Part Four: A New Understanding

Black quietly opened the bedchamber door. Snape looked around. Shaking his head, he indicated that Black was to make no sound. Merly suddenly appeared at Snape's side, his large eyes moist with restrained emotion.

"Merly," Snape's voice was softly quiet, "would you be so kind as to do three things for me?"

"Yes, Master," the House Elf whispered. "Merly awaits."

"The spare room in the North Tower. Could you see to it that it is fit for a guest?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then when it is, see to it that all of Thomas Jeffries' possessions are transferred to that room."

"Yes, Master."

"And thirdly, do you think you could find Dobby and Winky for me and ask them to come here?"

"Yes, Master. Merly goes right away."

"Thank you, Merly."

Black waited until the House Elf disappeared. "Snape..."

"Not now, Black. I'll answer your questions later. Right now, the boy needs silence."

Thomas, Black noticed, had continued staring into the fire. Snape stood by him, cautiously placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gradually allowed it to rest there. While they waited, slowly, as though it were a small animal inching its way to safety, Thomas's hand moved up to his shoulder and to the hand resting there. Snape waited until he was certain the hand was not going to fly away, and then carefully turned his palm so that his hand could clasp the boy's.

There came a faint knock on the door. At Snape's nod, Black walked noiselessly to the door and opened it. Merly, accompanied by two other House Elves, silently entered the room.

Merly, like all House Elves, wore a sort of tea towel toga around his body. These two were different.

The male wore socks on his feet, of different colours and designs. His body was covered in an old black t-shirt with the faded logo of the Gateful Dread, a wizard rock band that had been popular in the days of Black's youth. The female was wearing a tea cozy on her head with a large purple paper flower. It matched the purple of the sun top that she wore as a dress.

"Master?" whispered Merly. "We is all here."

Snape turned to the House Elves. "Thank you, Merly. Dobby, I have a mission for you, if it pleases you."

Dobby bowed, eyes glistening with proud tears. "Dobby is honoured, Sir."

"Thomas Jeffries is not well. He is in need of care and protection. We need to assure him of both of those. He will need to remain in his room until he is better. Someone must see to it that food is brought to him, clean clothes, that he is kept clean and, should anything happen, that I am informed of it as soon as possible, no matter where I am in Hogwarts. Would you be willing to undertake this mission?"

"Yes, Sir. I does all that."

"Thank you. And Winky, the boy needs care. Lots of it. Would that be a mission you would agree to take on?"

Frowning, Winky slowly approached the boy until she was at his side. Gingerly she reached out with a long-fingered hand until her finger tips touched his cheek.

The boy did not react.

Face wrinkled up in concern, she moved a little closer so that she could see his face.

"OH!" Angrily, she turned to Snape. "Who does this to him?"

Black was taken aback. He had never before heard a House Elf snarl that way.

Snape looked at her, not at all surprised by her behaviour. "Someone who should have loved him but doesn't. Someone who has taken his spirit and done his best to beat the life out of it. Someone who must never be allowed near him again."

Whatever passed between the Potions Master and the House Elf, Black could only suppose that some understanding had been reached. Winky gave a sharp nod of her head and turned to the boy. "Master Thomas."

Black was suddenly reminded of Lilbeth's voice.

"Master Thomas, you comes with me. Winky takes care of you now. You is very special to Winky. Come now."

Jeffries suddenly seemed to realize that someone was speaking to him. He blinked, looked around the room confused. His breathing became louder, more erratic as he seemed ready to panic.

The sound took Snape by surprise but Black recognized it. Lilbeth had hummed to him that same way when, as a child, he had awakened from a nightmare. He watched it have the same effect on the boy as it had had on him: he calmed.

"You comes with me, Master Thomas. I takes care of you. I keeps you safe."

Snape lowered their joined hands to the House Elf who slipped hers under, taking the boy's. With a nod for Snape, she continued the humming noise as Thomas Jeffries rose and followed her out of the room.

Dobby started to follow them out. "When Dobby reports to Sir?"

"Here, in the evenings. If I am not here, Sirius Black will be. You can report to him."

Dobby gave them both a House Elf version of a salute and shut the door behind him.

"Merly," said Black as Snape dropped into the vacated chair, "brandy, please."

Black took the glass of brandy from Merly without ever taking his eyes off Snape. The Potions Master sat squinting into the fire, seeing something only he could see.

"Snape? Snape? Severus? Here, take a sip of this. It will help."

Eyes almost squinted closed, Snape grimaced, turning his head away at the smell of the brandy Black was holding under his nose. "N...no." He pulled his head back slightly, wincing at the movement. "I don't drink."

"Yes," Black realized that Snape must be suffering from some kind of reaction, "I've noticed. But consider it medicine." And he held the glass to Snape's mouth.

But again Snape pulled back, face white. "No, that's what he called it."

"Who?" Black lowered the glass, knowing now that Snape would never take any. "Who called it that?" Then he forged into an idea that had come to life while listening to Snape deal with the boy. "The man who beat you?"

Snape's response was to turn his head away from the light of the fire, catching a whimper at the motion.

"Sir?" whispered Merly by Black's ear. "This works best."

Black looked to see Merly holding a tray with a slightly steaming goblet. He quickly exchanged the glass for the goblet. "Thank you, Merly. Severus, here. This is what you need. Drink it while it's still warm. Here, I'll hold it for you. No, keep your eyes closed. That way the light won't add to your headache."

As Black held the goblet so that Snape drank, Merly whispered again, "I gets the bed turned down."

It took several minutes for the goblet to be finished. Once, Black thought that Snape was about to vomit but by removing the goblet and waiting a moment or two, the crisis passed and Snape was able to empty it. "Excellent. That was well done, Severus." Black kept his voice even pitched and soft. Even so, Snape winced again.

Damn! thought Black. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Sir?"

Black nodded at the House Elf. "Severus, let's get you up to your feet. Slowly. Yes, keep your head straight. No need to open your eyes. I'm with you. I'll see to it that you don't bump into anything." Then, remembering the words that had seemed to provide comfort to the boy, he added, "You're safe here. Here, no one will hurt you."

With Merly hovering by to help, they slowly made their way to the bedchamber. Merly had seen to the fire so that it was once more lit to provide warmth, but had also pulled down the bed curtains on that side so that the light would not irritate Snape's too-sensitive eyes. Snape's side of the bed had been turned down and his nightshirt was lying there, ready to be put on.

Black carefully steered Snape to the bed. Quickly, he removed Snape's robe and tossed it aside. He unbuttoned the black pants and began drawing them and underwear down to Snape's thighs. "Sit. Sit, Severeus. I'll take care of the rest."

Black had never seen Snape so white. There was no colour left in the man's face and every movement seemed to cause him pain. Crouching, he quickly and efficiently removed ankle boots and socks, pants and underwear.

Damn, thought Black as he tackled the many buttoned high-neck jacket that Snape wore under his robe, why the bloody hell does he wear these things? Like bloody...

Armour.

Black's hands stilled and he looked into the face of the man who was barely conscious. Fuck, thought Black, and finished as quickly as he could. The loose shirt under the jacket was also buttoned, but once he had the top six undone, with careful manoeuvring, he managed to pull the shirt off. The nightshirt had no buttons, but a series of ties. Black decided to leave them.

He was standing to help Snape lie down when Snape's hands slowly lifted and attempted to do up the ties. Black closed his hands over Snape's. "It's all right, Severus. I'll do them up. There, all safe now. Lie down. Shall I hold your head? Easy. Easy. Yes, that's the way."

Black went to lift Snape's feet so that he would be lying comfortably when, "Sir?" and Merly was there with a hot water bottle, well wrapped in flannel. Black nodded. "Good thinking, Merly," he whispered.

He tucked the bottle against Snape's feet, covered him gently, and stood watching until he was certain that Snape was fully under the influence of the potion.

Back in the main room, Black found the brandy that Snape had rejected. He tossed it back and waited for the warmth to chase the chill out of his system.

"Merly?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Does that happen often?"

"Sometimes one, sometimes two times."

"A year?"

"Sometimes, Sir." Merly approached Black with the tray, offering the brandy to him. Black went to help himself and then shook his head. He placed his glass on the tray and Merly smiled approvingly at him. "What is the potion?"

"For sleep. For the pain."

Black sat in Snape's chair and looked Merly face to face. "You were prepared for this. The potion was ready."

Merly shrugged his thin narrow shoulders. "Potion not special. If it not needed, Merly throws away. Merly knew the meeting with the boy is not easy"

Black nodded. "How long will he sleep?"

"Maybe morning, maybe noon." Merly hesitated then added, "Sometimes nightmares."

Black nodded again. He rubbed his face with his hands. "Is the boy all right?"

Merly grinned. "Dobby standing guard at door and Winky humming to him."

Black smiled. "That's good. Thank you, Merly, for all your help tonight. I'll call you in the morning."

Black left the bedchamber door slightly ajar and quietly undressed. He was careful not to jostle the bed in any way when he slipped under the sheets. He propped himself up on a couple of the pillows so that he could watch as Severus Snape slept.

He must have dozed off because he nearly pulled a muscle jerking awake at the sound of the moans. He looked around and memory quickly came back. Snape was moving as though trying to evade something. Black slid down and carefully took him into his arms. "Shhh, no. It's all right. You're safe. He can't hurt you here. I won't let him."

But the nightmare had no intention of letting go. Black held Snape, not wanting to startle him, but all the while trying to awaken him. "Severus, it's all right. You're safe. See, open your eyes, see, it's me. Not him. Not the man who hur..." Bloody hell! But he had hurt him. "Not the man who beat you. Just me."

Nothing seemed to work. Then Black remembered Jeffries' response to Winky's humming. He wasn't as good at it as a House Elf, and it had been some time, but holding Snape close to him, he hummed the lullaby that had worked so well against his nightmares as a child.

Finally, something penetrated Snape's foggy brain and he stilled, then opened his unseeing eyes. Black tenderly stroked back the long, sweat-drenched hair off the man's face.

"Sirius?"

The word chilled Black. Not because it was the first time Snape had ever used his first name, but because the voice was not that of a man, was that of a child.

"Yes, Severus."

Snape smiled up at him and then nestled his head on Black's shoulder. He sighed. "Sirius," the child said again, this time in a tone of utter contentment, and fell back asleep.

He knew if he opened his eyes, the light would hurt. So he kept his eyes shut and wondered what time it was.

"You're in your bed."

He had to think for a moment before he recognized the voice. "Of course I'm in my bed, " he muttered, and then wished he hadn't as the mere sound of his voice drummed back and forth in his brain.

"How's the head?"

Stupid question, thought Snape. "Still there," but whispered this time. He would have loved to snap but he didn't think his head would still be where he maintained it was, if he did so.

"I'm going to slip my hand under your head and raise it enough so that you can safely swallow. Merly assures me that this potion will work wonders."

A hand snaked its way under his shoulder and then up under his head and very slowly helped him raise it so that the potion could be allowed to work its wonders on the pounding pagan ritual going on within it. The taste was slightly bitter. As it should be. He could trust Merly to use the right potion.

His head back down on the pillow, Snape sighed as the potion swiftly went to work and soon, he could bear the thought – though still only the thought – of unshutting his eyes.

"Oh, damn!" muttered on a breath, "My classes."

"Not to worry. Dumbledore's taking them. He told me to tell you that he ordered you to stay in bed for the day. Otherwise he'll inform Poppy and send her to look in on you."

"Ye gods!"

"Yes," – he could hear the smile in the voice – "he said that would be your reaction. So, you see, all you have to do is lie here and let the potion do its work."

Which, all things considered, was not a bad thing. Snape allowed himself to slip back into sleep.

The next time he woke, he was once more aware of a body near his on the bed.

"How's the head?"

There was no echoing effect in his head at the sound of the voice. "Perfectly fine," he grouched, happy to note that his grouching also did not affect him.

"Really? Prove it."

The voice was beginning to irritate him. "How do you expect me to do that?" He was also happy to note that growling was acceptable as well.

"Open your eyes."

He could hear the smile in that. Damn the man, what the hell was he doing here? Why wasn't he in the other room, doing...whatever it was he did all day when decent wizards were hard at work. He sighed. Opened his eyes. Made the point of looking over at the man who was on his side, head propped up on an elbow, grinning at him. Then thankful that he'd been successful, he shut his eyes again against the slight sensitivity the remaining twinge of headache gave him.

"What are you looking at, Black?" Snapping wasn't as successful as growling. He had to remember that.

"You."

Snape snorted and caught himself. Also not a good idea. Too many vibrations. "Why? Have I grown another head? Horns, maybe?"

He could feel Black's hand approach his head and he moved it slightly, indicating that he didn't want to be touched.

When Black spoke, his voice was close by his ear. Snape figured he was no longer propped up.

"This man who beat you, was he the one who told you you were ugly?"

Said in a conversational tone. Almost gently. Not like the bombshell that it was.

Bloody hell, what had he said last night? Had he somehow spoken about... Only Dumbledore had ever guessed...

Oh, damn!

"He was wrong, you know."

Snape shut his eyes tighter. "Black..."

"He was."

"My father..." And a cool finger crossed his lips.

"No. Not your father. The man may have sired you, Severus, but I doubt that he fathered you, so don't honour him with the name."

There was anger in the voice. Snape didn't know what surprised him most: that, or the attack on the man no one had ever chastised for his treatment of his son.

"He..." the finger disappeared and, ironically, he missed it, "was very beautiful."

"Like Gilderoy Lockhart?"

Snape decided not to say anything. The finger returned to his face, slowly skimming the length of his nose.

"It's the nose," the voice was pensive. "It's so dominant that it demands all the attention."

The finger slowly made its way back up the object of Black's consideration.

"It's a greedy thing. But if one looks carefully past it..." now the finger was softly caressing his closed eyelids, "the eyes are deserving of an ode or two."

Snape wondered if Merly had given him the wrong potion. Or maybe it was that Black had played around with some of the potions he kept in his quarters and concocted something which would explain why he was acting this way.

"Brown," the irritating voice continued. "Do you know that it took me several weeks to determine that your eyes are brown, not black. You hide them well, Severus, these windows to the soul. Warm, inviting brown. With a hint of yellow, like the colour of excellent cognac. Yes, I know. You don't drink. But I do like the occasional cognac and your eyes can have the same potency."

Black was definitely under some spell, thought Snape. He should move, should put an end to this, but...

"Your mouth is delicious."

Now the damn finger was stroking along his lips.

"You hold it in such disapproval all the time. I suppose that's why one doesn't notice how inviting it is."

And the finger was replaced by a mouth. A mouth which played with his until, without waiting for his permission or approval, his opened under the other.

Black tasted of warm wetness, then of the tea he must have recently drunk. Sweet.

But whether that was in reference to the tea or the mouth, Snape couldn't have said.

He waited until the mouth pulled back, allowed his tongue to pull in the last taste from his lips before speaking, harshly enough for the sound to threaten his still sensitive head. "Is this your idea of fun? A pity fuck for the poor abused git?"

He lay, his still blind face staring at the canopy, his hands fisted in the bedclothes they could grab.

"Pity? Dear Merlin!" There was that smile again! "Really, Severus, the last feeling you could ever engender is pity. Irritation, yes. Anger, again yes. The overwhelming urge to strangle you, bloody yes. But pity? As the children today say, get real, Sev!" Then the voice turned quiet. "Why? Is that what you feel about yourself? Pity?"

"No." And then because he really didn't know what else to say, "I don't believe I gave you the right to call me by my name, let alone a shortened form of it."

"Yes, you did. Last night. You called me Sirius and that, I believe, following the rules of formal wizard etiquette, gives me the right to return the favour."

Before he could snap back any retort, the damn finger was once more mapping his face.

"You know, once you see all the other features of your face, that nose isn't too bad after all. I take it to be the definitive Snape feature?"

Snape sighed. He really should find it in himself to rise, to get out of bed and to go check up on his classes. He seemed to remember someone saying that Dumbledore was taking them for the day. Merlin help him, what kind of mess was he going to find when he got there? He supposed... Could that damn finger not find something else to do? It was in his ear and... Oh, Merlin! That wasn't a finger, that was the tip of Black's tongue!

"Like that, do you? I thought I heard a hint of purr there, Severus. One of your soft spots, is that? I'll remember."

This time, Snape turned his head and opened his eyes. "Why?" he challenged, "Why bother to remember anything about me? Why this sudden interest in me?"

Black propped his head back up again on his fist, expression as serious as Snape had ever seen it.

"Are you trying to indicate that you have suddenly fallen in...in lust with me, Black?" Snape's voice was as cuttingly sarcastic as he could make it. It was the only way he could hold back the need to beg Black to continue his explorations. "Me? The ugly git who followed the infamous Marauders around, providing them with such fun? Going to have a bit more fun with me? Do you expect me to make you laugh?

"If...when we do make love," said Black quietly, "I have to seriously consider the possibility that you may be the one laughing."

"I? The one laughing?"

"Well, for Merlin's sake, Severus," Black fidgeted, suddenly nervous, "there are worrying aspects about all this."

"You? Worried?" Snape was pleased to hear his sneer was back.

"Yes. I will be making love to you, but just whom will you be making love to? The boy you fell in love with when you were sixteen...

"Eleven."

"What?" Black was confused by the interruption.

"Eleven. I was eleven when I fell in love with you." Snape was surprised to hear how calm his voice was.

"Oh." Black, stunned by the revelation, could only nod slightly. "It's been a long time then."

Snape said nothing.

"And that makes it even worse. The boy you fell in love with at eleven, or the arrogant youth who nearly got you killed at sixteen. You have this image of me, whichever one it is, that is not me. Neither boy exists, Severus. Not any more. There is me, the man, who has learnt to live," here Black's voice grew bitter, "with the fact that his arrogance was responsible for the death of his best friends, who bears the responsibility for the death of a dozen Muggles, who fought to maintain his sanity over twelve years in Azkaban." He took a breath, controlling his anger at himself. "Meanwhile, you've had lovers...haven't you?"

Snape nodded.

"And you have something to compare me against. And so, what if I come up short? What if it turns out my touch leaves you cold? Or you don't like my technique? Or you find that I stink at giving you a decent blow-job. I haven't had a real lover since before Azkaban, Severus, and you may end up being the one laughing his head off on this bed before we're through.

"As for falling in love or, as you so delicately put it, in lust with you, well, I would like to find out. I have had sex since leaving Azkaban, so I'm not doing this out of desperate sexual need. And I will admit to jacking off in the shower. But I would like to know what it would be like, touching you and having you touch me. I've discovered that I like you, Severus, something that I never allowed myself to discover before this uninvited visit of mine. And I would like to see if that like can become something deeper."

Snape had turned slightly towards Black as he had spoken and now he reached out with a finger tip to stroke his mouth quiet.

After a small exploration of that mouth, he cocked his head. "So, if I understand you correctly, you're saying that you're not that good at blow-jobs?"

And Black smiled. "Let's find out, shall we?"

They went slowly, hesitantly. Each, for different reasons, was worried about putting a hand wrong: Snape, because he had dreamt of this for so long; Black, because he really wondered if he would be equal to the image Snape had created.

Black was the more aggressive. Well, he reasoned, someone had to be: Snape seemed to be content just tracing his face. It took some co-operation from Snape before the covers were thrown back and hands were freer to roam new territory.

Black pulled off his nightshirt first, tossing it to the floor. Now having some understanding of the importance of self-protection to the man he was exploring, he decided to wait until Snape was writhing under his touch before he undid the ties and got rid of the cloth that came between the two of them.

Black almost laughed when he realized that even in the state of arousal, Snape's sounds were more like angry grunts and growls than sensuous sighs and purrs. Severus, it would seem, was no more accommodating in sex than he was in life. Black purred as he rubbed his face against a demanding erection.

"How nice," he raised himself up on his hands to grin at his lover, "that the Muggles' cliché about the size of noses and other appendages has a modicum of truth to it after all."

"Will you just fuck me!" growled Snape. "All this unnecessary talk...OH!"

Black was pleased to see that he could still produce a decent blow-job. >From which he pulled back when Snape's growls and grunts had begun to grow indistinguishable.

"Wha..." Snape panted, "Why...why have you stopped?"

Black lay over the body of man glaring at him. "Who am I, Severus?"

"Who?" Snape shook his head, trying to get his brain to work properly.

"Yes, who am I? Are you making love to the image or to the man?"

Fighting to catch his breath, Snape slowly brought his hands up Black's body, from hips, up rib cage, along shoulders, to either side of the face staring down at him, waiting for his answer. Here, he thought, I could get my revenge. I could hurt him probably as much as his mockery hurt me.

"The man, Sirius. To the man."

Black grinned happily and Snape found the sight so arousing that he grinned back.

Black's grin shifted and moved into the lecherous. "Well, then, let's fuck!"

Black reached over, purposefully grinding his groin against Snape's as he reached for the jar of ointment that he had placed on the top of the night table.

"Prepared?" Snape's tone was dry but the bite was not there.

"Hoping," responded Black. "Who first?"

Snape took the jar out of Black's hands and took a decent dollop out in his hand. With a leer that was equal to any that Black had ever seen, he slipped his hand down between their bodies and greased Black's cock. Black helped himself and sitting back on his heels, set about preparing Snape for penetration.

By the time Black slipped into Snape's body, Snape had been cursing him for some time. "Your repertoire simply astonishes me, Sev," Black panted, his hands once more teasing Snape.

Snape crossed his legs behind Black and pulled him in as best he could. "Shut up!"

Later, Black wondered if he was going to be given detention for failing to obey. All tangled together, he decided – with a snicker – that if Snape did so, in all fairness, he would have to assign himself one as well.

Black lay content, his head pillowed on Snape's chest as his hand stroked up and down Snape's long flank. Now and then he turned his face to lick at the drying sweat on his lover's body, savouring the mélange of salt, musk and a flavour that he would always recognize as being Snape's own.

Snape was lying, eyes staring at the canopy, hand resting on Black's shoulder, wondering at the events of the day.

"How's the head now?" Black raised his head, chin propped on sternum.

Snape had to think about it. "Fine."

"No lingering twinges?"

Snape's eyebrow rose as high as it could. "Considering what we've been doing, I am surprised to find I have it still on my shoulders."

Black grinned. "I must be doing it all wrong, then. If it's still there." His hand skimmed its way back up to Snape's shoulder.

"There is nothing wrong with the way you do things. But I am beginning to think that besides being insatiable, you have a overly confident opinion of your talents. That third time was a definite venture into the realm of Improbability. Any more ventures into the Impossible."

Black smiled. "Well, there is later."

Snape groaned but didn't move in any way to indicate that he wasn't willing. Black rested his head once more and let his hand explore the arm that lay away from him. The one with the faint Dark Mark on it.

Snape waited silently, watching the hand that had had him writhing in a most un-Snape-ish way skim back and forth over the mark.

"I would like to ask you a question," said Black, " and if you don't want to answer, I'll understand. I won't press."

Snape had been expecting this to occur at some point. "If it's about the mark, go ahead. I won't bite your head off."

Black looked up. "Why?"

Snape reached behind him for some pillows and dragged them under his head. Black raised his body enough so that Snape could get comfortable and then propped his chin on Snape's shoulder, eyes watchful.

"Why? Because they wanted me."

Black closed his eyes, "Bloody hell! Another thing I bear responsibility for."

"Stop the dramatics," Snape carded his hand through Black's hair, gripped and then hauled his head up so that they were eye to eye. "I am an adult. I made my choices and I accept the consequences. I am not saying that what happened in the tunnel that night long ago did not have any influence on my decision, but there were other factors that, to me at the time, were of far more importance. Looking back now, I realize that my reaction to some of those factors was childish and naive, but they were my reactions and do allow me the right to wallow in my realization of them by myself. "

Black looked at his lover with no expression on his face, then he calmly raised an eyebrow. "I believe I have mentioned that you often elicit the overwhelming desire to strangle you."

"Having you in my bed is not going to change me, Sirius. I am a thirty-seven year old wizard of the male genus. I know what I am. A curmudgeon, a man of petty spites. Swallowing your come is not going to turn me into a sweet tempered, magnanimous, student-adoring Gryffindor. Of course, you will have the desire to strangle me. Probably frequently. The question is, can you live with that?"

"As long as you realize that I often wallow in my own realizations of the consequences of my choices."

"And then there's the fact that you shed."

Black accepted the change in topic. They were still too new to dive into weighty matters of conscience. He grinned. "Yes, I do. Twice a year. Merly has been kindly grooming me. Do you mind?"

The sarcasm was back. "So long as you don't expect me to walk you nightly."

There was a timid knock on the door of their bedchamber.

"Yes?" Snape pulled back from the kiss Black was intent on forcing upon him. It missed his mouth, but Black's tongue seemed quite content with his ear.

"Master. Professor Dumbledore wishes to see Master and Sir. He asks if eight o'clock is convenient."

Snape sighed loudly. Dumbledore's visits to his quarters usually concerned business, Dark Lord business. "Yes, Merly," he raised his voice so that it could be heard through the door, "offer the Professor an invitation to tea." Damn that tongue! It was making it hard to think. "That way, he'll have an excuse for this excursion from his tower to the depths of the Hogwarts dungeons."

"Master?" Merly's voice was hesitant. "It is near seven. Shall Merly bring supper to you and Sir?"

"Oh, damn! It can't be!" Snape pulled out of Black's reach, rolled out of the bed and went to his wardrobe.

With a sad shake of his head, Black slipped out of bed, opened the door of the bedchamber to grin at the House Elf who grinned back. "Another good idea, Merly. We leave the choice of meal to you."

"Black! Put some clothes on, for Merlin's sake." Snape had pulled on pants and was dragging a shirt off a shelf.

Black planted his naked body against Snape's, pushing him against the wardrobe door and the shirt to one side. "You have this puritan aspect to your personality, Sev, that I do fully intend to cure. You have a beautiful body and you really should not be in such a hurry to cover it up." With a teasing look, Black dropped his mouth to the nearer nipple, made a loud sucking noise but then, with an innocent smile, he stepped back and allowed a resigned-looking Snape to finish dressing. When he reached for his many-buttoned jacket, Black pulled it out of his hands. "No. There is a limit to this. You are in your own quarters and you have the full right to relax in them. Dumbledore is the interloper here, not you. Here," Black reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a dressing gown, black of course. "If you must, then put this on."

"And why should I acquiesce to this?"

Grinning lecherously, Black rubbed himself against Snape. "Much easier to take off when Albus leaves. You will have had time to recover your forces by then, what with supper and a fortifying cup of tea."

Snape glared but, after a moment, slipped on the dressing gown. Black once more practiced his innocent smile as he pulled on pants and a sweater.

Dumbledore's double take on seeing them sitting side by side on the couch, a small table with the debris of a meal in front of them, was well worth the interruption to their activities.

That and the slow blush when the Headmaster realized that the men were now lovers.

"Oh, dear. I do seem to have invited myself at an inopportune time."

"Any time you invite yourself to my quarters is usually inopportune, Albus." Snape leaned back, suddenly realizing that, for once, he was at ease with Dumbledore's presence here in his rooms. Usually he felt as though he were once more a student, being called into the Headmaster's presence for some "talk". "Do make yourself comfortable, Albus," Black gestured to the chair that Merly had pushed up to him. With a rueful smile, Dumbledore did just that. Black smiled and purposefully leaned back, resting his head against Snape's shoulder. He felt Snape's first reaction: that of stiffness at this public claiming, but then slowly, the tension dispersed.

In spite of his arrogance and self-centred-ness, Black's was an affectionate nature. Snape was just going to have to learn to accept public displays of his affection for him. After all, it was a fair trade: Snape had indicated he would not be changing his nature for Black; no reason for Black to change his.

Black angled his head so that he could see Snape's face. Well, the man seemed to have come to the same realization. His lips were pressed tightly together, but he wasn't pulling away.

Black smiled openly at Dumbledore, and settled to hear the reason for the visit.

The news from Dumbledore's spy network was not good. There were things happening in certain areas that required more information, the kind of information that someone trustworthy, capable of transfiguring into an innocuous personage, would be able to ferret out.

The tension was back in Snape's body and Black's as well.

"When?" Snape's voice was even drier than normal.

"I'm not very certain. All will depend on some information that I am expecting any time now. Once I have it, Sirius, I would need you to be ready to move on it almost immediately." He placed his cup down and smiled apologetically at the two men. Of all times for Voldemort to be making overt moves! If only Snape had not been so... Dumbledore sighed. So Snape. They could have had so much more time....

He stood up. "Severus, I have checked in on the Jeffries boy. May I compliment you on your choice of House Elves to care for the lad. Dobby was quite reticent to allow even me into the room and Winky stayed very close by to make certain that I was not a threat to her chick."

"What about the father?" Snape stood.

"I've sent an owl to Sylvester Jeffries, indicating that I feel that some personalized intensive study would prove beneficial to boy. Unfortunately, it would also have to be uninterrupted which will necessitate the boy's spending all holidays here at Hogwarts."

"Will he agree to that?"

The Headmaster raised an ironic eyebrow. "I received an owl response just prior to coming down here. The gist of which is that he is delighted to concur with that plan."

"And that's it?" Black was stunned. "No one is going to hold him to account for what he's done to that child?"

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a look.

"No," said Dumbledore, "there is really nothing anyone can do. By wizard law, until sixteen a child is the possession of its parents. We are fortunate that extreme parents such as Jeffries are not a common case among wizards. We reproduce so sparingly on the whole that a child is considered to be a precious possession."

"But what if Jeffries changes his mind and wants the boy back?" Black was livid at the thought.

"Then," said Snape, voice emotionless, "we send him back."

"Not without having tried to change the parent's demand," interjected Dumbledore, hand reaching for Snape, who took a step back. "But sometimes we are not successful and we must obey the law."

"Damn the law!" Black was enraged. He'd understood the silent drama played in front of him. He placed himself next to his lover. "If Jeffries tries, he'll have to come through us to get the boy."

Dumbledore looked at the united front before him. These two would make a solid team, he thought, against any and all enemies. Snape would restrain Black's more spontaneous gestures and force him to spend some thought on his actions while Black would give Snape a focus other than the need to prove himself worthy of Dumbledore's intercession on his behalf when he'd left the Death Eaters.

"And through me," Dumbledore said firmly. "I have learnt a few things about the law since I first had to face this situation. Thomas Jeffries will remain safely here at Hogwarts until his majority and even after, if so needed. Now then, I shall take my leave of you." At the door, he looked over his shoulder. "I don't expect we shall be seeing you at any meal or event this weekend, Severus."

"I have study hall tomorrow."

Dumbledore waved his hand. "I'm certain that Nearly Headless Nick will be delighted to take that for you, seeing how you are still not fully recovered from your sudden illness, my boy."

"The old reprobate," muttered Black darkly , still fuming.

Snape turned to his partner. If he hadn't been so shamed by the situation he'd endure as a child, so certain that he'd deserved it, if he had confided in the boy that had been Sirius Black, would all this anger have been on his side back then?

He pulled the man into his arms. He wanted to thank him for his support but he was not certain the words would leave his throat, so he kissed him instead, trying to put all he felt into the gesture. It seemed to work. When he finally released Black's mouth, Sirius looked at him, dazed for a breath or two, then slowly smiled, a smile that chased the dark emotions away. "You're welcome."

Monday morning arrived and, with it, responsibility.

Snape reluctantly left the bed from which Black was watching him, dressed in his usual clothes, slowly doing up his many-buttoned jacket, wondering how long it would take Black to unbutton it that evening when his classes and duties were over.

"Try not to frighten them more than you have to," smiled Black.

Snape shook his head, drawing on his robe over his jacket. "I shudder to think what Albus had them doing. And at the condition of my classroom."

Naked, Black slipped out of bed and took over the settling of the robe. He brushed off some imaginary lint – Merly would never allow any real matter to pollute Master's robes after they had been cleaned and returned to his wardrobe.

"Have you any intention of putting on any kind of clothing today, Sirius?" Snape's dry tone only elicited a smile. The most Black had worn since Dumbledore's visit was Snape's dressing gown, and that only at Snape's insistence. The most he had permitted Snape to wear were pants and shirt. Snape could not remember a last time he had spent so much time in what, for him, was "déshabillé".

"Suppose so," Black tried to look mournful, which was hard with the grin he was wearing. "No real reason to hope that you might find your way down, say between classes, for a quick shag? No, I thought not." He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Snape's cheek. "Consider that a promise of what's to come tonight."

So Snape did, in fact, begin the day with a feeling of warmth in his stomach that began evaporating when his first class walked in, to the accompaniment of moans and groans once they realized that he was waiting for them.

"Too good to be true," someone muttered.

By the time Neville Longbottom literally blew up his experiment and the room filled with the stench of burnt newt livers, the glow was completely gone and Snape found himself once more wondering – aloud – just what he was doing here, surrounded by the greatest collection of incompetents it had ever had ever been his misfortune to teach! And when he thought – silently, in his own mind – of what he could be doing to Black, of what Black could be doing to him... Well, detentions abounded. Including one to Potter, who had muttered to Weasley loudly enough for Snape to hear, "He needs to get shagged!"

The day grew from worse to devastating when Dumbledore arrived late for supper. As he walked along the table to his place, he stopped at Snape's long enough to whisper, "I'm sorry."

Snape's hand grabbed the wizard's arm before he could leave. "When?"

"By midnight."

Snape somehow got through the meal, and saw to it that his Slytherins made it safely back to their House before he found his own quarters.

Black was waiting for him, dressed properly in his robe.

"Severus. And here I had such plans for us."

Snape stayed by the door, resisting the urge to complain. They both knew that actual priorities left little time for personal plans. War was coming, and their wishes and desires meant little in relation to that.

"Next time," shrugged Snape.

Black took a step forward but was stopped by Snape's raised hand. There was a knock on the door.

"Who the hell..." Black was not happy with the interruption. "If that's bloody Dumbledore with yet more instructions...."

Snape turned and opened the door, blocking Black's view.

The youth who was showing up for detention was less than happy. His green eyes glared as much as they dared at the man he so hated.

Snape stared silently at the boy and then, with a gesture, invited him into the room.

Potter hesitated. It was a well known fact that no one, not even Slytherins, had ever seen the inside of Professor Snape's quarters. He held meetings and detention in his office.

Snape stepped aside so that Black could see who...

"Harry?"

"Sirius!"

And Snape stayed only long enough to see Potter rush into Black's open arms.

He stood outside the closed door, in the passageway, until it dawned on him that if anyone saw him standing at his own doors, there would be questions to answer. He forced himself to walk slowly to his office. There, he spelled a fire in the fireplace, a large one since he seemed to be so cold, and sat at his desk until his brain ordered a hand to reach for a seventh year scroll and he began correcting.

At some point, Merly showed up with a pot of tea, as he usually did whenever he was correcting, and Snape thanked him for it, as he normally did. He was surprised, when he went to pour himself a cup, to find a plate of macaroons. He was not a great liker of sweets but, now and then, he would ask Merly to provide him with some. He didn't remember asking, he thought, picking one of them up and examining it as though it were some curiosity he had never before seen. It should have been sweet, but tonight, it tasted of nothing.

When he finally finished the last scroll, it was past eleven. He put the room to rights, unspelled the fire. He walked slowly back to his rooms, ignoring Filch as he and Mrs. Norris made their rounds.

He hesitated in front of his own door, wrapped his robe tightly around himself, and then quietly opened the door.

Black and Potter were in front of the fire. Black was lying, propped up on an elbow while Potter, sitting cross-legged, was demonstrating some Quidditch move he had used in some game. Both froze at his entrance.

"I'm afraid," Snape was surprised to find his voice so steady, "that it's time for you both to go."

Potter and Black stood up. Black hugged Potter close to him. "You remember what I told you. Be careful, and try to behave yourself."

Snape couldn't hear Potter's reply as it was muffled against Black's shoulder.

As Potter approached him, Snape found himself stepping aside, as though he didn't want to be touched, even accidentally. Potter stopped, looked up at him. "Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded. "For detention, I had you dust all my books. And a boring lot they were." He waved his wand, and Potter's robe looked as though he had indeed spent the evening dusting. He even sneezed as he left the room.

Snape shut the door and took a breath to deal with Black.

He expelled it rather forcibly when his back hit the wall, Black plastered against him.

Black's hands framed his face and he stared at it as though memorizing it. When he spoke, his voice trembled with emotion. "Your generosity overwhelms me, Severus Snape."

Snape went to deny it, but Black's mouth was on his and he had other things to think about.

They held each other, not saying a word, savouring the moments they had left.

Snape finally pushed Black back so that he could see his face. "There is something I must say to you before you leave."

Black cocked his head and waited.

"These past few days have been...memorable...but I appreciate that...proximity..."

Black's face grew angry. "What the bloody hell are you trying to tell me, Snape?"

"I am trying to tell you that I am aware that I do not expect this to be more than a ...a brief encounter."

Black was ready to snap something back when he looked into Snape's eyes. Brown, not black; braced for pain. And then he understood.

He leaned in very carefully, his mouth next to Snape's ear. "If you screw around on me, I shall be very displeased," he enunciated carefully. "And considering the things I learnt while in Azkaban, believe me, you do not want to displease me."

Snape closed his eyes and then, after a painfully long time, to Black's mind, he nodded. "Understood," he whispered. He opened his eyes and Black saw his lover. "And do you get to...ah, screw around on me?"

"I never settle for second best, not when I have the best."

Snape reached up a hand and caressed Black's cheek. "You have to go."

"Yes. But I will be back." His kiss held the promise.

When they broke apart, Black passed his finger over Snape's nose. "Try not to terrorize Harry more than he already is, will you?"

Snape's eyebrow rose high as he scoffed, "Terrorize? That boy does not have the sense of terror needed to keep him out of trouble."

Black grinned. "That's why he needs you. My love." And then the door shut itself behind a large shaggy dog.

And the warm glow settled in a corner of Snape's heart.

Parts Five and Six

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