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The Great Hall may just be James' favorite place. How could it not be? When he was here, he had everything he wanted right within reach. He had his friends all around him, Lily within eyesight, delicious food, and of course it was one place Snivellus couldn't always avoid him. Even in classes he could hide under the eyes of their teachers, though James knows they won't do much; so long as James isn't too disruptive. But here he's free to keep an eye on the snake. Anonymous within the crowd of children, under the cover of a noisy crowd.
"Greasy git" A voice growls from beside him. Sirius.
James turns to his best friend, realizing he'd been eyeing the Slytherin too. Sirius having followed his line of sight, leaving them both glowering across the hall at the other table. Sirius absent-mindedly rubbing at his still swollen elbow. They'd gotten the jump on the snake just the other day. Sirius had wanted to test out a new jinx, nothing too bad, but apparently Snape hadn't liked it. He'd thrown back...something, maybe a jinx, whatever it was, had made Sirius scream like his arm had been broken. Then it had reddened and swelled. Even Madame Pomfrey was convinced Sirius must have hurt it during practice. Something physical.
"Perhaps you should hold onto your broom better next time, Mister Black." She had said. But of course she always seemed to favor their rival. James couldn't tell why, but she'd always lean towards seeing 'the best' in the prat. Like Lily used too. Telling them to "leave that poor boy be."
Focusing back on Snape. James nudges Sirius. "How's the arm, Padfoot?"
"Could use some retribution. Other than that, fine." Sirius turns back to his breakfast with a huff. "I can't believe that's the one time he gets away with it. My bloody arm looked about ready to fall off."
Remus scoffs as he raises his cup of tea to his lips. But doesn't say anything.
James side eyes him playfully, then returns to his own breakfast. There's not much to see anyways. Snape is being exceedingly normal this morning. Well, as normal as the other boy can get. He's got on his usual robes (merlin, they must be the only ones he owns), same greasy hair to his shoulders, and pointed nose. If anything he seems a little more filled out this morning, perhaps wearing more layers to combat the cooling temperatures. Winter is well on it's way.
"I still think you should have just left him be. He wasn't really even doing anything. That time." Remus speaks up, shrugging off his own words halfway through. James and Sirius shrug too.
"It's always something with him though, you know that Moony." Sirius gives him a sharp smile. "I'm hurt, you have to agree with me." He then whines, not caring about the looks some of the other Gryffindors send his way. For them it's the whining of a spoiled pureblood, for the Marauders it's that of an antsy dog.
"The book he was reading was dark, Moony. Like dark-dark." Peter adds from Jame's other side. "Maybe it didn't have obvious spells, but some Magic Theories can be even more dangerous to get trenched in. You can just feel the dark magic that comes off him. Like he's steeped in it."
"See, even Peter can sense he's on a dark path. Like many Slytherin before him." Sirius gives Remus another sharp smile from across the table.
"Even me?" Peter questions. "I'll trick the bat into hexing your other arm off." His fall-faded, sun-freckled cheeks rounding as he tries to mirror one of Black's famous devil-may-care smiles. It doesn't work, but the other three boys think that's what does make it work.
Sirius laughs. "I meant no offense, only that even the more...gentle of the Marauders smells bad news from a mile away."
"Coming from the same bloke that assured me Wormtail isn't so bad. Is cute, in fact." Peter flicks a piece of bacon at Sirius, who takes it and open mouth chews it at the thrower. "And gentle? I've thrown my fair share of spells his way. More than Remus ever would."
"Only when it's clear we're winning..." Remus mutters, ignored. Nobody bothers pointing out how good of a dueler Remus actually is. Nobody bothers pointing out that by 'gentle' Sirius, not so subtly, meant 'trepid' either.
"Wormtail is a fine name, and Snape is a greasy bat. All I'm hearing is that I'm right, and that I'll always be made to suffer for it." Sirius laments.
"Quiet, Sirius." James shakes his head. "Remus just likes to keep us out of trouble. Right?"
"It's a full-time job, apparently. One that would go smoother if I wasn't constantly worrying about you two finally pushing Snape off the deep-end. If he's truly going Dark as you all claim, why test him?"
"We're keeping Lily safe, first and foremost. And we're steering him back to the light. Ya' know, teaching him a lesson. That's why I burned the bloody thing." James excuses without pause.
He had. The moment after he'd made sure Padfoot was alright, he'd turned and set the book alight. Snivellus hadn't said anything, but his face had twisted, and his lips had pulled back into an angry sneer. James assumed it was an expensive book. Not something Snape was able to buy. Probably stolen, James thought. With a cover that had been thick, made from black and thin leather; and pages uneven and yellowing at the edges, like a dog's teeth. As it burned, James saw carefully scrawled annotations. The handwriting was cursive and neat, most likely a woman's. It wasn't that far off from Lily's own handwritting.
Even Sirius laughs at James. "I don't know about all that. I for one know he's already too far gone. You ask me, I say alls fair. If a...war- is brewing, I'd bet he's already the enemy. These are just scermishes."
"Oh don't be ridiculous." Remus scoffs again. But his eyes fill with unease.
"Whatever, it's Snape, Snivellus. Nobody cares. I for one won't feel bad for anything we give him. If he wanted to fit-in, he would. He chooses to be like this, so I'll choose to make him fight for it." Sirius looks back across the hall. "See, he must enjoy it. See how he instigates." He then gives the Slytherin table a subtle middle finger.
When the others turn, Snape is meeting Sirius's eye. They are narrow, still angry from the other day. James feels...a hint of something in his chest, but he buries it quick. Those impossibly black eyes have always made him uncomfortable, even if he'd never tell the git or his friends. Once the Slytherin notices all four Marauders looking, he quickly returns to his breakfast. His lips turning down into a frown, face pinched, and eyes looking anywhere but the Gryffindor table.
"Just take a break today. That's all I'm asking. It may be the last weekend we have before we get snowed in. Let's enjoy it. Maybe take a walk or look for new secrets to add to the map? Come on guys, when's the last time we had fun without Snape?" Remus gestures with his hands, voice taking on a purposfully condescending tone. "Huh? Huh? I see some ears perking up at 'finding secrets passages.'"
"We have plenty of fun without Snivellus." Sirius adds, defensive.
"So you'll have no trouble proving it then." Remus says before downing the rest of his tea.
"Of course. I can be a good boy when I want to be." Sirius finally relaxes, seemingly forgetting about Snape. "I'm kind of tired of the jinxes anyways. Can't fight evil everyday."
"Good, Padfoot." Remus nods his approval before turning to James. "Prongs?-" His eyes flick fast to Peter, raising a finger "I already know you'll see reason." Peter lowers his own accusatory finger, most likely thinking he was being overlooked. "Prongs?" He turns his pointed finger on James.
"Fine, we'll make it a Snape-free day. But I can't promise he won't start anything!" James adds on at the end.
"When does he ever start in on you lot?" Remus asks. Clearly already having his own version of the answer.
"Sorry, Moony. But like right now." Sirius teases. His hand directing Remus' chin towards the Slytherin table without taking his own eyes off Padfoots' favorite stress toy.
The other two look where Sirius directs Remus. James would never say it aloud, but merlin he thinks for the hundredth time, Sirius really does have a Black's instincts.
There is an unfamiliar but polished owl making a ruckus at the table. Making a sea of black and green waves crash about on the benches as Snape tries to push the thing away. But the owl is persistent and professional.
"Snape's got mail." One of the Slytherins calls, sounding surprised. Snape never gets mail. James is pretty sure he's never had an owl so much as look at him. He and Sirius used to joke that a crow probably delivered his letter of acceptance into Hogwarts. Maybe the dumb bird having delivered it by accident, and it was someone else's letter.
"I assure you I don't!" The boy cries as the owl hops all over his plate. It gestures eagerly with the letter. It's eyes never leaving Snape's.
"Seems like you do." Another adds in.
One leans in close putting an arm around Snape's shoulders. Then he sneers into Snape's ear. James can't read lips, not really, but he makes out 'open', 'filthy', and 'half-blood'. It makes Jame's stomach twist, he's used to reading words like 'filthy' and worse off Slytherin lips.
The black haired boy flushes, embarrassed and overwhelmed, before snatching the letter away and hurriedly leaving the Great Hall.
The Marauders watch him go.
"It's probably nothing interesting. It's none of our business anyways." Remus warns in a low voice. His eyes move between James and Sirius. "No, James-!"
The boy just pushes up his glasses and stands to leave. "What? I'm curious. No harm to be done." He grins at Remus before raising a brow at Sirius. The other teen grins just as wide and stands.
Then all four are following their favorite Slytherin out. Breakfast isn't even halfway through before five students are missing from their seats.
Their footsteps echo off the sandy, stone walls. James looks down each passage. No sign of him.
"Who has the map?" He whispers, the words nearly silently echoing into the cool morning air, still stagnant in the dusty castle.
"I do." Peter says, taking the folded parchment from his robes and muttering the words.
Sirius takes it from him. He moves to James' side. They unfold the paper together, having questioned correctly that Snivellus may not have returned to the dungeons. He is headed outside.
"Let's go." James says. He steps forward, ready to dart away, when long fingers lock around his bicep. "Moony-"
"What are you hoping to accomplish here?" The pale-brunette asks. "Let's just leave it. This isn't worth our time. We're going to get into trouble."
"How do you know that, Moony?" Sirius asks.
"Wasn't talking to you." Remus chastises in a way that's never worked before. They all know it's all actually passive in nature.
"We're just curious." James assures. "No harm to be done."
Then they are moving down the halls with varying degrees of determination. James at the lead, but only because Sirius is easing up enough to remain just a hair behind, still at his side. The walls roll by as they twist and turn, fast on Snape's tracks. James glances to see a happy smile gently tugging at Sirius's lips. It's small and soft. Satisfied as he looks to James and let's it light up his eyes more.
Sirius has always loved to chase. Well, no, that's not really it. Padfoot loves to chase. He especially loves to chase things with James. Maybe it has to do with them being fucked up in some way. Maybe Sirius is...more...less different than they thought. With his family, the way that it is. Maybe it simply has to do with them being Animegia. Self-trained Animegia. Whatever the case, chasing Snivellus like some hare through a forest, has always made James and Sirius feel like the best of friends. With growing tensions and the pains of reaching maturity; realizing it's your very classmates that are bearing arms against you, this is comradery.
Unfortunately for Snivellus, this made him the railroad spike on all his classmates' displaced aggression and mistrust. Those who thought him evil. Those that knew him lukewarm. Those that didn't care and simply found him repulsive regardless. Lily had always been closest to the last. Maybe not repulsed, but definitely uncomfortable. Rightfully so, if you asked literally anyone with a brain and two grains of empathy. But still, Severus would always wonder if that hard fought quirk of her lip, was all in his head. She was growing distant, which even Severus understood, but she shrugged it off. She hugged him tight and told him they'd talk soon. Then she'd bite her tongue all day. Then she bit her lips as a shocked laugh tried to crawl out of her. Severus tells himself he imagined it. He apologized. He didn't deserve forgiveness. He doesn't get it. He wonders if she felt relieved more than anything. He hates himself for thinking about her like that. She's his sister. His only friend.
But the Marauders don't know this. And they would never imagine the feelings went so deep. So twistedly deep. Snivellus had a dirty, evil, dangerus crush, that was that.
They slow as they come upon a slouched figure. Snape has his back to them. The letter is opened in front of him, the wax seal crumbled and hanging loosely down connected to a red ribbon. They can't see much, but they can see it looks cookie-cutter. Crisp. Not your average house parchment. Snape seems engrossed in it.
"What you got there Snivy?" Black barks out as they come within shouting distance.
Severus doesn't react. His fingers only tighten on the parchment, his black eyes eating the ink. His ears ringing.
"Snivellus? My mate asked you something." Potter threw an arm around Black.
Still no response.
"Is...is he bewitched?" Lupin and Pettigrew utter the words in a jumbled race. Unclear who starts it and who ends it.
"Snape!" Potter calls.
This frozen state persists, the lanky arms beginning to tremble.
The Marauders pick up their pace, approaching Snape in the most casual way since first year. Years of high defenses and sharp offense briefly pausing at their enemies odd tactics.
They stand behind him moments later. The cold air from the entrance fully breezing by them. Aside from the overhanging clock tower above them, they are all but outside. Potter lifts a hand to pat Snape on the arm. He's surprised by the thin amount of fabric between their contact. Even with the layers, it feels like the contact is too close. He jokes to himself that he should have put oven mitts on first.
Black leans over him to try and read the letter. He clumsily ignores his own surprise at being let so close. His cheek almost brushing Snape's.
Severus finally snaps out of it.
The lanky teen pulls harshly away, gasping in a cold breath as he turns on the group. His thin fingers fumbling to fold and stow the parchment. He places it at his breast, between his undershirt and woolen vest. His arms quickly jerking his robes closed around himself.
"What do you lot want? I don't have the patience for your games today." His voice is knife sharp and already hinting threat. Black eyes flickering between them.
"Just polite conversation, Snivellus. That's all." Potter gives him a charming smile. Snape rots a little at the sight.
"You seemed out of it, we were calling for you." Potter continues. "That letter of yours must be interesting. You know, you never get mail." He steps closer, Snape stays put and refusing to give up anymore footing than he already has. "From whom did you receive it? What's it say?" Potter's voice goes from playful, to a hint proper, to a hint mean. He knows Snape hates it. He hates that they always refuse him the forthrightness they know he actually understands.
"None of your business, Potter!" The name hissed darker than any curse. He tilts his head at Potter, up like a proud creature. "I want nothing to do with you." The words almost sounding how they should, how they usually do. But there's a wobble in them.
Lupin makes an intrigued noise. Noting the trembling of Snape's chest. His breathing is already growing sharper. There's a nearly unnoticeable hastening of a heartbeat. Lupin hears it though, all of it.
"Just tell us and we'll let you go." Black counters. He steps closer too. "Don't even think about cursing me again. I'm not in mood." He adds lowly, as if laying the ground rules to a duel. This too always gets to Snape.
The Slytherin's jaw tightens. Shame, and something else, suddenly fighting in his eyes.
"I'm leaving. Don't follow me." He bites out. Moving to do just that. Daring to turn his back on them.
Severus isn't even running before he's being chased down. His wand snapping off fast and harsh hexes. Many of which heavily disorienting his persuers. His squeaky shoe falls echoing out into the foggy morning as he flees out of the castle.
Gravel chunks underfoot, soon giving way to dewy grass, then thicker blades that begin wetting the cuffs of the boys' trousers. Snape runs with no clear direction, just away. He keeps throwing back hexes and spells all geared towards repelling attackers. Half of the Marauders feel, something at least akin to, punch-drunk as they begin going downhill.
"Piss off!" Snape hisses back at them, threat clear.
"Not on your life!" Cries Potter.
They stumble after him. The hexes being the only thing keeping them from overtaking him. Snape knows for a fact he can't outrun Potter or Black. Lupin and Pettigrew lag behind, wands out as well, but hesitant to get within range of Snape's spells. The stag and dog don't care. The stinging is part of the game. An important part.
If Snape didn't fight back, it wouldn't be the same. Both boys need him running, fighting, cursing. It makes it all the better when they finally get him. When he's docile for once, overcome by them, panting, maybe bleeding- depending on the kind of fun the group of boys had with each other- and finally completely out of fight. Sirius would, everytime he was able, stare Snivellus down after. Locking eyes and taking in all the pain and fury he finds there. But never tears. Sirius never really has been able to get that. He wants Severus' tears. Wants his wavering, red, angry eyes to fill with unbidden tears. For James to make some kind of remark like 'Aw is Snivellus finally earning his name? Never thought I'd ever actually see you blubbering.' Something that would make Severus even more pitiful. Sirius wants to finally show Severus that he always could. That Severus' tears were always his to force out if he'd wanted to.
Sirius never tells his friends about these feelings. He never tells them that he's been thinking about a tear-stained Snivellus for years. It feels like too much. Maybe for even James and Peter. Neither Mums-most-special-boy or the spineless cheerleader would really know what to make of it. He knows Remus would probably suggest a Mind Healer. Though he'd never insist. Sirius thinks Remus wouldn't force him to do anything, not even get help.
So instead he pushes harder after Snape with a snarl.
Snape is running out of spells. He's gone through practically his whole arsenal, that wouldn't kill the fool's, and they are still right at his heels. Their wands providing shields and repelling Snape's quills. He feels like a fat, useless porcupine. His back getting bare and wiry as the protective spines are discarded one after the other.
Snape can feel himself growing desperate as none of his magic seems to be enough to shake them. His heart thunders in his chest. He forces himself to stop looking back, he focuses on running. Head down, heart in his throat, jaw begining to ache as he realizes he's headed for the forest. A few more hexes are thrown over his shoulder as he runs for the treeline.
"Out of bounds, Snivellus!" Black shouts, as if expecting Snape to turn on them. Honestly, he does. Snape's learned to break as few rules as he can when it becomes clear it'll come to blows. Usually not wanting to add theft, vulgar language, or trespassing into the Forbidden Forest- to his list of charges. But today is different, Snape keeps going.
Black feels his jaws twist into a smile.
"Must be real important. Real interesting. Whatever it is you're so determined to hide from us. Snake!" Black keeps going, words coming out just a bit mad.
"Maybe it's..." Lupin more or less mouths his thoughts to himself. But Pettigrew catches it, with their jogging pace.
"Maybe some kind of Death Eater acceptance letter?" Pettigrew gleans from Lupin's hushed thoughts.
He repeats the other boy's words louder.
The words flip a switch in Potter and Black. The tension screaming in the air shifts a little.
"No- no, mates!" Lupin doesn't have time to curse himself before the pair are putting their athletic physics to work.
Snape is only able to throw a few hexes before his persuers are too close to risk it. He forces himself to run faster than he ever has before. His gangly legs only able to do so much.
Trees flash by as Snape moves deeper into the forest. Although he knows the pair are holding back just enough to get a good chase out of him; Snape can feel they grow uneasy the deeper they get. His hair stands on end when they begin casting for real.
Snape barely darts behind a thick tree trunk before Potter is casting a stunning spell. The bark shredding at the impact. Black casts the same one, angling the shot from the side so debris puff up into Snape's face.
Snape let's his own spells fly as Potter and Black take partial cover. They've effectively triangulated on him, making him feel pinned down and exposed.
"I'm warning you!" Snape screams out as dirt and nettles spray in the air. "Please go away!" The please is new. It catches the attention of all four Marauders.
"Please? You really are desperate, aren't you Snivy." Black barks out a laugh. "Must be quite the letter."
"I can't help but agree, Snape." Lupin's voice calls out. Diplomatic, but still thin. He sounds like a wannabe action star. An unconvincing 'Nobody here has to get hurt' to all who hear it. "I'm sorry, but at this point, you've made yourself look very suspicious."
"If you have nothing to hide, why run?" Pettigrew calls as well. His eyes meeting Lupin. They stand back, away from the battle. Overseeing. Each agreeing that something is off.
"It's my personal property. You aren't entitled to see anything. You'll simply have to take my word. It's nothing! -It's nothing that any of you have any business sticking your noses into!" Snape yells back, the venom dripping from his words doing more to show fear than anything else.
"I haven't done anything to deserve this!" Snape's words grow a sharp, mad edge. Sounding more like Black. He repeats them again, silently and to himself. His head suddenly feeling light, top heavy, fuzzy, and dimming all at once. Like the worst kind of runners high.
His breathing is becoming more panicked. Unraveling. Like a spool of ratty, old Christmas ribbon. His wooden base doing little to keep it together. The length of ribbon cut too short for the last few wraps to be of any use.
The hexes being flung at Potter and Black take a new hue. They darken. The spells cracking sharper, louder, through the air.
"There's that Death Eater spirit, Snivellus! Let's see what you got!" Black says, emboldened by the dangerous shift in the air. He returns with his own spells, putting more intent into them.
Potter keeps his back pressed firm against his tree. The Forbidden Forest coming to undead-life. Darker magic making the air filthy and heavy. Both Black and Snape's wands ringing through the air like cursed tuning forks.
"This is getting out of hand." James calls over to Sirius.
"So let's finish this then."
With that, the friends are progressing, advancing, on Snape.
They throw harsh spells, trying to keep Snape pinned while they move in closer. They don't care to notice much, but Peter begins advancing too. He creeps in with James and Sirius. Throwing in his own supportive jinxes to keep Snape on the defensive. He earns a pleased, toothy smile from the pair when one of his spells draws a hushed swear from Snape.
"Atta Boy, Wormtail!" Sirius says.
But then Snape is responding. His mouth and wrist rapidly flicking this way and that as he attempts to fight them off. Some spells he doesn't even need to speak.
And something changes.
Grief is welling up inside of Severus like it never has before. A deep, aching, liquid pain filling him up. He feels wrung out completely, then flush with volume again. His magic seems to like the feeling. He feels...oddly- good enough. The fear turning almost righteous as he watches realization, skepticism, and surprise roiling within the Marauders. They begin stepping backwards. Forced into a hesitant retreat.
"Jesus" Remus gasps as he watches. Not 'Merlin', not 'Blimey~', but 'Jesus'. The muggle-flavored shock plain to see.
Things don't usually go like this. They aren't supposed to.
Then Peter is being blasted onto his back, the fight leaving him as he scrambles back to Remus' waiting side. His chest burning.
Sirius is petrified by a hex. Growling words lost on his lips as his body struggles to overcome the stunned haze that suddenly drops him. His soul so strong, but his body becoming unmoveing.
"What's gotten into him?" Peter whispers the question into the open air.
James fights the longest, despite the letter having completely vanished from his mind. Instead his eyes are narrowed on his rival. At least he thinks this is his rival. He's beginning to suspect some sort of trick with polyjuice.
He fends off Snape long enough to be forced back within feet of Remus and Peter. Sirius left grounded just behind Snape. Then a bright blast of magic breaks through his own defensive spell, shattering it and hitting him hard in the nose. He feels both his glasses and nose creak. Both bending hard until they feel like they have to give. James loses the air in his lungs as he's slammed on his back. Rapid gasps coming and going from him, the air almost useless.
Snape's chest heaves too.
His eyes wild as he searches for the next threat. Only starting to relax as he sees his bullies all beaten. 'They...they lost. I won?' The thought does things to Severus. His heart finally slowing down. He feels...safe, he realizes. He feels strong. He doesn't feel pathetic and scared. In fact, he's gitty about it. The heightened feeling of grief and fear twisting into an unlikely normal kind of relief.
And for a moment, all he can do is look at them. His wand limp at his side. His dark and searching eyes for once finding the Marauders to look like the dumb kids they are.
Then Lupin is disarming him.
His wand disappearing from his side. He watches it go in alarm. The calm leaving his as of it was never there.
Their eyes lock.
Snape feels betrayed. An odd thing really. Lupin doesn't have any kind of relationship with him. But the feeling of betrayal is hot under his skin.
And suddenly his victory is in Lupin's palm. His wand clamped tightly in the boney hand.
"Snape. That's quite enough." He keeps his voice level, but unease is clear in it. The tone like that of someone intentionally threatening an animal that they are scared off. The usually gentle eyes treat him the same. "Look, we- this has gone too far. We'll go. Sirius-"
Lupin walkes around Snape with a curved path. He kneels beside Black. His words hushed as he assesses his friend. His back to Snape.
Normally Snape would have been thankful for this outcome. For Lupin allowing him to go, tending to his own village idiots. Snape feels no pain, has nothing really to be humiliated about. He should still feel victorious.
But instead nervous energy itches at him.
'We'll go.'
We'll go
They are going to go.
They'll leave him alone.
"No...no, not yet." Snape feels himself grit out. "I'm not done with you yet." It's caught between something of a threat and a plea.
"Moony? I think Snivellus is having some kind of fit." He hears Potter say, still plopped on his sorry arse, holding his head in his hands. They all still eye him like they always do. Looking at him with disgust.
"Remus!!" Pettigrew is screeching in the next moment as Snape bodily slams Lupin into the forest floor just feet away from Black. He may be scrawny, malnourished, weak, pathetic, and disgusting; but he finds the strength in his anger. Though not by much, Lupin is a touch bigger and better kept. And still Snape finds himself tussling on top of the other gangly teen.
They scramble on the ground, an odd couple. Lupin tall and longer limbed. Snape long limbed and stunted. Like 'tall boys' in kid's flims Lupin watched. Seeming so big, yet so small.
Lupin trying his damndest to get Snape either off or under himself. The boy's mind making note that at no point has Snape tried to get his wand back. The Slytherin's hands are instead twisted deep into the threads of Lupin's robes, holding him down. Holding onto him.
"Don't go yet." Snape growls out. "You-you can't."
Lupin finds himself not fighting it as hard as he probably should. His own hands wrapping around Snape's wrists, pressing the other boy's wand against the thin bone there. Through drapes of black hair, he can see Snape's face. It's way closer than he'd ever wished to see it.
From here he can see the broken look he's all too familiar with. Severus' fearful eyes. The tensed jaw. The trembling of his whole body. These aren't new. Remus is used to seeing Severus like this. Broken. But usually he's been spared by the distance. The blood always looking less-than when farther away.
Remus feels the rabbiting beat of Severus' heart. Can feel the telling way Severus breathes into the oncoming panic attack. He imagines what tears in those eyes would look like so close. They'd scare him, but maybe not as much as the confused haze he gets instead.
Severus' fingers hold onto him tighter. They keep struggling, but Remus can tell neither of them are trying very hard. He wants Severus away. He can't stand this.
The shame he feels in this moment may kill him.
"Get off of him." Black growls from just off to the side.
Ah, so Lupin had been able to 'revive' him.
Snape knows the punch is coming from experience. Despite Black having only punched him three times before.
They all know of Black's love for 'muggle-style' fighting. Having bragged about his own tussles he claims to have had both in and out of school. The four of them have also seen it before. The few punches he's given Snape throughout the years, and the full-blown fights he likes to save for the bigger kids that can actually take it. He's always said Snape was 'too fragile' for that. 'Like a little bird'. He'd grinned the words into Snape's ear once. How Black just 'can't help but like [his] greasy, little head too much for that nasty business.'
It had always been a threat. At least that's how Snape saw it. A not-so-subtle and fake-kind way to tell Snape he could always beat the shit out of him, if he really wanted. Snape had always shrugged it off. Kept himself from biting back that he could take it. He's had way worse than anything Sirius-, Black, could throw at him.
Sometimes he thought about the words and threats so much he may as well have been longing for it. Like a well trained dog looking for it's next beating. Patient, silent, eyes expectant everytime a hand begins to raise. Until finally its for real.
And he's allowed to bite back.
Sirius knocks Severus to the ground like an expert. Allowing Remus to drag himself away in a jerking and hurried motion. His limbs awkward as he goes. He makes a less graceful sight than Severus does. His movements slow as he raises a hand to the side of his head. It's now, as he realizes groggily, his turn to lay on his back in the dirt.
Sirius stands above him. His own body swaying from Severus' magical attacks. There is passion in his eyes. It bleeds into Severus the longer he looks Sirius in them. The look sends two opposing questions ricocheting out from between them.
Are you done, or do I finally get to do this?
And
Is that it, or will you really let me have it?
The meeting of eyes, the ricocheting questions, the sparks it all sends out. The two of them have never been more in rhythm.
Briefly, Severus wonders if this is what Sirius makes Potter feel like. When they chase and attack him side by side. A steady presence. A support beam. A light to a fuse.
Sirius is straddling him in an instant. He's snarling like the dog he knows he is. Grabbing at hair and slamming a head into the ground. Pulling at ill-mantained, ratty clothes. Punching at a face that's too proud to put arms up and protect it. And Severus is doing so well. He's snarling like a dog too. Fangs bared and claws digging at any part of Sirius' body they can reach. He's kicking, digging heels in the ground. He punches up, far less effective, but Sirius appreciates the effort. Severus makes his ears ring with each strike he's able to manage.
Sirius can't help but pause. Looking down at Severus with a pleased smirk. With no idea what's gotten into the other boy, but loving it. He almost wants to say something. If the others weren't watching, maybe he would. Something to let Severus know that Sirius has always liked this side of him. Padfoot's favorite chew toy. The dark eyed teen that would always try words and confusing escape routes. Hiding in cracks of the school and in plain sight alike; unsure and scared of how he's always found. Willing to try anything to get away, be left alone.
And above all else, ready when the time to fight comes. Whether it's after two seconds of biting words or an all day chase around the castle, Severus is always eager when it comes to blows.
And that's Sirius' biggest secret. Far stranger than the fact that he likes this, everyone expects that from a Black. No, it's that Severus likes it too. If you ask Sirius, that is. Maybe not everytime, maybe not everything they do; but sometimes Severus really seems to like it. Need it, even.
Just like Sirius does.
Cause maybe James is his best friend. But really, he's a spoiled brat. He does this for fun, for Lilly. Sirius does this because he needs it. Needs it like Severus does. Because when they aren't at home, with their parents, nobody makes them hurt.
But they need to hurt and be hurt. They need the fight. Like we'll trained dogs.
"Inbred filth!" Severus spits up at him when he pauses for too long. Eyeing expectantly at Sirius' raised fist. Turning it to a scowl and angry words when he sees that look that always implies Sirius is loosing the madness. When he starts to look too deeply into Severus and search for how similar he knows that they are.
Cause the truth is, they don't want this. Not really. But they do need it. So Sirius let's Severus spit the words at him, pointedly not disgusted by the blood and well-, spit, that freckles across his face with them. He keeps punching Severus.
Sirius lands four in quick succession. They all look really good, powerful, but he varies the force. He let's Severus question which one was the worst, giving him a few softer ones that are clear wrong answers. He watches Severus think as each one lands. He watches Severus realize slowly that maybe this isn't actually what he wants. Sirius watches a different man's name sit at the tip of his tongue, the one Severus really wishes he wasn't fighting. Sirius watches and realizes a name that is not 'Severus' sits on his own tongue. The ones he really wishes he was fighting.
Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew watch too.
They don't recognize any of this. They worry both boys have finally, as Lupin feared, gone off the deep end.
"Sirius, that's enough." Lupin says, clear and level.
"That's enough, Sirius." Stern and with a meaningful emphasis.
"Padfoot! Enough!" Flush with concern.
Then all three are verbally trying to pull Sirius off. Sirius doesn't feel ready to go just yet.
As he watches the fight drain out of Severus with one final shove against the dirt, Sirius reaches between his splayed open robes. He feels the letter at Severus' chest, hidden under his Slytherin vest. Severus grabs at Sirius once he notices. Thin and nail-bitten fingers harshly try to pull his hands away. Sirius slaps them away with a growled threat that he knows allows Severus to feel like he tried hard enough.
He's done his part, he tried to fight the Marauders and lost. Like is always practiced. How it should be. How they all understand it should be.
The Marauders defeating a Death Eater wannabe.
The letter comes out easy after that. Still warm from where it sat against Snape's slimy heart. Black feels accomplished pulling it free.
"Now, let's see what all the fuss was about."
Black begins by flipping the letter this way and back, no addresses or details. Nondescript. Snape watches Black fiddle with it. A trail of blood oozing from his nose. He'd charmed it to remain sealed. Unopenable.
Black rips it open, fingering the thick envelope and then tearing it at the seams. He cocks his head and the delicate paper folded inside. Its thin, delicate. With an emblem water marked onto it. Black thinks it looks familiar, but in the heat of the moment can't place it. He pulls the actual letter out regardless.
"Please don't!" Severus pleads unexpectedly. All passion gone from his eyes. He drops to a whisper, but they all hear it in the now deadly-silent forest. "It's nothing, I swear. I just needed...I just..." Even more odd behavior, Sirius thinks.
He unfolds it anyways.
Black begins reading it aloud.
"Dear Mister Severus Snape-
It is with deep sympathy and regret that we must inform you of the-... passing of one Eileen Snape...who died early...early on..." The letter continues. Black reads it silently. It's a hospital. The letter has no magic feel to it at all, despite being from Saint Mungos.
The general idea is that Snape's parents had signed to refuse magical aid from emergency services, no matter the risks. Snape's mom has been sick for awhile, not medically. Mentally, more than anything. She's been weak and pushing away any and all magic. She had warded herself and her home, preventing interference or aid of any kind. When the wards could no longer uphold what magical law could, it was too late for her. For whatever reason, she had more or less neglected her magic, her body, her mind, and then refused the care that would have saved her.
Black holds out the letter when footsteps come near. From behind.
Potter takes it. Reads it.
Pettigrew reads it next.
Lupin pointedly doesn't.
He doesn't say it, but a small and bitter part of Severus wants to. That book they had burned. It had been his mother's. It was created by and for the Prince family. His mother began her skills with wards with it. He'd been studying it to find a way to break them. He knew she needed help. He knew neither she or Tobias would let that happen if it meant magic. Somewhere along the road, her nervousness around magic became a phobia. He had poured so much time into those pages, his mother's annotations. But she had gotten too good in her years before his father. Severus could never figure it out. Just what made her wards Hers. He had given up, hit dead end after dead end. He only kept looking because he knew he couldn't stop.
Cover to cover.
Cover to cover.
Then it was just a pile of ash. He wanted to murder Potter. Wanted to thank him. Couldn't do either. And was choked by the idea of 'What if I had needed it? What if I was just moments from the answer and Potter still burnt it?" But that doesn't matter, so he shakes the thought away. His mother is dead regardless. And now they know all about it.
Snape has been crying openly for the last few moments. The Marauders not yet noticing, too stunned. His chest slowly beginning to jerk painfully. Loud, hurt breaths being forced in and out of him without control. He fights a sob that turns to stone in his throat.
Fuck
Fuck
His....his mum is dead.
She's dead.
That happened. That's what the letter says.
Severus is suddenly sobbing harder than he thinks he ever has. He's humiliated, he doesn't care, and he can't stop.
He doesn't notice Black getting off of him. Doesn't notice how Sirius swipes the blood trailing down his face away from his mouth. The touch directing it down his cheek and not on his tongue.
He doesn't notice Lupin placing his wand back inside his robes. He doesn't notice the quietly muttered spells that makes his head feel okay again. The punches fading into memory as he's mended by the few spells Remus knows how to use on himself.
Potter and Pettigrew simply walk away. They stand at a distance, eyes downcast. Waiting.
Black stands near Lupin, waiting for him to finish. He passes back the letter once Lupin is done. Then nimble hands are carefully placing the letter back between Snape's vest and dress shirt, above his heart.
Almost like it never happened. Almost. There'll be bruises.
They retreat as well, one of them stepping on a twig as they go.
The snap makes Severus jump.
"Please don't go!" It comes out a mix of a whine and a threat, made useless by the sobs that interrupt it. "Please." Severus hides his face behind his hands. His voice falling to a whisper between tears. "You can hit me. Just please don't leave me alone with this."
The footsteps keep departing. Severus doesn't ask again. The shame forces him to keep crying. He hates himself for it.
As the fearless Gryffindors retreat, they all eye Snape nervously. Confusion is the most prominent emotion emanating off of them.
"Come on." James says to the others with a head nodded towards the castle.
They move sluggishly.
James casts a look back. Snape stays put. He stays put and just cries.
He remembers, for some strange reason, a conversation between himself and Sirius. It was about how they both were surprised Snape never cried. Even during first year. He was unbreakable. Sirius wanted to see it, James thinks, but Sirius never mentioned it. Glancing at him now, James doesn't think it is what he had hoped it would be.
James remembers the first time he broke a toy. Then every subsequent time after. Always his favorites. The ones he used the most. The special ones that spun or made sound or lit up. The ones that could entertain him for hours in his even younger youth. He used to break them often. His parents always fixed them. Eventually he learned to use the special ones less, keep them well taken care of. Be gentle with them. Break the ones that didn't matter, like gangs of Slytherins looking for a real fight. Only taking the special one off the shelf for big days. Like public humiliations, or werewolf attacks, or any number or things James loved to do to Snape.
Maybe that's why, despite being always at Snape's heels, they never went too far. Because none of it was too far. Somehow Snape had been tough enough, always tough enough. He took it and spit it back, never crying or even slipping up on his grades. He was alway smart and strong, and could take it.
But that was wrong. James could see now. Snape had already been broken before James or Sirius ever got their hands on him. Then they made it all worse.
James suddenly feels very ashamed. And in the odd way he knows his brain works, he's only able to feel ashamed for imagining Snape as something not dissimilar from a toy.
The Marauders can't hear the crying for much longer. They've moved too far away.
"We shouldn't leave him alone out there." Remus eventually says, hushed. "It's the Forbidden Forest after all."
"You wanna go back for him?" Sirius asks, he has yet to look up.
Remus doesn't respond, he doesn't go back.
They make it back to the castle in a guilty and confused daze. Only three of them hear a repeat of begging. Someone pleading to not be left alone, ignored. Echoing in their heads.
They pretend it'll be fine. Snape isn't alone. Except he is, for certain now.
But the Marauders don't know that.
Except they do... for certain now.