Horizons

Sirius Black stared in the mirror, studying his sallow and hollowed features with dull interest. His hair was back to being shaggy and matted. His eyes were fever-bright from lack of good nutrition and his several days growth of beard could no longer be classified as a three o'clock shadow by any stretch of the imagination.

"You okay?" He turned at the voice and gave a weak grin. Remus Lupin, his remaining childhood friend, stood in the doorway of his guest's bedroom, his lanky frame leaning against the jam.

"I suppose," Sirius replied, turning back to stare at the face in the mirror. "I took a lot of things for granted, you know, Remus, things I never thought I'd be without."

Remus eyed him a moment and then prompted, "Like what?"

Sirius turned back to his friend and collasped on the lumpy mattress on the rickety bed. "Food. Sleep. Laughter."

"Friends."

Sirius looked up at his friend in surprise. "Yeah, I never thought I'd be without those."

"Hard to do, isn't it?" Remus' voice was casual, but Sirius knew that tone; he'd heard it many times when they were schoolmates.

"My respect for you has grown ten-fold, my friend." Sirius fell back onto the mattress and tiredly rubbed a hand over his face. "I always thought you over-dramatized your situation somewhat, but you weren't kidding about how hard it was, were you?"

Remus hesitated before answering, weighing his words and the impact they possibly could have. "No, I wasn't kidding. You, James and Peter were my lifelines, Sirius. Without you, without Hogwarts, I'd be what everyone says werewolves are. I would have become a monster, callous and vengeful. I might have been justified as well. After all, in many ways, we are what people think us to be."

Sirius snorted. "I guess, but don't tell Snape that. He might think if he wishes hard enough, he'll be human."

Remus didn't join in on the small chuckle. "That's not fair, Sirius, you have no idea what Severus has been through any more than he knows what you have been through."

Sirius gave his old friend a long considering look. "Now what," he drawled, "does that mean?"

Remus shrugged, unwilling to continue.

Sirius sat up. "No, tell me what you mean."

Remus sighed and walked over to join his friend on the lumpy bed. "You never knew how hard it was for me. I doubt even now you don't truly know, though you have a better idea than before. I'm not a fugitive, Sirius, I'm not hunted like you are. I am, just like you though, fearful of what will happen when people see me. It's well-known that I'm a werewolf. It doesn't matter that I have endorsement from Dumbledore that I'm not a monster. I live in a constant state of poverty. This," he made a grand sweep of the shabby room with his hand, "is the best I've done in years."

Sirius looked around with little interest, following the motion of Remus' hand. "What's that got to do with Snape?"

"Severus was born into a well-known wizarding family, pure bloods as much as you, me or James. So they weren't the most upstanding of citizens but we can overlook that. We never knew anything of Severus' home life as a child. We probably never will, as closed mouth as he is about his past, but I would imagine it's safe to say it wasn't a happy one." Remus gave his friend a quick glance. "Wouldn't you?"

Sirius grunted in reply.

Remus took the grunt as an assent. "He wasn't a nice boy in school, but we weren't exactly cordial to him either. Neither of us tried to even be polite to each other unless we were forced."

"Or a teacher was around," snorted Sirius, running a hand through matted black hair.

"Yes," Remus agreed with a nod. "He had his friends and we had ours. It's the way of things. His friends, however, were a bad crowd, we can say, and like us all he followed where they went. I'd lay odds he not only followed but he may have led a few himself. Right to Voldemort, right to the Deatheaters."

"Birds of a feather," muttered Sirius, but Remus ignored him.

"The point to Severus is that he changed. What changed him or how the change came about, who knows? Dumbledore obviously and probably some Ministry wizards. Severus changed sides, maybe out of self-preservation, he saw which side was more likely to win and switched while he could make good."

"He's always been clever like that," Sirius muttered again.

"Or," Remus continued undaunted, "perhaps there was something more profound."

Sirius interrupted with a barking laugh. "Severus Snape? Profound?"

Remus turned stern brown eyes on his friend. "Quiet."

Sirius' laughter subsided.

"Either way, it happened. Whatever he's done, he's paying for it now, Sirius. He wasn't that greasy in school. Look at him closely next time you see him. That is a deeply unhappy man, down to his soul. His ego is the only thing that keeps him from sinking into some soulless quagmire, I'd wager, that and whatever Dumbledore has him around for. Severus deep down has no sense of self-worth, despite his talents and skills. He has a position of some distinction at Hogwarts and he has the respect of a powerful wizard, namely Dumbledore, yet he's still this nasty individual."

"Rotten to the core," Sirius grumbled. Remus sighed, knowing his point wasn't being gotten across to his equally stubborn, egotistically minded friend.

"He was civil to me most of the school year I was there. He had his moments, of course, our reunion notwithstanding, but all in all, he was almost pleasant for Snape. He was against me more out of prejudice more than for anything against me personally."

Sirius stared at his friend. "What are you trying to say, Remus?"

Remus gave a long look at his friend. "I'm trying to point out that at the moment you and Severus Snape have a lot more in common than you care to think about at the moment. Perhaps it's time for you to take a look at your life, what little you've gotten to live and compare to someone who is in similar circumstances."

Sirius stood up, shaking the bed as he rose. "I have nothing in common with Severus Snape, Remus, and I resent the implication."

Remus stood as well and shrugged. "Resent it all you like, Sirius, but it's still there and it's not going away. Your guilt over James and Lily's deaths is eating you up inside. There is no excuse for this," he gestured distastefully at Sirius' ragged form. "You can bathe in streams and the like even on the run. Surely there were clothes you could steal. You didn't have to live on rats, you could have found food another way. You are punishing yourself, whether you realize it or not, just like Snape is. His sense of self-worth is so low he won't care for himself because he doesn't care about himself."

Remus walked to the door and spared a glance over his shoulder. "I'm going to take what little money I have and buy you a toothbrush, a hair comb and some clothes. I suggest you bath and wash your hair. Maybe, just maybe, it'll improve your disposition about yourself."

The door closed gently behind Remus and Sirius stared at it a moment. The words hit home, but then Remus had always been unusually perceptive, probably because of his own circumstances.

Doing as he was bid, Sirius bathed and washed his hair. When he came out of the bathroom he found a clean change of worn, but neat looking clothes on the bed along with a hair comb and a toothbrush.

Remus was right, he did feel a little better. Not great, but better.

"One step at a time," he murmured to himself as he tied his shoes.

"Good advice," Remus said as he passed the doorway.

"Did you give it to Snape?" Sirius growled, stepping into the hall with his friend.

Remus shook his head. "I don't think anyone can reach Snape. It may be too late. I hope not, but it may be. A shame, really, Severus has done so much good without even realizing, helping against Voldemort. If he looked at it hard enough he might see that worth."

It clicked. Sirius' felt a grin starting to spread. "It's getting him to see that worth that's going to be the trick."

Remus chuckled, handing a laundry basket to Sirius. "Yes, that is the trick," he agreed.

"So why compare me to Snape," Sirius asked, staring down at the folded shirts and socks in the basket.

"Telling you to your face never worked. You always had to be insulted to get the point. What better way than to compare you to someone you've always viewed as pathetic?" Remus' brown eyes were twinkling in laughter.

"Thanks, old friend," Sirius said dryly. "It's good to be loved."

Remus patted his friend's back. "That's what friends are for."

"Does Snape have any?"

"What?"

"Friends."

Remus shrugged. "You're assuming he's let anyone get close enough to him to know him. I'd say he has one."

"Albus Dumbledore." Sirius' voice was grim.

"Whatever the reason, Dumbledore implicitly trusts Severus, and that's good enough for me, Sirius. Hang those in my closet, will you? I'm fixing dinner."

Sirius padded into the other bedroom, which was just as spartan as his own. He mulled over Remus' words and decided that of the three lonely men, the only one getting anything of worth out of his life was the one that had the deck stacked against him from an early age.

Remus Lupin was not a monster, Sirius thought to himself, he was a man of wide horizons that led to nowhere. And that was truly the saddest thing Sirius had ever come across, even among the pathetic wretches of Azkaban.