Deepest Bonds

Deepest Bonds

*

Hurt and Comfort

*

Sirius didn't know how long time he spent kneeling on the floor, crying and sobbing and crying again. All he knew was that he only wanted to curl up and die. Nothing seemed to have a purpose anymore, nothing. Harry obviously didn't need him anymore, the War had ended without his help, and now Remus...

Remus. Nice, kind Remus, who never said a bad word to anyone. Who never had got angry, never had held grudges, never had been unable to forgive. He'd forgiven Sirius for not trusting him with the Potters' secret, and more - he hadn't even thought there was something to forgive. Instead, he'd apologized for not believing Sirius. Apologized! After everything Sirius had done to him, he still apologized!

At last, Sirius got the tears somehow in control. He knew he would cry that night, and many, many nights after that, cry for the man who had never had a real chance to live before his life was already taken from him, cry for the friendship that he knew to be deeper than any other friendship he'd ever again accomplish. But for now, he could stop crying. For a moment. Maybe.

Then, his thoughts snapped back to Snape. The Slytherin had kneeled down next to him, seemingly trying to comfort him the best he could by lightly stroking his back. However, the man's eyes were not directed at him; Snape stared right in front of him like he was seeing something that nobody else could.

What Sirius didn't know that Snape, too, was going through his memories about Remus. And that those memories were just as bittersweet and painful as those Sirius had of his werewolf friend.

*

After yet another Order meeting -- this time in Hogwarts, as the war was in full rage, and they didn't need to hide in the Grimmauld Place -- Severus left the meeting exhausted. There had been far too many people in the small room, and while the others had had difficulties with breathing towards the end of his meeting, he had had to fight for every breath with the collar pressing his throat. To make it even worse, his head was pounding with a headache, like it had been ever since his Master had been taken to Azkaban. And he knew it was because of that, because his Master was facing the Dementors, and was still sane enough to push all pain he only could to Severus through their bond.

Therefore, Severus didn't at first register the lonely figure that started to follow him towards his office. He didn't remember promising Lupin to give him his Wolfsbane after the meeting. All he could think of was getting to his rooms, and then getting rid of the suffocating black robe he wore to hide the marks of his slavery.

And thus, he didn't even hesitate taking off the thick outer robe, not before he heard the soft steps coming to the door, and the shocked gasp as his companion saw the silver collar and the tattoos, which were both left bare by the short-sleeved shirt Severus wore underneath the robe. Realizing that Lupin had come to the room, Severus tried to hastily cover himself with his robe. It was, however, too late. The werewolf had already seen the signs of his slavery.

Lupin stared in horror at the collar on his neck, then at the tattoos on his wrists, and then again at the collar. "Severus --" he started to say, but never finished what he was going to say. Instead, he just shook his head, lowering his eyes to the ground. "Unbelievable," he whispered. "I mean, you, Severus? Of all the people around, you are a slave?"

"It wasn't my choice," he replied curtly. Secretly he hoped that Lupin would just leave and spread the word to all his friends like he obviously intended to.

"Of course not," Lupin hurried to answer. "I'm sorry for ever implying that. I just mean, you're always so well-controlled and self-confidant. That doesn't fit the usual picture people have about slaves."

"You should never trust stereotypes," snorted Severus. "Now, go away and have a good laugh with your friends or whomever you are going to inform about this. Just leave me in peace."

"I won't," said the werewolf quietly. As Severus raised a questioning eyebrow, he elaborated, "I won't go away, and I won't tell anyone. I don't have any right to tell anybody about your situation."

"Well, I told everybody about your Lycanthropy," Severus pointed out. "I don't see any reasons why you wouldn't want to spoil my life. After all, I spoiled yours."

"You didn't." At Severus's disbelieving snort, Lupin said more heatedly, "No, seriously, you didn't! I wasn't fired, you know. Sure, the parents would have got angry, but I wouldn't have remained there anyway. That night I saw that I was a danger, that I couldn't be trusted enough to have me around children. Even if a single soul hadn't known about my condition, I would have resigned."

"Just keep telling that to yourself," Severus said a bit snappishly. "Maybe one day, you might believe it. Oh, no, wait. Excuse me, of course you believe it. You are, after all, a Gryffindor."

"So, who it is?" asked Lupin, ignoring the insult thrown to his direction. "Your Master, I mean?"

Severus drew a deep, shuddering breath. Even though he was not directly addressing his Master, saying his name aloud was still difficult. "Lucius Malfoy," he at last forced himself to say, knowing that Lupin would never leave him in peace if he didn't tell him.

"Oh," said Lupin quietly. Then he again said, "Oh... Poor you, then."

Severus snorted disbelievingly. He had been called many things, but he was certain nobody had called him that before, not even Albus with his damned twinkling eyes.

But, somehow, coming from Lupin, it didn't feel that bad.

*

Severus shot a curse at the last retreating Death Eater. As Lucius was no more there to command him, he didn't have to pose as a Death Eater. True, he had been useful as a spy, and had thus continued in his position for as long as possible, but now his cower was blown, and he could openly fight for the Light Side.

He glanced around himself, seeing that the other members of Order around -- Tonks, Granger, Kingsley, Moody, Dumbledore himself, and Severus's only real friend, Remus -- had also taken down their own fair share of Death Eaters. None seemed to be alive or at least functioning on their side of the battlefield.

Then, however, he heard Remus shouting, "Watch out, Severus!" At the next second, a curse hit his back. Hard. However, thanks to Remus, he had enough time to avoid the full force of it, and the curse only ripped his robes.

'Only. What a word.' That was what Severus thought as he was stared at by everyone around, except for Remus, who concentrated on getting rid of the Death Eater who'd sent the curse. Or, more specifically, they didn't stare at him -- rather, they stared at the collar on his neck, and the tattoos on his wrists. The others were all Pureblood, and Granger girl had done enough extra research to know exactly what those signs meant.

Dumbledore was there in an instant, covering Severus with his own cloak. It was dirty after the hours spent on the battlefield, but at least it was a shelter from the cold autumn wind, offering some warmth to Severus's shivering upper body that had been bared as the curse tore his robes to shreds -- he nowadays wore only trousers under his robes, as an extra shirt would have slowed his movements. The cloak was also a shelter from the inquiring gazes of the other members of the Order, as he kept sure to cover both his wrists and collar under the folds of the cloak.

Severus noticed Tonks and the Granger girl whispering furiously to each other, their wide eyes locked at the Slytherin. He tried to send a glare to their direction, but couldn't collect the strength to do so. Instead, he just lowered his eyes and wrapped the cloak more tightly around himself, willing everybody else to just cease existing. Or maybe himself. He just couldn't say for sure.

Suddenly, somebody laid a hand on his shoulder. As Severus glanced up, ready to snap at whomever had dared to intrude his peace, he met Remus's amber eyes almost level to his own, full of understanding and compassion. Letting out a heavy sigh, Severus closed his eyes, trying to force everything out of his mind. He was still aware of Remus's hand on his shoulder, however, as well as the werewolf's soothing presence as the other wizard had chosen to sit on the ground right behind him.

The almost-silence, only broken by the two witches' whispered discussion, continued for still some time more. Then, however, somebody else came to the place. It was Mad-Eye Moody.

"Snape," the old Auror started. Severus didn't bother opening his eyes, however, as he knew that the comment wasn't directed at him. And truly, Moody continued to the direction of Dumbledore, "Albus, is he truly --"

"Quiet!" snapped Albus with an anger in his voice Severus had rarely heard from him before. "Listen to me, you all. Nothing you have seen today will ever pass your lips, and most definitely you won't question Severus about it. Anybody saying a word about it aloud, to one of us or otherwise, will be faced with my personal wrath. Is that clear?" As Severus opened his eyes halfly, he saw that everybody nodded, fearful expressions on their faces. Only Tonks and Granger continued whispering, but even they stopped quickly as the Headmaster said again, "Hermione, Tonks, not a word. Whispered or otherwise."

So, everybody fell silent. They kept watching Severus, however, and the Slytherin shrank down under the gazes, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He had no doubt that some of them would ignore Albus's words, telling someone they thought to be trustable, and rumours would spread. And even if they didn't, it was bad enough that they knew. He didn't mind being hated, that he was used to. But he didn't want to be despised, or, even worse, pitied. No, he most definitely didn't need their pity.

Nobody tried to approach him, however, even after Albus left as he got an urgent call from another side of the battlefield. Severus was sure that this was much thanks to Remus, who stayed by his side, a comforting hand on his shoulder, and glaring threateningly at anyone who took as much as a step to his direction.

And for that simple display of friendship, Severus was more thankful to Remus than for anything else.

*

Severus's eyes never left Remus's as he softly grasped the werewolf's right arm. Still staring right into the eyes, one amber and one milky white, he slowly brought the arm up to his lips, placing light butterfly kisses on the fresh skin on the end of the stump of the wrist. Remus shivered and lowered his eyes, trying to avoid his gaze, but Severus would not have that. Raising one hand to hold Remus's chin, he forced the werewolf to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, Remus," he commanded softly. As the other wizard at last did so, he continued, "You're not ugly, not at all. You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. You must not be ashamed of yourself."

"But I'm maimed, Severus," said Remus hoarsely. "I'm maimed and damaged. How could anyone possibly like me?"

"I do," replied the Slytherin softly. "I don't only like you -- I love you. We're both abandoned by the rest of our society, Remus... We can only have each other."

Then, feeling suddenly determined, he reached up and placed a tender kiss on Remus's lips. The werewolf was at first too shocked to do anything, but then, very slowly, he started to respond to the kiss.

From that, the things developed further. Far further, like Severus idly thought while he lay on the bed, wholly sated, playing with Remus's gold and silver tresses that were spread all over his chest, the werewolf's arms wrapped around him, the fingers of his left hand half-consciously stroking his back.

For a moment, they both felt warm, safe, and loved. Unfortunately, this feeling did not last long -- they had a war to fight.

And that war didn't seem to have an end in sight.

*

It had lasted two months. Two bittersweet, too short months in the middle of the raging war. That was all they had ever had, that was all they would have, as Remus was now gone and would be no more. Two months had been all Severus would ever know about loving Remus, all he would ever know about love in itself, he was sure. Nobody wanted anything to do with a slave. And even if he could catch somebody's interest, which would never happen anyway, he could never have anything that would surely last, never a true bond to his lover -- as he had no legal standing, he could not get married to anyone.

Severus realized now that his Master was no more sobbing over the memory of his lost friend. Instead, the Gryffindor was sitting in front of him, watching him with half curious, half concerned eyes.

"Snape?" asked Black then hesitantly.

"M-master?" asked Severus back, trying to shake the rest of memories away from his mind. It was just too painful to remember. Too painful to know what he had had, and what he had lost.

"What were you thinking about?" The deep grey eyes seemed to be boring through his head, trying to see all secrets there. Even if the bond hadn't prevented him from it, Severus knew he couldn't have lied to his Master anyway.

"I was thinking about Remus," he said softly, unable to prevent all sadness and longing showing through his voice. "About Remus, and... whatever it was I had with him." Friendship. Relationship. Love. Words flew through his mind, he knew they meant something, but he couldn't tell what they meant. It had been so long, so long time alone, and he was in so much pain and so deep in his quiet sorrow...

His Master observed him for a moment. Then he asked softly, "You loved him, didn't you?" Taking Severus's silence as a sign of admission, the Gryffindor questioned him further, "Did you love him as a friend, or as something more? And did he love you?"

"I loved him as a friend, and as much more," said Severus hoarsely. "And he loved me back... at least he told he did. I don't know whether he was telling the truth."

"He was," said his Master, sounding self-confident. "Remus would never lie about something about that." Then, after another second of quietly watching him, the other wizard said, "You had the best there was, Snape, the best anybody could ever have. Just so you know that."

"I know that already, Master," replied Severus, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "I know that, and I thank Merlin every day for every second I was granted his love." He knew that he sounded much out of character, but then again, he was in a real turmoil of feelings. And he couldn't lie to his Master, it was like words were pried from his mouth forcefully, even though that force wasn't stronger than a feather's touch on his cheek.

For some time, they both were silent. Then Severus realized that Black had started to slowly pet his back in a similar manner as he had done to soothe the Gryffindor, like he was required by the bond.

Then tears broke free, and Severus curled up on a ball, crying like a lost child, crying like he had never before. And he hadn't, oh, he hadn't -- ever since he was just an infant, he'd been punished every time he cried. He'd learnt not to cry, not to show his emotions to anyone.

And now his new Master was encouraging him to cry. Severus didn't even stop to think about the absurdity of that, he was in too much pain and sorrow for his long-lost lover to do.