Chapter 12 - Placing Blame
He thought that Black would transform the moment his door was shut. He was mistaken, and he watched in annoyance as the dog began moving quickly through his chambers, nose sniffing everything he moved passed. Severus wanted to protest, wanted to catch the loathsome creature in a body bind and stop this rude invasion. But he had made his decision, and there was no point in denying these actions. They were inevitable, and he had to accept what was to come - if only to get it over with.
Still, some insult would be appropriate. "You piss on anything Black and I'll skin you for a hearth rug," he sneered. The dog growled low in his throat, but did not stop his incessant sniffing. Severus sat down in front of his fireplace, and watched in silence.
Harry's desk was given a close inspection, and the dog had the audacity to wag his tail as he sniffed the cloak the boy had left draped over the back of his chair.
Everything else in the room was inspected, and Severus had to admit that Black's nose must be extraordinary as he managed to pick out everything that the boy had touched. He moved on then to the other rooms, sniffing the door around the potions lab before his hackles raised and he moved on, as if knowing that at least one room in this place was Severus' domain completely. Save for their one impromptu lesson, Harry had avoided his lab.
His office received only a cursory sniff as well; Harry rarely went there either, save to borrow some parchment or quills. The library however was given a thorough going over. Harry often read in there. He'd asked at first, if he could read the books, borrow one from time to time. Severus had given him permission, and had out of curiosity kept track of what the boy found interesting. Spell books, charms, defense against the dark arts - he'd had the gall to ask one night why Severus didn't own any books on Quidditch. Surprisingly, the boy had always left the library in the same condition he found it, never a book out of place, all save that one time when he'd fought with Severus about his clothes. Severus had heard the books flying off the shelves when the angry young man had locked himself in there - unrestrained, wandless magic sending them flying. He'd put them to rights himself, never mentioning it to Harry again.
And then to Severus' utter annoyance, Black moved from the library to the bedroom, pushing open the door with his snout without even a backward glance for permission. He listened in silence, guessing at least part of the conversation that was going to take place in a few moments - assuming Black didn't simply go for his throat instead. The growls coming from the bedroom suggested that violence might indeed be the outcome, and Severus quietly moved his fingers toward his wand, ready to pull it out if it became necessary.
But Black didn't come out immediately, choosing instead to search the room entirely before returning to the main room. When he stepped back through the bedroom door he was once again in his human form, his face as dark as a thundercloud. Anger and menace were radiating off the man as he stood in the doorway glaring at him.
"You force him to sleep in your bed." The words from Black's mouth were hard, cold, and filled with accusation and hatred.
Severus held his temper, only because he knew this had been coming. "I don't force him to do anything, Black," he stated, his voice just as hard, just as cold. "He is my bond-mate, not my prisoner. And if you thought about it even for a moment, you'd realize that not even Voldemort has had success with forcing that boy to do anything he didn't want to do."
Something flickered through Black's eyes. Surprise, Severus thought, though it was quickly masked. "You're suggesting he wants to sleep in your bed?" It was obvious from his tone that Black was implying the exact opposite.
"No, Black," Severus snarled. "I can assure you that he quite detested the idea. As did I."
Black's eyes narrowed at that, obviously disbelieving the later statement. But then Severus had to concede it had been a poor lie - he had wanted to detest it, but Potter was too blasted attractive for it to be true.
"But neither of us had much choice in the matter," Severus continued quickly. "Minister Fudge forced both of us into this situation by his actions."
"You're telling me that the great Severus Snape can't remember how to transfigure up a second bed?" Black mocked, jaw clenched.
Severus glared back, wondering if twelve years in Azkaban had really addled the man's brain so completely. "Two weeks ago I discovered a Wandering Eye Charm on Potter's broom, no doubt put there by one of my Slytherin students at the request of their parents. By the time I found it, the Eye had already made a complete search of these quarters. All Fudge needs is a single excuse that this marriage is invalid. A second bed would certainly have been excuse enough."
Something flared in Black's eyes, and Severus could see the man biting back some retort. His jaw never relaxed. "Is that why you were chosen? Because no one would imagine that the marriage was not valid?" He spoke the word valid with contempt. "Because no one would imagine that you would not take full advantage of Harry the moment you had him alone?"
Severus fought down his own rage. He was used to such accusations, had in fact cultivated the reputation. "That was one of the reasons," he admitted. "The fact that we had approximately fifteen minutes to find someone suitable didn't help matters either."
"Really?" Black's eyes flashed with anger. "You're telling me there was no one else in this castle who was suitable? I suppose Sonara Sinistra was out of town at the time?"
Severus stiffened as he stared at Black in utter shock. Sinistra! He couldn't believe the man was suggesting such a thing. "You know, Black, despite all the things I have thought of you over the years, I have never believed you had anything but Potter's best interest at heart. Until now."
Black's eyes widened and he took several steps toward him before catching himself. "His best interest! You must think very highly of yourself if you think - "
"Do you have any idea how starved for affection that boy is?" Severus silenced Black's tirade quite effectively with those words. The man's face paled as if Severus had struck him.
"I'll grant you," Severus continued, "that Sonara Sinistra would most likely have jumped at the chance to marry the Boy Who Lived. It's something no social climber would ever refuse. And I'll grant you that no one would deny the validity of such a marriage, something that would be true in fact as well as appearance most likely that very night. Sinistra's appetites are very well known."
Sonara Sinistra went through young men the way other women went through clothes. Students were off limits to her, but everyone on the Hogwarts' staff knew what she meant by the 'Seventh Year Hunt'. The moment the semester let out for the summer session, Sinistra went after the best and brightest of the graduated class.
"No doubt Sinistra would have rocked Mr. Potter's world," Severus went on. "Would have had him believing that the sun rose and set with her. For about a week. Then she would have lost all interest in him, and moved on to someone else. She would have left your godson heartbroken and betrayed. For all his courage and maturity, he is still a sixteen-year-old boy who desperately wants to be loved. Sinistra would have chewed him up and spit him out."
Black stood there in silence, face still pale. Sinistra had obviously been his capital argument and he seemed uncertain where to go now that Severus had so clearly pointed out the ridiculousness of the situation. Truth was, Sinistra hadn't even occurred to any of them that night - would have been dismissed by all of them if she had been. Even he, who had been ready to fight tooth and nail against marrying Potter himself, would not have accepted Sinistra as a possible substitute. Sinistra would have destroyed Potter more effectively than anything Voldemort had come up with.
He made a note to himself to keep an eye on Sinistra - Potter was no longer precisely off limits to her. As a married man, he did not have the same protections as the rest of the students. And he knew for a fact that marriage would be no deterrent to her - indeed many older wizards and witches preferred to have affairs with younger married men and women who would understand that the union was casual and that nothing would ever come of it.
"There was no one else?" Black asked then, his tone indicating that he had obviously accepted the fact that Sinistra had not been a possibility.
"We had fifteen minutes, Black. Who would you have suggested? McGonagall, perhaps? No one would have bought that." With the exception of Trelawney and Sinistra, all the other female staff members were married. Even Black wouldn't suggest that Trelawney had the strength to go up against Fudge. "We needed someone who was believable. Someone who had enough standing to face down the Ministry. And someone strong enough to protect Potter from Voldemort. Who would you have suggested?"
Black didn't answer. Rather he turned away from Severus and began pacing restlessly around the room in silence. Severus waited, watching him, not really knowing how to read the play of emotion on the man's face. He really expected more argument from the man. It had never occurred to him that Black might actually consider his words - might actually look at the situation logically. He didn't think the Gryffindor had even known how to reason.
Finally Black's pacing took him near Severus, and he dropped down into the chair across from him. There was a look of defeat in the man's face, and Severus stifled back his taunt of glee that he'd actually won the argument.
"Well, I suppose we don't have to worry that Harry might accidentally fall in love with you," Black said flatly, obviously still thinking about what Severus had said about Sinistra. The comment stung no doubt a great deal more than Black had intended.
"No, I doubt you'll ever have to worry about that," Severus bit out, fighting to keep the anger out of his voice.
Black looked up at him, his gaze hardening again. "If I ever find out that you tried to force yourself-"
"Don't finish that statement!" Severus cut him off swiftly. "I would have no choice but to take offence. And if we are to educate Mr. Potter in proper Wizarding customs, he too would have no choice but to take offense." He could no more let that insult go than he could have let Draco Malfoy's insults to Harry pass unremarked.
Again, to his surprise, Black conceded, making no attempt to finish what he'd been about say. His gaze however did not waver. "Just so we're clear on the subject," he stated coldly.
"Perfectly," Severus growled.
They sat in silence again, and Severus waited for Black to deliver what ever parting shot he'd prepared before leaving. Far as he was concerned, they were done discussing what they inevitably had to clash over. Black, however, surprised him yet again.
"Half the clothes in Harry's wardrobe don't have his scent on them, why not?"
Severus frowned. He had not been expecting such an out of the blue comment. "I suppose because he has not yet worn all of them. I only just bought them for him."
"You intend to fulfill your duties to him then?"
Severus leaped to his feet in shock, rage burning through him. That insult, while of a completely different nature, was just as great as the one he'd just stopped Black from uttering seconds before. The only difference here was that this insult was delivered to Severus alone. Black, mongrel dog or not, still belonged to one of the oldest pureblood families in the Wizarding World, a family that Severus knew had been in Slytherin for hundreds of years until Sirius Black had come along. He could forgive Harry his misunderstandings concerning money, housing, clothing and care because the boy had grown up a Muggle. But Black knew full well what he'd just said, what insult he'd just given to the Snape family honor.
But before Severus could formulate a proper response, Black too had leaped to his feet, fury on his face. "I am his godfather!" he shouted, hands clenched into fists. "It was my right to ask that question before this marriage ever took place! You will not deny me now!"
Black's words shut him up more effectively than a blow would have. The insult that Severus had been about to deliver slipped from his mind, replaced by disbelief. He found himself dropping numbly back down into his chair as the unreality of the situation suddenly struck him. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard, couldn't conceive of it; it was beyond laughable.
But there was no denying the look in Black's eyes. He was dead serious about this. And Severus had no choice but to accept the fact that somehow, impossibly, he'd just become involved in betrothal negotiations with Sirius Black for the hand of Harry Potter. He stared in silence, watched in numb shock as Black sat back down, body stiff with anger, gaze never wavering.
He didn't know what to say. This was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. If he was honest with himself, then Black was right. He did have the right to the answer - should have been given the chance to ask before the marriage had taken place and thus made an acceptable question a grave insult.
He swallowed past a suddenly dry throat, trying to find words they could both live with. Despite everything, all their past hatred, he had to admit he admired Black's determination.
"There is no point to this. . . .negotiation," he said slowly, making clear by his words that he understood exactly what Black had intended by that statement. "I made an oath that I will not break. He will want for nothing."
And that alone would have to satisfy Black. Severus intended to offer nothing else.
Black glared at him, and Severus could see a glimpse of the torment so many years in Azkaban had wrought; for the first time he could almost pity Black for it, for missing a lifetime with his godson. For the first time he could also almost see what it was that Potter and Lupin saw in the man. Despite the torment he'd endured, he'd come out of Azkaban still possessing the capacity to love. And love he did - fiercely. Severus couldn't blame him for wanting what was best for Harry.
So caught in this startling realization, Severus almost didn't catch Black's first words. "Dumbledore says you were a spy for him all along. That you were never a Death Eater. That you had tried to save Lily and Ja. .James." His voice broke as he said his friend's name. Severus stayed silent, suspecting that this was going somewhere. Suspecting also that this conversation was probably long over due.
"Dumbledore says you first joined to stop your father. That you didn't believe their ideology, that you turned your back on their preaching," Black continued, and Severus knew that the proverbial 'their' he was referring to were the other Death Eaters and the Dark Wizards that were so prevalent amongst the Slytherin families. He couldn't help wondering where this was going.
"Dumbledore said your father was an evil man, a cruel man. That your mother was not much better." Black wasn't looking at him now, staring instead at a point beyond his shoulder. Severus bristled at the implication that Albus had been talking about his family to Black, but he managed to hold his tongue.
Barely.
"My family. . ." Black began again, only to break off, something flickering darkly in his eyes. Severus knew all about Black's family - Dark Wizards the lot of them. Generations of them. Respected by the Wizarding community, respected and feared. It was one of the reasons no one had questioned Sirius Black's guilt, why no one had even raised an outcry when he'd gone to Azkaban without a trial. No one except one lone werewolf whose voice had been lost amid the screams of outrage.
"My family," Black repeated, "were evil, cruel, and angry that I turned my back on their preaching."
It struck him then, where this might be going. Disbelief swelled inside of him. Severus fought the urge to squirm in his seat, his stomach twisting suddenly with nausea. God, surely Black wasn't doing this? Wasn't going to point out the similarities between them - he didn't want to look at those similarities, didn't want to acknowledge any kinship with the man. That was not how their relationship worked. It was too little, too late. They weren't going to bond. Weren't going to be friends. So why in Merlin's name was he putting them both through the torment of voicing things that should never be uttered?
"Things come back to you at odd times," Black said in a strange tone, his voice somehow hollow, almost lost. "Memories come back to you and send your mind in directions it shouldn't go. Sometimes those memories set you off, sometimes you say and do things because of them, and you don't even know why."
What in God's name was the man trying to do to them? Severus was seconds away from screaming at him. Seconds away from grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and throwing him from his rooms. He wasn't Black's confessor, wasn't his confidant. Didn't want to hear his angst-ridden story. . .why would he. . .
"The Dursleys hurt Harry," Black's words cut off Severus thoughts abruptly, understanding flooding through him at last. This wasn't about him or Black. This was about Harry. This was all about Harry.
"The Dursleys hurt Harry," Black repeated. "And you didn't see it. You saw him nearly every day for five years, and you didn't see it, even though you should have recognized all the signs. I didn't see it even though I should have recognized all the signs. I doubt they are unfamiliar to either of us."
The nausea twisted into pain as Severus let the man's words sink in.
"I saw him briefly just before term started last year," Black told him. "I remember thinking he was too thin. But he had a great appetite and I shrugged it off as typical teenage growing pains. They're all thin when they go through growth spurts after all. Except he hadn't gone through much of a growth spurt - hard to do that I imagine when you're being starved. I remember seeing bruises on his arms and I asked him what had happened. He just shrugged and said they were from a Quidditch accident. Except Harry wasn't allowed to play Quidditch at the Dursleys - a fact I conveniently forgot."
Black stood abruptly and began pacing again. Severus stared at the ground, refusing to watch, knowing he had to hear the rest, knowing Black wouldn't leave until he said what he needed to.
"I over heard the Weasley twins telling him and Ron about playing the game Deuces," Black went on. Severus gave a twisted smile at that; no one got through seventh year without learning about Deuces - a ridiculous card game which generally ended with the two losers being locked in a closet together for five minutes. A quick groping, snog-session was the ultimate goal of the game.
"Harry had been horrified by the description of the game," Black explained. "I remembered the teasing he endured that night at dinner. Even Remus and I teased him about it. It seemed to take forever for him to finally catch on to what we were all talking about and blush appropriately. I realize now that the whole kissing aspect of the game had been lost on him. All he had been thinking about was being locked up in a small space."
And that brought back the memory of Severus' careless words to Harry his first night here. He could still remember the look on his face when he'd suggested he sleep in the closet.
"We should have known," Black stated. "We should have seen it. We both should have seen it."
And Severus couldn't agree more, the knot in his stomach evidence enough. "Yes, we should have," he said quietly.
Black turned swiftly toward him, seeming startled by his words. Severus met his gaze. And all the years of bitterness and resentment seemed to stand between them like unbreachable walls.
"Then you admit it," Black demanded, and his voice was unforgiving, and sharp as steel. "You admit that we failed him."
"Yes, Black, I admit it." In this - this shame - they were united.
And it seemed that was all Black wanted. No warmth entered his eyes, but he nodded in acknowledgement and returned to his canine form, shifting from one to another too quickly to follow.
The black Grim sat silently beside the door, waiting, and with a sigh Severus got up and let him out.