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Usual loud voices and involved conversations about whatever happened in the world and in the lives of visitors turned into whispers with no glimpse of happiness in the Leaky Cauldron. Wizards talked, ate, drank and clinked their dishes mechanically to keep at least some illusion of normalcy around, but nothing was normal these days. They were losing this bloody war and no one knew which miracle would help to turn the tide of what was coming.
Sirius came here to feel at least a little more alive as a member of the Wizarding World, tired of hiding among muggles and posing as one of them, but, god, the moment he stepped inside the pub he regretted the decision. What had he expected anyway? A party? It was too early for them all to think “Well, to hell with it, we’ll live how we can, there may be no tomorrow”. The initial shock from several loud victories of Voldemort and his minions just didn’t allow it.
He still spent half an hour in this most depressive pub of his life. Maybe hoping for something to change, maybe just to give Tom a couple of galleons. But he couldn’t bear it anymore, feeling like this heavy air and these suspicious glances would crush him if he stayed even for a second. He took a sip of his remaining firewhisky and turned to leave, but noticed a familiar figure, hunched over a book at the other side of the badly lit room.
When did he even come here?
Just the silhouette caused a slight sting to his heart. They hadn’t seen each other for around half a year. Sirius asked himself if the git was even alive sometimes. He tried looking for the answer but all he got was nothing. No one heard anything, no one saw anything. And now the answer was just before his eyes, living and breathing.
The right decision was to just leave. They figured everything out and put an end to their affair in Hogwarts, the jury did their duty, the sentence was announced and carried out.
But he knew he would regret it if he just left. He needed to try, because all these months he couldn’t stop thinking and searching, hoping to find at least one indirect mention of a familiar name, hoping for something he had to eventually accept as part of himself.
Sirius grabbed the half empty glass and went to the occupied table, not sure what to say or to do. He made a couple of steps and fell on the chair across from none other than Severus Snape, who slowly withdrew his gaze from his book and looked at the uninvited guest. His big black eyes widened, but he quickly pulled himself together.
“Black,” he said affirmatively as if just stating it for himself rather than as a greeting, slight irritation passing over his pale face.
“Snape,” answered Sirius, leaning forward and looking at him closely. Is one half of the year enough to change the person so much? His hair was straighter and shinier, not the usual dirty knots he used to have. His skin didn’t give an idea of a deadly disease anymore and even his posture, still far from perfect, now wasn’t an animal its owner didn’t know how to approach.
“What do I owe the honour?” Snape tilted his head to the side, trying to act as if he was in control but shutting the book too loudly.
“I had time to think about some things,” Sirius blurted, immediately moving the conversation in the direction he expected to touch later.
Snape raised his eyebrows.
“I’d say I’m glad to hear that is how you use your time these days, Black, but, I’m sure, the conclusion of your thoughts might sound less pleasing to me,” Snape said, putting his book on the table and crossing his arms. “So?”
Did he always talk like that? Snape was good with words, but now every one of them sounded like it was calculated and weighted at least half an hour ago.
“I want to try again,” he forced himself to say after an uncomfortable pause. It was humiliating to open up and say he was wrong, but it was freeing and he sighed with relief. He found words quite good when it came to quick unserious relationships with flirting, funny banter and no strings attached. He found words even better when it came to closest friends, he always knew how to support and reassure. But with this type of feeling which grows in you to tie your heart in a painful knot and hold it hostage until it gets freed by a couple of words or shattered by them — he was as far from perfect as you could be.
Snape’s eyebrows moved up again and his lips formed into a crooked smile.
“You want… That?!.. Are you bloody kidding me?” he asked, trembling from rage but keeping it inside and not allowing it to touch the strength of his low voice, although his face still reddened. “Black, have you gone mad like the rest of your family?”
“On the contrary, I came to mind!”
“It’s just another joke of yours, you were and are absolutely insufferable-” Snape moved to get up, looking around as if searching for a group of Marauders sitting at another table or hiding under one to jump out and laugh at him, but Sirius grabbed his hand before he and his mind went away and too far.
“It’s not and I am, but that's not the point! Can you listen to me for one bloody minute of your precious time?”
Hell, he shouldn’t have phrased it like that, Snape frowned, and Sirius was sure he’d say something vile and apparate immediately to just be as far from him as possible, but Snape stayed in his place, looking at their now connected hands.
“...Alright. You have your minute of my precious time,” he said coldly, glancing around again, but then moved his gaze back to their hands.
“So-”
“I’m counting,” Snape added sharply. Sirius rolled his eyes, but continued:
“Great. Then don’t interrupt,” he smirked, but the smirk disappeared in a second and he sighed. Again. “I fucked up. That time at school. I was a coward. I was afraid that James and others wouldn’t understand and I blamed everything on that girl and her love potion tying me to you, but that potion didn’t matter.”
“You became another person when I gave you the antidote-”
“Well, it helped me to grow a pair and make a couple of obvious conclusions — and, hey, don’t interrupt! — but it all disappeared when I got the antidote,” he said, annoyed at himself and no one else. “But everything between us was real. And I was a dunderhead to not pursue it then. I’ve had time to think about this in these months and…”
“And I also see how happy James and Lily are even in these dark times and I feel pain every time thinking you are not with us and not with me”, he wanted to add, but couldn’t bring himself to just put his regret so raw and bleeding on the metaphorical plate between them.
“And I promised myself that if I see you, I’ll try to talk you into the stupid idea of being with me again. And even stupider one of doing it openly.”
Snape hadn't said anything but looked at Sirius piercingly, his black irises seemed even bigger than before, turning him into a caricature of a cat which couldn’t figure out what was in front of it.
“Dunderhead,” he suddenly snorted, looking to the side. “Dunderhead. Bloody dunderhead.”
“You didn’t have to repeat it three times, but I’ll take that,” Sirius’ eyebrow twitched. Still, he stopped himself from answering with something worse.
“I’m just fascinated by the choice of words, Black. And what changed now? What helped you to grow a pair this time?” Severus frowned and looked at him.
“I decided that if James is my best friend, he must understand. If we accept each other fully, then these feelings are just another part of me.”
Severus’ face slowly smoothed but his expression became slightly pained.
“I just came here to have dinner,” he said in a tired voice.
“You say it like you have a new proposal of a relationship every day here,” Sirius smirked. Felt a little worried, though, and Snape looked at him with a challenge in his eyes.
“And what if it’s exactly like that?”
“Tell me who they are,” Sirius answered simply and looked around. No one was interested in them in the slightest and it was luck.
“And what will you do?” Snape asked curiously.
“I’ll kill them and then I’ll take you on the greatest date in your life,” Sirius smiled widely, now grabbing Severus’ hand, which he still didn’t let go off, with both of his hands.
Severus closed his eyes, sighed, deciding something for himself in that too smart head of his, and finally smiled. Not with that bitter or crooked smile he often squeezed out of himself, when the jokes didn’t land or when he himself left vile comments left and right, feeling victorious in his hurtfulness.
That smile was one he kept for Lily, when they were friends and smiled happily at each other observing another bit of magic and eager to learn more about it. And the one he kept for Sirius, when they met secretly in empty corners of the castle to build their own little world where they weren’t enemies and where they childishly pretended they had never hated each other at all. Until Sirius’ friends did something again they both couldn’t turn a blind eye to.
That smile became sadder in these months, but what didn’t? Sirius wanted to kiss it, glue it to Severus’ face with a kiss as much as before and hear a low cautious laugh he grew to love so much.
“Alright, then. For old time’s sake,” he squeezed Sirius’ hand lightly, and Sirius squeezed it back tightly and warmingly, hoping to never let go. This time never let go.
He was naive those days, but he arrogantly believed otherwise.