Two Lions And A Snape

Harry re-read the Headmaster’s fourth letter for what felt like the thousandth time. The wording hadn't changed even the slightest bit and there was no way he had misinterpreted what the old wizard was saying.

He knew of the plan, of course. The plan was (although admittedly insane) very simple. Snape, Sirius and Remus. Together. In a Cottage. To recuperate. What was shocking was that Snape (‘Professor Snape, Harry!’) had agreed.

He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to know how Dumbledore had managed that. However, if he had learned something these past few years it was that Dumbledore knew people. The Headmaster wasn’t all-knowing (as Harry had sometimes thought during his first years at Hogwarts) and he most certainly wasn’t always right. But he knew people.

Repeating that to himself as a mantra, Harry tried to come up with a plan to convince Sirius and Remus that they really wanted to spend the next few months with Professor Snape.

Needless to say, defeating Voldemort was beginning to feel like a piece of cake.

***

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Good,” Remus snapped and gave Harry’s godfather an uncharacteristically hard glare. “Because I’m not talking to you either.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

The door slammed behind Sirius as the man marched out of the living-room. His angry stomps could be heard for a few seconds before another door (presumably to the library) slammed shut with a loud bang.

“That went well,” the werewolf said with an apologetic smile as he slumped down in the chair next to Harry’s. “I’m sorry, Harry. I knew you came here to see him.”

“I came here to see you too! I’ve missed both of you!”

“We’ve missed you too,” Remus promised. “Would you like to have something to drink?”

Harry glanced at his former Professor. The man looked tired, although not quite as exhausted as he had a few days ago. But still tired enough to be gauging the distance to the bar with weary eyes, almost as if he wasn’t sure that he’d make it there. Quickly calculating the days left until the next full moon, Harry sighed. Almost two weeks left so the tiredness couldn’t possibly be werewolf-related.

Harry sighed again. Dumbledore was right. As much as he’d miss his little family, the two men really needed time off to rebuild their strength. Better that than for them to need to rebuild their friendship in a few months.

“Nah... I only like butterbeer. Drinking isn’t really my vice.” He smiled at the older man who managed a small grin in return. “How are you doing?”

“Better than Sirius. You heard him: ‘I’m not talking to you.’ Imagine that!” Remus snorted. “What that man really needs is a nap.”

“You weren’t much better,” Harry pointed out carefully. “Maybe you both need some sleep?”

The werewolf looked a bit sheepish for a moment before chuckling quietly.

“I suppose you’re right. But,” Remus said, and his face became serious again, “don’t worry about us, all right? We’re old enough to take care of ourselves. All you should worry about is how to get on with your life now that you’re free of the prophecy.”

“Oh, I have plans,” Harry said, and he could feel himself grinning like a fool at the thoughts. He couldn’t help it though; it felt so good to be free. No more Voldemort. There was, of course, the ‘hero’ thing to deal with, but he was sure that would pass with time. And if Remus and Sirius would just get better, he saw no reason why he wouldn’t end up the 'Boy Who Lived Happily Ever After'. “They’re sorta secret for now, though.”

“Do they include girls and Quidditch?”

“That would be telling,” Harry told him, and smiled again. “What about you and Sirius? Do you have plans?”

“We try to concentrate on not killing each other.” Remus sighed a little and looked down on his hands, looking heart-breakingly sad. “I’m thinking that maybe it would be better if I moved out from here. I have some money saved and I’m thinking about maybe going south....”

“To get away from Sirius?”

The question was out before Harry had time to consider whether or not it was an appropriate thing to ask. Even if both Sirius and Remus treated him more like a friend than anything else, the fact remained that the two other men were adults while he was still just a minor. But the werewolf had shocked him; what if he was too late?

“No... not really. Just get away from people in general. I’m afraid I’ve always been a bit of a loner...” Remus must have sensed Harry’s emotions and he quickly added, “I’d still be in touch with you. James was like a brother to me, Harry... that makes you family too.”

“Part of the pack?” Harry suggested, teasingly gently.

“Yes. Absolutely. I don’t have much of a pack anymore, though. Just you and Sirius.”

Neither of them mentioned that not too long ago, while Sirius had been trapped in the Veil, the pack had consisted of only him and Harry. It wasn’t something that either of them wanted to remember.

“I have a proposition," Harry said hurriedly, afraid that he'd never get the words out otherwise. "For you and Sirius.”

“A proposition?” Remus looked amused. “That sounds... exciting. But maybe it can wait for a few hours until Sirius has had a chance to cool down?”

“Well, actually I’d like to talk to you about it first.”

“All right. Just let me pour a drink first? Sure you don’t want something?”

As Harry shook his head the werewolf stood up and slowly went over to the small bar. He was dressed in a shabby old coat but the shirt was new and for once the trousers weren’t quite worn through. The grey-brown hair didn’t seem to have been in contact with a comb for a long time though, and he’d noticed earlier that the nails were bitten down to almost non-existence.

Harry sighed, hoping that Remus and Sirius would go along with Dumbledore’s plans. It became more and more apparent that they really needed some time to find themselves again. Picking at his sleeve he just wished that the old wizard could have sent Snape somewhere else. If it weren’t for his old Potions Professor there would be no need for anyone to convince his father’s friends to go to Dumbledore’s cottage.

But if Dumbledore thought it was for the best then he was probably right. After all, the old wizard usually was. Not always though, a voice in the back of his head whispered. Harry ignored it, not at all very eager to think about what had happened during his fifth year.

“So...” Remus smiled at him over his drink. “Tell me about your proposition?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not really my proposition. It’s Dumbledore’s. But he asked me to talk to you because he’d be busy... talking to someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Uhm... yes...”

Avoiding the man’s eyes, Harry said the name in such a low voice that no human ears could have heard. Werewolf ears picked up the muttered name easily though, and Remus looked at him with surprise.

“Snape?”

“Well...” Harry took a deep breath before blurting it all out. “Dumbledore has a really nice cottage that’s out in the middle of nowhere and he thinks that you all need to take a break from what’s happening so he said that you can go there for a few months until you feel better.”

The two men sat in silence for a long time, Harry well aware that he should have said it in some other way -- any other way, really -- and wondering what Remus was thinking as the older man nursed his drink. It was Remus who after about a quarter of an hour finally said something.

“‘Us all’ being me, Sirius and... Snape?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Well, I can see why you wanted to talk to me first.”

“Sirius would have exploded,” Harry agreed nervously, worried about how calm Remus seemed. “I was thinking that maybe...”

“If you convinced me first I’d talk to Sirius for you.”

“Yes. Yes, I'm sorry." After a few moments of silence, he look up from his hands and added a quiet: "Was I wrong?”

“Yes.”

Harry sighed and was just about to apologise again when Remus gave him a small smile and a sly wink.

“You’re still going to have to be here when we tell Sirius about our new holiday plans.”

Sirius Black.

Only Dumbledore, he thought with a frown. Only Dumbledore would ever, ever come up with something so incredibly... stupid. The day that old fool went senile nobody was going to notice for at least twenty years. Or, Sirius snickered at the thought, maybe the Headmaster had just finally had enough of Snape and wanted him killed. Now that was something he could sympathise with.

As he packed his belongings he thought about his conversation with Moony and Harry. It had taken a lot; emotional blackmail (both from Harry and Moony), direct threats (mostly Moony), a bit of pouting (mostly Harry) and a stern talking to from Dumbledore to make him agree to go. No amount of talking could get him to promise not to turn old Snivellus to a slug at the first sign of lip, though.

Nor could it stop him from sulking.

“Mooonny,” he called out loud enough to be heard in the room next to his. “Did you take my left shoe?”

“It’s in the living-room,” the other man called back, and even though Sirius couldn’t see him he knew that his old friend was rolling his eyes.

“What is my shoe doing in the living-room?”

He perfectly well knew why, of course; he just wanted to tease Moony into smiling. His friend was being way too somber these days. That was, he acknowledged to himself, the real reason why he was going. Moony needed to get away from all of this and if his only remaining friend needed something, then Sirius was going to make damn sure that he got it. And there was, obviously, no way he was ever going to let Moony spend several months alone with Snape-The-Slytherin-Snake.

“Because you threw it at me,” came the answer. “You stupid prick.”

“Now really, Moony, why would I throw my shoes at you?”

“Because you’re a demented thirty-seven year old brat? Or maybe your mother dropped you on your head when you were little!”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if she had,” Sirius agreed loudly with a half-amused, half-bitter smile -- bitter because it wouldn’t at all surprise him if his mother had indeed dropped (or thrown perhaps?) him on his head as a kid and amused because it wasn’t that often he got quiet ol’ Moony to shoot obscenities. Even though ‘prick’ was a bit sad as obscenities went.

The portrait of Frau Black obviously had a lot to say in response to the accusations (well, truth to be told, there weren’t that many subjects she didn’t have a lot of opinions on) and for the next twenty minutes Sirius amused himself by listening to his mother’s awful screaming. It made him feel... well, not normal, but with a surprised laugh he realised that he enjoyed the familiarity of it all.

“Care to share the joke?” a warm voice asked from the door, and he turned around to give Moony a happy smile. His old friend looked happier than he had for weeks and Sirius quietly accepted that he was making the right choice. The constant fighting between the two of them had been wearing Moony down. Admittedly, he didn't enjoy them much either. But he wasn't even half as sensitive as Remus and didn't take the arguments to heart the same way.

“Just enjoying my dysfunctional family,” he said with a wide grin, earning a small chuckle from the werewolf.

“I hope that doesn’t mean we have to bring her with us?”

“Only if we put her in Snape’s bedroom,” he replied quickly, his grin growing wider. “I bet they could have some fascinating conversations. He’s always reminded me of her. Bigoted and prone to screaming fits.”

“She knows he’s a traitor to the Cause,” Moony pointed out as he returned the shoe that had been thrown after him earlier. Sirius accepted it with a bright smile. “Which means that she in all likelihood is more fond of me than him by now.”

“You’re probably right,” Sirius agreed as he pulled on his shoes. “Soo... have you packed everything?”

“Oh, yes. I have everything I need. Except the Wolfsbane Potion, of course. But I’m sorta hoping that Severus will bring that.”

Sirius sat up so fast that the world began to spin. He stared at his friend until the large blots became smaller and his vision returned to normal.

“Severus?”

His voice sounded funny even to himself.

“Well,” Moony said with a shrug, “we’re going to live in the same house for weeks, possibly months... We can’t very well continue to call him just Snape, now can we?”

“We lived in the same castle as him for seven years,” Sirius quickly protested, “and we didn’t have any problems calling him Snape then, now did we? If you need to be more familiar with the git, use Snivellus! That’s bound to make him listen.”

“Sirius!” He broke eye contact first and Moony continued as if he hadn’t said a word. “I don’t think that’s the same thing. But you don’t have to call him Severus unless you want to, Sirius. I will though.”

“If he lets you.”

He had a hard time imagining Snape letting them call him by his first name. (Or Snape calling them by their first names.) He had an even harder time imagining living with him for months. It’s for Moony, he reminded himself. You can do that for your best friend. Your only friend. Only friend that’s alive, anyway.

“He’ll let me,” Moony stated with a determined look in his eyes.

That was maybe the first time Sirius felt really sorry for Severus Snape.