Love Potion HP

Chapter Eleven: Letters From Sirius

"Why isn't Snape at breakfast?" Hermione asked, glancing at the teachers' dining table.

"Why should he be?" Ron answered. "He's got his own cabin."

"Yes, but Sirius left six days ago. Don't you think he'd go back to his room inside the castle?"

He shrugged. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's lonely?"

"Lonely? Snape's not exactly a people person, Hermione."

"Why does it matter?" Harry asked irritably.

Hermione and Ron said nothing, but gave each other a significant glance. Harry did not understand how they could accept the situation with Sirius and Snape so casually. How could they fail to notice that something was radically wrong? Harry had mentioned very little to them of his dinner with Snape five days ago, and said nothing of the Aphrodilus, which he sensed had become a touchy subject for Hermione. He could no longer confide his suspicions to them and dearly wished it were otherwise. Snape had all but directly stated that he loved Sirius. What was he supposed to make of that? The idea was eating him up inside.

Harry's dismal thoughts were suddenly disturbed by a flurry of feathers. The owls had arrived and one of an unusual breed, which he did not recognize, swooped low and dropped two letters into his lap. He identified the handwriting on the first envelope, immediately tore it open, and then read:

Dear Harry,

I'm very, very sorry I wasn't there for dinner on the tenth. A problem arose the morning before and I had to leave immediately. I did not realize until much too late I had forgotten to tell you not to come. Did you end up eating with Severus? Did he behave? Please let me know- and please don't sugarcoat it for my sake.

As usual, I can't tell you where I am or what I'm doing. I don't know when I'll return. Please write back, using this owl. It knows where to find me.

Sorry to miss your Quidditch match.

Sirius

P.S. Please give the-

"- second letter to Severus!?" Harry groaned miserably. He glanced at the other envelope and, sure enough, Snape's name was written on it in Sirius's script. "Why couldn't he have just sent another owl?"

"Well, think about it, Harry," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "It would be much more risky to send two and Sirius probably has trouble finding owls."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "At least he had the sense to figure out that it would be a bad idea to give a letter for you to Snape."

Harry looked down at the second envelope and frowned.

"How I am supposed to give this to Snape?"

"Just hand it to him during Potions," Hermione said.

"Yes, but what if somebody sees me with it?" Harry asked. "It's addressed to 'Severus.' If I was writing a letter to Snape, I certainly wouldn't call him 'Severus.'"

"I'm surprised his mother thought it was a good idea to call him 'Severus'," Ron remarked. "That's assuming he has a mother."

Hermione ignored Ron's comment. "Do it after class. It's not that big a deal, Harry."

He sighed. Didn't they understand what any of this meant?

* * *

Snape glared suspiciously into the murky depths of Harry's cauldron.

"A surprising- and rather unexpected- display of aptitude, Mr. Potter. Let's see how well you do tomorrow when you aren't standing next to Miss Granger."

Indignation rose to Harry's cheeks. "Hermione didn't help me, Professor," he replied.

Snape looked at him sharply. "Then next class you can prove it. Surely, that's not too much of a hardship for the hero of Hogwarts."

Harry said nothing. Sirius's letter was burning a hole in his bag. He wondered what might happen if he simply dropped it into his cauldron and watched it disintegrate, but he abandoned the idea the instant he thought of how disappointed his godfather would be.

Snape returned to his desk as the bell rang. Students eagerly fled from the dungeon room, however Hermione and Ron lingered behind to wait for Harry. Apprehensively, he approached Snape's desk with the letter in hand.

Snape glanced at him with a dismissive scowl. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry placed the envelope on his desk. "This is from Sirius."

The change in Snape's face very abrupt. He appeared taken aback. "Oh," he said. "Thank you." The words sounded clumsy on his tongue. "Wait here," he ordered, then unexpectedly dashed from the room.

"Where is he going?" Ron pondered aloud.

Hermione edged towards the door. "His office, I think."

Snape returned fifteen minutes later, Sirius's letter unfolded in his hand. "Potter, are you sending an owl to Sirius?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry answered nervously.

"Could... could you..." Snape was obviously uncomfortable. "Could you wait until tomorrow? So I could give you a letter to give to Sirius?"

He did not know what to say. It was the first time Snape had ever spoken to him nicely and he sounded timid.

"Of course, Professor," he said.

"Thank you."

For a moment, he thought Snape was smiling, but it was so brief, and so out of character, that he was not sure.

* * *

Harry stared at his plate as if it did not exist. Hermione's hand flashed before his face.

"Hello?" she called in sing-song voice. "Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't believe it," he said dully. "They really are in love. And it's..."

Disgusting? Sirius was happy and Snape had been genuinely nice without drinking a personality-change potion. The first thought was comforting; the second was nothing short of a miracle.

"...very odd," he finished.

He suddenly felt hungry.

* * *

The next day, Snape did not move Harry's seat as threatened. Nor did he make any sarcastic or snide remarks. Except for the very end of class, during which he clandestinely placed an envelope labeled "Sirius" on his desk and nodded slightly, he ignored Harry entirely.

It was the same the next day and the next. Harry found it very strange but soon realized it was the closest to a sign of approval that he would ever get from Snape.

* * *

Sirius received his letters on January nineteenth. He read Harry's first, smiling at his godson's casual and chatty tone as well as his sense of irony. When he was certain he had read the note thoroughly, he opened Severus's.

Severus's letter was short and written in his usual biting tone.

Dear Sirius,

That letter was the mushiest thing I've ever read.

I miss you.

Severus