He was worried about you, Severus.” I laugh bitterly. “Truly. He wanted to wait here until you arrived.”
I stare at Draco, wide-eyed. Oh please, no.
“No, I sent him away. I managed to convince him to leave you be for a while.”
I doubt that Harry’s and my own interpretations of ‘a while’ are even remotely similar.
“Harry was satisfied with Sirius’s explanation,” he almost mumbles, “About the Endless Sleep. He’ll smooth everything over so that there won’t be any repercussions, despite the changes of enabler and… method. Tea?”
I simply glare at him.
“Thought not.” He levitates two glasses of amber liquid over. I take mine with an appreciative nod. The glass is soon empty. “What can I do for you, Severus? You know you only need ask. Shower, bed, fresh robes, food?”
I stare at him levelly. “I want you to Obliviate me.”
He takes a deep breath. “Severus, I know that today has been difficult, but—”
“I am not asking you to remove just my memories of today.” For a moment, Draco looks taken aback, but he quickly composes himself.
“As a Healer, I cannot—”
“I am not asking you as a Healer, Draco. Please.”
He looks pained. “What exactly are you asking of me?”
“Take everything of him. Leave me only with Padfoot.” I will keep a portion of our love, my loss, in a more manageable dose. It is the perfect solution.
“Severus—That, how can you... You need to think this through.” Draco seems to be attempting to withhold his temper. I don’t really understand it.
“This is the right course of action.”
“Right?! For fuck’s sake, Severus! What about James, Al and Lily? Is it right for them to lose two grandfathers in one day? For Teddy and Harry to lose yet another link to their own parents?”
“At least I did not simply top myself. You know I have the means.” Draco seems hell-bent on missing the point entirely. It is rather vexing.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he smirks cruelly. “I know you, Severus.”
I had hoped to offer some perspective, but I was not prepared for his insight. He is right, of course. Those who fear death will not truly pass from the world, their disembodied spirit trapped in a meaningless existence for eternity. I drag on my anger, determined to get back to the point.
“I’ve played the doting husband, both the loved and the despised step-father and grandfather. It is time to do what is right for me!”
“This is not right, this is easy!” Draco’s cheeks are flushed red. He looks furious. “You are looking for the easy way out of this but it isn’t easy, Severus. Like it or not, you are an important part of many people’s lives. Even if you don’t think they are important to yours.”
His words cut me to the bone. I feel myself bleed. I want to speak. I want to take back the inferences I now realise I made. Nothing comes out.
I look up as his hand touches my knee. “Sleep. Bonbie has made you up a room if you do not feel ready to go home just yet.”
I find I really don’t know. I don’t know anything. What I want, how I feel, what to do, it’s all conflicting and overwhelming. I want to be back home, cocooned in familiarity, but I know I will only be bombarded by his absence. I wonder what has happened to the Thoughtpad; Sirius’s voice. Perhaps it sits upon his chair, or on the table beside it. Perhaps it lies on the floor, forgotten in its irrelevance now that its purpose is served.
Or perhaps that is myself.
“It won’t always feel like this. I promise you. I know. If you still want to discuss memory modification after the funeral, then I will listen.” The hand on my knee tightens.
I cannot help but glance up at Astoria’s portrait above the mantel. A single rose protrudes from an elegant, slender vase beneath it.
Yes, Draco knows.
One week later.
I exit the chapel, Amberley’s hand still firmly gripping my own as she walks beside me. Harry had broken down mid-eulogy, unable to continue but stubbornly refusing to sit down. When Teddy went to his aid, leaving myself solitary on the pew, Amberley did not hesitate. She stepped past her parents, ignoring the hushed protests and tugs at her dainty black dress. She boldly stepped to my side, pushing at me until I moved over for her. Sitting beside me, she silently took my hand into her lap. She hasn’t let it go since.
I stop at the floral tributes, gazing down at them unseeingly. Amberley lets some of her weight lean against my side, resting her cheek against ribs. I let my arm drape around her.
I want to go home. To be where my lack of social graces is irrelevant. I could immerse myself in the familiar and comfortable; potion making in my lab or reading before the fire. I could go to bed, close my eyes with my nose buried in his pillow and pretend for a while that nothing has changed.
Instead I must stand here as streams of teary-eyed people approach me. I have difficulty dealing with people at the best of times. There are many handshakes, forced smiles, ‘thank you’s and uncomfortable hesitations. Of course, there are curious observations about my choice of robes. I am fully aware that Gryffindor red is not suited to one of my pallor. Sirius and I agreed upon our robes for the symbolism, not due to vanity. The unfaltering pressure at my side keeps me grounded.
Lily approaches. After her words attempting comfort, she reaches out for Amberley. My girl resolutely and silently shakes her head.
“It’s quite alright, Lily,” I assure her, and she moves on. Draco, Scorpius and James keep it brief.
As Albus approaches with his daughters, I inwardly thank his tact for bringing them in favour of his paramour. I do not see the girls as much as I used to now that they are well into their teens. They are growing up so beautifully.
Teddy steps up and I prepare for an embrace. He looks awful. His hair is flecked with more grey than I have ever seen on him, his face is flushed and his eyes red. He doesn’t say anything. He simply takes my hand in both of his, holds my gaze for a moment, and moves away. I assume he is trying to avoid yet more tears.
“Severus.” Harry’s voice is thick from crying.
A take a deep breath and try to usher Amberley in the direction of her mother. She only holds tighter.
He is in front of me now. Eyes also red, currently downturned. Chest heaving. I have avoided him for the whole week, dreading this moment.
“It was supposed to be me. I really thought I could do it.” There is a slight quiver in his jaw. He seems to crumple. “Thank you…” he whispers almost desperately as he throws himself against me, hands clutching at my back.
In my shock, I do not immediately notice a small hand letting go. I do notice the same hands wrapping my arms around Harry as he sobs into my shoulder.
“That’s what he said,” Harry whispers through his tears, his body shaking in my arms, “His last words were for you. ‘Thank you, love, for every single moment. Even the shit ones’!” A broken laugh escapes him.
And I hold him. I hold Harry Potter to my chest as he cries.
And I cry.
Great sobs wrack my body. My grief flows freely, sucking in desperate breaths. My arms around Harry are necessary, clinging back at me just as needily. I feel like I may never want to let go.
With this, the last of the foundations which made up Severus Snape crumble into dust. All that is left, is all that Sirius gave me.
I am Severus Black.
And I will not surrender.
Fin
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no subject
Date: 2016-03-11 05:54 pm (UTC)It's been a very long time since a fic made me cry, thank you for the beautiful writing that made it possible.
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Date: 2016-03-21 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-11 06:58 pm (UTC)The writing, the pace, the structure... they are all just pure perfection. The style draws you in, brings you into the nooks and crannies of their relationship, to the point where I could have read 10k more about these two and their rocky but tender history. Everything is so well thought out, so meticulous and somehow it all flows wonderfully in this heart-felt fiction.
Both of their characters, but Severus's specifically, are so true to form, so deep and complex, I could feel them come to life immediately. Such a sad subject, and a difficult situation for them both, it aches to read how they are drowning in pain and hurt as they attempt to navigate through what is clearly the end. (well more so Severus than the solemn accepting Sirius)
This is one of those stories that you not only cry as you read, sharing your sadness with the characters, but one that can make you choked up as you reflect back on it later, leaping into your mind suddenly throughout the day and dragging you back into it's world.
The children, the family, the connections that Severus gains through Sirius and the comfort those offer in the end is just stunning.
Oh and that ending, that heart breaking ending. So moving with glimmers of hope and love even through the dark misery of what must occur. I am moved, floored, more so than the first read through. I'm not sure I can write more and still be coherent (have I even been coherent throughout this comment?) so let me just say this is a work of art, a real masterpiece and you should be undeniably proud.
no subject
Date: 2016-03-21 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-11 10:36 pm (UTC)Severus' honesty about his feelings is quite brutal and seemingly harsh at times, but so incredibly in character. The 'children' and 'grandchildren' are also very well-drawn secondary characters, and the moments this couple share in those last days are so real I can see them clearly. It is a powerful story - Gods, I wish I could truly convey how powerful it is, but I'm a mess.
Thank you for such a sensitive, touching, and REAL story. It will not be forgotten for a very long time.
no subject
Date: 2016-03-21 08:54 pm (UTC)The secondary characters all had mini-biographies of their own, including a lot of details that didn't make the finished story, so it's great to know that behind the scenes work came across in the finished article, in a way.
I would say I'm sorry that I made you cry, but if you hadn't have cried, I wouldn't have done this story justice, so sorry but I'm not sorry!
Thank you so much for a truly lovely comment!
no subject
Date: 2016-03-12 01:55 am (UTC)You handled this thoughtfully and with skill.
They are stripped to their bare selves here, and you did it gradually, with such sensitivity that I am in awe.
Really fabulous work!
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Date: 2016-03-21 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-12 02:20 am (UTC)Well done. Well done, well done, well done.
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Date: 2016-03-21 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-12 05:59 am (UTC)There are no words. I'm speechless. This is just phenomenal. I truly wish I could form the words to give you all the praise you deserve, but the words escape me. I will say that I have read fics beyond count that have made me feel all kinds of emotions, but this fic was the first to ever actually make me truly cry.
This was just so incredible.
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Date: 2016-04-04 03:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-04 06:21 pm (UTC)