Love Potion HP

Chapter Nine: Dragon's Heart

"Sirius!" Severus called, placing his cauldron full of liquefied peppermint on an empty end table. "Are you home?" Where else would he be?

Slowly, a black dog slinked into the room.

"I wish you wouldn't be an animal in the house. You'll shed on things."

The dog made no acknowledgement but to morph. Sirius gave him a wary smile and said softly, "Hello, Severus? Good day at school?"

"One of the better ones," he replied, then paused. He had something to say which he dearly did not want to speak. He still felt that he was right; Potter's behavior in class emphasized the point. Yet, he doubted Sirius would budge on the issue and the man's words from months ago echoed in his head:

"I can't be the one to make all the compromises..."

No, Severus supposed Sirius could not and it was unfair of him to expect it.

I'm doing this only for your sake, Sirius, he thought grudgingly, not because I mean it. I want some hope of a pleasant Christmas.

He sighed. "I'm sorry."

Sirius blinked. "For... what?"

"For getting mad at you. It's only natural you would want to tell your godson about... us."

Sirius's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Wow."

"What?"

"I didn't expect you to apologize."

Severus shrugged and for a moment looked sheepish. "It's a nasty habit I've picked up from you."

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, sure."

"Damn it, I'm not exactly good with this. Do you... forgive... me?"

"Of course."

Severus scowled. "Oh, I hate that about you." He gestured towards his cauldron. "Peppermint?"

* * *

Dumbledore sent a pine tree festooned half with silver and green and half with gold and red baubles, Christmas- and incidentally also Slytherin and Gryffindor- colors. Severus spent a few hours casting the proper enchantments and on Christmas morn, a pile of presents apparated beneath the tree. Most were small trinkets the teachers sent each other; they were, of course, for Severus. Dumbledore gave them a set of twin glass goblets, each stuffed with a thick woolen sock.

"I don't get it..."

"Maybe it's a metaphor."

"Shut up."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sent Sirius a few housewarming presents, including the cookbook One Minute Feasts- It's Magic. Severus, who did not at all trust him with household chores, quickly confiscated it. Harry also gave him a camera and bottle of developing fluid for moving photos. The trio showed a good deal of thoughtfulness by sending Severus a set of parchment and quills; the Potions Master was quite surprised.

At last, after all other presents were unwrapped, Sirius handed Severus a large, bulky package and confessed, "I didn't really know what to get you."

Severus flashed him a quirky smile. "Don't worry. Nobody ever does," he assured him and opened it.

Under the wrapping paper was a shiny gold cauldron filled with potion ingredients. Severus examined the bottles and commented, "These are rare. I haven't seen some of these in Hogsmeade or Diagon in awhile. Where did you get them?"

"Remus is good friends with his local apothecary," he explained.

Severus nodded. "That's not surprising," he replied. The remark was straight-forward and not at all snide. "Thank you, Sirius."

He handed Sirius a small box. Sirius untied the ribbon and found inside a single ticket for tomorrow's train from Hogsmeade to platform nine and three quarters and back again.

"Pets are free," Severus explained. "Sorry. It was the only way I could think of to smuggle you on the train other than Polyjuice- and given where we're going, I didn't think that was a good idea."

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Diagon Alley."

"But won't everything be closed tomorrow?"

"I asked Dumbledore to arrange an appointment for us."

"An appointment for what?"

"You'll see," Severus replied and refused to say anything further.

* * *

While the Leaky Cauldron was bustling with wizards and witches on vacation, Diagon Alley was nearly abandoned. On all fours, Sirius's view of the shop windows was very limited, which was disappointing. It had been a long time since he had visited Diagon Alley and likely would be so before he came again.

Severus stopped at one of the stores and knocked at its door. The blinds were pulled down over the windows and although Sirius craned his neck, he could not read the sign. The door clicked open and they entered. The thousands of narrow boxes piled to the ceiling on all sides told him instantly where he was.

"Good day, gentlemen," a small voice came from nowhere.

Severus gave a start and Sirius yipped.

Mr. Ollivander stood beside them, a knowing expression upon his face. "Severus Snape, dogwood and dragon heartstring, twelve inches. I was apprehensive about the fate of that wand," said Ollivander.

Severus frowned.

Ollivander's silver eyes peered keenly at the dog beside him. "Sirius Black, ebony and phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches. I presume it was broken when you went to Azkaban?"

Sirius assumed his human form. "Yes," he answered.

Ollivander squinted and sized up Sirius. "A difficult case you've brought me, Professor Snape," he said. "It's the wand that chooses the wizard, but he has already been chosen. Not many get a second chance. Hold out your wand arm."

Sirius did so. Ollivander took out his strange tape measure and began taking notes. He turned towards the shelves and selected several boxes.

Sirius glanced at Severus. "A wand?" he mouthed.

Severus whispered, "Well, you need a wand."

Ollivander returned and handed one to Sirius. "Oak and unicorn hair, ten inches."

Sirius knew what to expect and was not surprised when Ollivander snatched it from him after five seconds.

"Maple and dragon heartstring, nine inches."

Sirius waved. Nothing.

"Willow and phoenix feather. Eight and a half inches."

Nothing.

"Yew and phoenix feather. Another one?" Ollivander mused aloud. "That would be ironic."

Sirius had no idea what he meant, but supposed it did not matter since it failed to work anyway. He felt almost like a first-year, waving wand after wand after wand as the stack of rejected grew alarmingly high.

"If there's a will, there's a wand, and I will find it," Ollivander said. "Cedar and dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches. Try this."

Sirius did- and a cascade of green and blue sparks showered from its end.

"Very interesting," he remarked. "It's not often I sell a person a wand brother to someone close to them, although it happened four years ago. Harry Potter, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches."

Sirius's stomach bound itself in a knot. "Who?" he asked hoarsely.

If his wand was the brother to Peter Pettigrew's...

"Dogwood and dragon heartstring, twelve inches," Ollivander replied simply. "Severus Snape."

* * *

Sirius slept on the train, his head resting in Severus's lap. Severus gently scratched the scruff of his neck, then, taking care not to rouse the dog, opened his recently purchased parcel.

The wand was long, slender, and unassuming. He touched the tip and felt a slight sting common to a point of concentrated magic. He removed his own wand and, warily, touched its end to the other. A tingling sensation passed through his hand.

He and Sirius had brother wands. What did it mean?

* * *

"Lumos! Nox! Accio! Accio!"

Christmas ornaments whizzed through the room.

"Feeling like more of a wizard now that you have a wand?" Severus asked dryly.

Sirius grinned. "Accio Severus!"

Severus made a note of exclamation as his body suddenly levitated from his armchair and floated into Sirius's arms.

"Yes, yes, very cute. Now put me down."

Sirius tweaked his nose, causing Severus to twitch, then lowered him, allowing him to step onto the floor.

"We have brother wands..." he whispered, amazed.

Severus grimaced. "It's not a good thing."

"Why?"

"If we get into a fight, we'll trigger Priori Incantatem and cause a mess."

"Why would we fight?" Sirius asked.

"I still hate you," Severus said.

"Yeah, sure," he replied and kissed him.

"No, I'm serious," Severus insisted, with the slightest of smirks. "In fact, you've given me just the right ingredients for a nasty poison."

Sirius bit his nose.

"Stop that!" Severus yelled. He threw himself at Sirius and they toppled backwards, conveniently onto the sofa.