To Hope for Anything

To Hope for Anything

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Find Out Your Fears

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1 day

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The moment Sirius knocked on Severus's quarters and didn't get a reply, he knew that something was wrong. Really worried - who knew what Severus had done in his jealousness? - he said the password and hastily pushed the door open.

At first, nothing seemed to be wrong. Everything was on its usual place, at least everything he could see. His keen Animagus senses did not notice anything wrong.

"Severus?" he called out, walking further to the quarters they nowadays shared. "Where are you?"

There was no reply.

'Calm down, Sirius,' he told himself as he looked around the quarters. 'He has just fell asleep or went to visit Albus or...'

Then, he opened the door to their bedroom and found his lover. Severus was pacing the room, as if waiting for something - for him, maybe. Still, it didn't look right somehow. His walking was mechanical, like he'd been pulled around by strings.

"Severus?" Sirius asked, frowning in confusion. "Love, why are you -"

Just then, he took a more careful look at his husband's face. The black eyes were open, yes, but there was a blank stare in them, and his expression was completely empty of all emotions.

"Finite Incantantum!" Sirius cried out, pointing a wand at Severus. As the spell hit him, the Slytherin stopped dead on his track. Then, he blinked a couple of times, and started to fall.

Taking a hasty step forward, Sirius caught his husband just in time. Also, he noticed that Severus had fainted from exhaustion.

"For the love of Godric, Severus, why?" he asked quietly, carrying his lover towards the couch. Once getting there, he lowered Severus to it, carefully settling him on the comfy cushions.

'I can't believe it,' Sirius thought to himself as he watched his lover for quite some time. 'I simply can't believe it. He'd never do anything like that!' And yet he knew it was indeed true. Severus hadn't been afraid of using the Unforgivables before. Why'd he shy away from Imperius, when he'd used Cruciatus on himself?

At last, his desire to know overtook his wishes to let Severus's exhausted body get some well-needed rest. "Enervate," he whispered, pointing his wand at his husband's chest.

A moment later, Severus's eyes fluttered open, and he surveyed his surroundings with a confused look. "...Sirius?" he then asked hoarsely.

Sirius swallowed, being at first unable to say anything. "How long did you walk around the room, Severus?" he asked. In his mind he was half begging, half fearing to hear that Severus had started his insane pacing after getting the letter from him. He honestly didn't know which option would be worse.

"Mmm... What was the time as you stopped me?" the Slytherin asked, blinking as if in an attempt to clear his fuzzy mind.

"Half past nine," Sirius answered, watching attentively his husband's reaction to this.

"So... seventeen hours," Severus replied quietly.

The Animagus gaped at him, not wanting to believe what he heard. "So - you started before you got my letter that I wouldn't come home for night, right?" he asked, just to be sure. As the other wizard merely nodded silently in response, he continued, "Merlin, Severus, why? Did you want to scare me? Or was it too much to you that I went to check up on Remus after the full moon night?"

For a moment, Severus just looked at him, not saying a word. Then, with a very quiet voice, the Slytherin said, "I don't know..." The obsidian eyes turned away from him as if in shame. "I just felt like I had to do it."

"You had to do it?" echoed Sirius disbelievingly. "Why the fuck do you say so? The only thing that could force you to that is - is -" He couldn't finish his sentence, since a horrifying realization was landing into his mind. To his great disappointment, Severus's next words did nothing to wipe away his worries. Rather, they did the opposite.

"You never wholly win anorexia," the Slytherin said. "It always hits again... and again... and again. Once you've lost the game to it, you'll struggle with it for the rest of your life."

"A - anorexia?" Sirius stammered, not wanting to believe even if he'd half-guessed it. "It has come back?" Without waiting for a response, he continued, "But - how didn't I notice it, then? Shouldn't those feelings have reflected to my mind, like they did before?"

"During the time I was free from the illness, my mental barriers got stronger," Severus explained quietly. "As it then hit again, they turned against me, settling between you and my anorexic thoughts. I am now alone with the illness, my own mind stopping any help coming from you."

Sirius swallowed, unable to say anything. Instead, he listened as Severus continued, "I tried to come up with excuses, as much for myself as for you. Of course, I should have known that it was already a symptom in itself - the need to remain in control. But it's grown to be so much a part of me that I ignored it completely. It was easier to keep telling myself, and you, and everyone, that I was in complete control of myself and my doings. I couldn't admit my weakness, my loss of control, letting the damned disorder come over me. All I wanted was a normal life with you, a normal life with no Voldemort or anorexia or anything shadowing us from the past. I tried so hard, Sirius, I fought with all my power. I'd have died rather than admitted that I lost." A quiet sob escaped the pale man's lips as he added, "And now, I have lost the battle."

For a moment, Sirius couldn't do or say anything. The tiny tears dwelling in Severus's eyes alone upset him almost enough to make him want to wail and cry. His husband never cried. Never. In fact, Sirius could recall only two times when Severus had cried, both times in joy and relief. The first had been on the first meal after their minds had been bonded, the second on the day Voldemort had been defeated and he'd finally been free.

This time, however, the tears were those of sorrow, pain, and fear. And nothing, not the love between his godson and best friend, not the fact that Remus had been raped, not even Severus's returning anorexia could ever upset him as much as those tears.

"For Salazar's sake, Sirius," Severus whispered, "don't let me fall... Not again." And even though Sirius didn't want to believe it, he now saw that Severus was really crying, tears rolling down the pale, far too thin cheeks.

Without saying a word, he pulled his husband to a tight hug, thus replying the desperate demand better than he could have with any words known to the humankind.