With Loki tucked safely into a pocket made specially for the little raven just inside his travelling cloak, he slips out of this new happy home. He is content with the knowledge that he has them both together, and they're both safe; worrying about Elsbet was stressful enough, but Malfoy at the 'mercy' of the Dark Lord was just too much. It's a cool night here, and the air is filled with the soft chirruping of crickets. Nice night for a walk. He makes his way to the Park District, his thoughts racing. He makes no effort to slow them, to bring his heart and mind back into line and under his tight control; this truly is his Sanctuary, where he can afford to be less restrained. If he didn't have it, he'd snap, and that snap would have catastrophic results.
Formost in his mind at the moment is the knowledge that if Malfoy had suffered the aortic dissection and heart attack while there at the manor, he would have died, and he doesn't know what he would have done. Somewhere deep, deep down inside himself, it seems he'd been waiting years to hear those three little words from Malfoy, he'd just never imagined they would be wrapped up in all of this. He wonders if Malfoy truly would have killed Elsbet that night, but then, he doesn't really need to know. What matters now is that Malfoy loves her and will protect her, and that if something happens to him, she won't be left alone to suffer.
He finds the house he's looking for without difficulty, though he's not pleased when he sees it.
So few people realize that even structures can grieve. Robbed of its potential, never to be utilized for its intended purpose, it's left to crumble and rot, forgotten. Or...left to be a reminder of the one of the most horrible crimes possible. Oh, he understands why Lily's ruined home has been left standing. For some, it is a War Memorial, a reminder that the Dark Lord's power was not absolute, and it gives people a place to cheer on the one hope they have for freedom. But for him...it is a reminder of the greatest failure of his life, and the place where a bit of his soul died.
He's been back to see it since that awful night. He went back to it after the events on the lightning-struck tower, when he fulfilled Dumbledore's dying wish...after he left the Black House, he went back there. These are the thoughts he struggles now to keep at bay; the old hatreds, the old bitterness, the old blame...blame on Dumbledore for trusting a simple charm to keep their house safe and that half-wit Potter to keep his fucking mouth shut; blame on that rat-shit bastard Pettigrew for betraying them, blame on James Potter for failing to protect his wife like he was supposed to, and blame on himself for...for...he can't. He can't finish the thought. He won't. Now he fights to push it all back down into the little pit it dwells in--it doesn't belong here.
He wants to rage, he wants to scream his pain into the night, he wants to lash out and kill Pettigrew, rip his rotten, betraying tongue out. He wants to run back to the new happy home and climb back into that bed, between his lovers, he wants to fuck the hell out of them and make sweet love to them, he wants to sleep for days with them, safe in that warm little nook. He wants the eternity of Three that Malfoy spoke of. He seems placid and calm on the outside as he stands here before the sad little place, no one looking at him would know what terrible storm boils inside of him. No one, that is, but the man watching him from down the lane. He doesn't realize he's not alone, but it doesn't matter...no one in this city would think badly of this.
The night he went back to Lily's ruined house and read the letters to Harry that were scribbled, carved and magicked into the sign meant only for Magicals' eyes, he thought of Elsbet, and vowed he would not fail like that again. He thinks of Elsbet as he stands here, looking at this poor little house. It's shrinking, Snape thinks, the spark of magic inside it is dying. It should have been a safe-haven for another suffering heart, but instead it is a memorial to another life snuffed out by Evil. The White City doesn't need anything like this. Not like this. Empty, dark and sad. For five plots in any direct line near the starter house, north, south, east and west, there is nothing. No grass grows in the empty plots, there are no trees, no crickets sing here. It is like the whole area is slowly dying.
Yes, structures suffer, just like people do.
Snape breathes deeply and masters the winds whipping within until his inner rage begins to resemble his outer calm. There are still waves breaking on the stonier parts inside himself, but he'll let those be. Eventually, they'll die away. Eventually, he'll be able to deal with them. It is now he realizes he is not alone. The man approaches him slowly, deep in his own thoughts, and he's really not surprised to see him out. "Well, well, Lupin...out for a walk in the moonlight?" Snape says quietly, without malice or spite, and Remus laughs just as quietly. "Yes," he says, "it's a beautiful night for one, and I couldn't sleep. Couldn't quiet my thoughts. Am I disturbing you?" Snape tells him no, that he just needed to think a while.
"It shouldn't have been this way," Remus says after a long silence, "he should have taken Therion's offer." Snape snorts softly and tells him, "but we both know he wouldn't have stayed, just as you told Therion tonight." Remus nods and thrusts his hands into his pockets. "I know, he couldn't stay out of the fray. But at least he could have been happy for a little while." Snape looks at the shrunken house. "That's why he didn't remain here." Remus looks at him for a moment, then rocks back on his feet, smiling. "You're right, of course. He would have felt like he was hiding, hiding while innocent people were dying. And I think he was afraid that Ellie would suffer because of him."
Snape gives a slight nod. "Therion said as much after you and Tonks left." There is another long silence between them. Remus looks up at the star-filled sky and says, "Severus, I...I know that you hated him, but--" Snape shakes his head, eyes tightly shut, brows furrowed. The last thing the werewolf wants is to jeapordize this alliance they have, but there are things he feels he needs to tell the other wizard. "I don't hate him." Remus looks at him for a long time. "How can I now? Now that I know--" he shakes his head again and Remus asks, "now that you know Ellie loved him?" Snape neither says or does anything for a second or two, then his shoulders sag.
"No," he says softly, his voice seemingly not his, "now that I know he loved her." He shrugs and looks at Remus, his eyes unusually bright. "You saw what I did...and you said it yourself. He loved her. There is no doubt in my mind that if he had not been Padfoot at the time, Wynter would have been dead." Remus smiles slightly. "I was thinking exactly the same. And the others he protected her from...I knew there was someone on his mind when we were living at Grimmauld Place, but he wouldn't say much. He was always writing though..." There is so much Snape wants to say, so much he wants to ask, but he says only, "as much as he hated me, he made no attept to...to warn her away from me."
Remus looks at Snape and takes a step toward him, then places a hand gently on his shoulder. "He had no reason to." He pats Snape's shoulder and walks passed him to the adjacent plot behind them. Snape is feeling vulnerable and open right now and he knows he will never have another chance to tell the man any of this. He takes a very deep breath and says, "Severus, Sirius wasn't proud of what he and James did when we were in school. And you will never know how badly I felt for not being strong enough to stop them."
Snape says nothing for several moments; it takes that long for Remus' words to sink in. "He told you this?" There is doubt in Snape's voice, and Remus can hardly blame him. "He told Harry." Snape turns quickly, his heart jumping. "When?" Remus sighs. "Just shortly before he died." He gives Snape a meaningful look, and Snape remembers the affair with Umbridge, when the stupid pink toad wanted to torture Harry...then it must have been...Snape's head drops for a second and he knows when it had to have been, and how. After Harry looked into his pensieve...Remus suspects Snape has it and tells him, "Harry confronted Sirius about what he saw, and Sirius showed remorse for it." He frowns slightly, then wincing, he adds, "he just didn't have it in him to tell you."
Remus knows it's time to leave the man with his thoughts, so he tells Snape he knows he must be on his way back to the school, and he's kept him long enough. But as Remus touches him gently in passing Snape turns slightly in his departing direction and asks him, "did Sirius know how I felt about her?" Remus smiles softly. "No, Severus, he didn't. He was far too busy being an ignorant berk, his words, by the way, to notice you and Lily. And he was far too interested in me." Snape looks at Remus and gives the slightest nod. "I wondered about that..." he whispers, and Remus smiles again. "I kept putting him off though. He was persistant, and I was resistant. He was far too reckless, and I was far too dangerous. But after he escaped Azkaban," he shrugs, "we were both dangerous."
He looks up at the moon and draws a long breath. "I did love him though, all those years." And now Snape understands. "That's precisely why you weren't surprised about Lucius and I." Remus nods and smiles. "Precisely." The werewolf turns to go then, but tells Snape one last thing. "I'm very happy for you, Severus. Ellie and Lucius are very lucky, I think." He departs then, leaving Snape standing outside the house that should have belonged to Sirius Black, bathed in moonshine, and feeling unbearably light. He feels little Loki stir in his pocket and knows he has to go. He turns back to the poor house and walks up the steps. As he does, he calls up out of thin air a single white lily and places it before the door.
He pauses a moment, urges Loki to wake and take wing, then makes a running shift to his raven form and the two of them fly home.
Formost in his mind at the moment is the knowledge that if Malfoy had suffered the aortic dissection and heart attack while there at the manor, he would have died, and he doesn't know what he would have done. Somewhere deep, deep down inside himself, it seems he'd been waiting years to hear those three little words from Malfoy, he'd just never imagined they would be wrapped up in all of this. He wonders if Malfoy truly would have killed Elsbet that night, but then, he doesn't really need to know. What matters now is that Malfoy loves her and will protect her, and that if something happens to him, she won't be left alone to suffer.
He finds the house he's looking for without difficulty, though he's not pleased when he sees it.
So few people realize that even structures can grieve. Robbed of its potential, never to be utilized for its intended purpose, it's left to crumble and rot, forgotten. Or...left to be a reminder of the one of the most horrible crimes possible. Oh, he understands why Lily's ruined home has been left standing. For some, it is a War Memorial, a reminder that the Dark Lord's power was not absolute, and it gives people a place to cheer on the one hope they have for freedom. But for him...it is a reminder of the greatest failure of his life, and the place where a bit of his soul died.
He's been back to see it since that awful night. He went back to it after the events on the lightning-struck tower, when he fulfilled Dumbledore's dying wish...after he left the Black House, he went back there. These are the thoughts he struggles now to keep at bay; the old hatreds, the old bitterness, the old blame...blame on Dumbledore for trusting a simple charm to keep their house safe and that half-wit Potter to keep his fucking mouth shut; blame on that rat-shit bastard Pettigrew for betraying them, blame on James Potter for failing to protect his wife like he was supposed to, and blame on himself for...for...he can't. He can't finish the thought. He won't. Now he fights to push it all back down into the little pit it dwells in--it doesn't belong here.
He wants to rage, he wants to scream his pain into the night, he wants to lash out and kill Pettigrew, rip his rotten, betraying tongue out. He wants to run back to the new happy home and climb back into that bed, between his lovers, he wants to fuck the hell out of them and make sweet love to them, he wants to sleep for days with them, safe in that warm little nook. He wants the eternity of Three that Malfoy spoke of. He seems placid and calm on the outside as he stands here before the sad little place, no one looking at him would know what terrible storm boils inside of him. No one, that is, but the man watching him from down the lane. He doesn't realize he's not alone, but it doesn't matter...no one in this city would think badly of this.
The night he went back to Lily's ruined house and read the letters to Harry that were scribbled, carved and magicked into the sign meant only for Magicals' eyes, he thought of Elsbet, and vowed he would not fail like that again. He thinks of Elsbet as he stands here, looking at this poor little house. It's shrinking, Snape thinks, the spark of magic inside it is dying. It should have been a safe-haven for another suffering heart, but instead it is a memorial to another life snuffed out by Evil. The White City doesn't need anything like this. Not like this. Empty, dark and sad. For five plots in any direct line near the starter house, north, south, east and west, there is nothing. No grass grows in the empty plots, there are no trees, no crickets sing here. It is like the whole area is slowly dying.
Yes, structures suffer, just like people do.
Snape breathes deeply and masters the winds whipping within until his inner rage begins to resemble his outer calm. There are still waves breaking on the stonier parts inside himself, but he'll let those be. Eventually, they'll die away. Eventually, he'll be able to deal with them. It is now he realizes he is not alone. The man approaches him slowly, deep in his own thoughts, and he's really not surprised to see him out. "Well, well, Lupin...out for a walk in the moonlight?" Snape says quietly, without malice or spite, and Remus laughs just as quietly. "Yes," he says, "it's a beautiful night for one, and I couldn't sleep. Couldn't quiet my thoughts. Am I disturbing you?" Snape tells him no, that he just needed to think a while.
"It shouldn't have been this way," Remus says after a long silence, "he should have taken Therion's offer." Snape snorts softly and tells him, "but we both know he wouldn't have stayed, just as you told Therion tonight." Remus nods and thrusts his hands into his pockets. "I know, he couldn't stay out of the fray. But at least he could have been happy for a little while." Snape looks at the shrunken house. "That's why he didn't remain here." Remus looks at him for a moment, then rocks back on his feet, smiling. "You're right, of course. He would have felt like he was hiding, hiding while innocent people were dying. And I think he was afraid that Ellie would suffer because of him."
Snape gives a slight nod. "Therion said as much after you and Tonks left." There is another long silence between them. Remus looks up at the star-filled sky and says, "Severus, I...I know that you hated him, but--" Snape shakes his head, eyes tightly shut, brows furrowed. The last thing the werewolf wants is to jeapordize this alliance they have, but there are things he feels he needs to tell the other wizard. "I don't hate him." Remus looks at him for a long time. "How can I now? Now that I know--" he shakes his head again and Remus asks, "now that you know Ellie loved him?" Snape neither says or does anything for a second or two, then his shoulders sag.
"No," he says softly, his voice seemingly not his, "now that I know he loved her." He shrugs and looks at Remus, his eyes unusually bright. "You saw what I did...and you said it yourself. He loved her. There is no doubt in my mind that if he had not been Padfoot at the time, Wynter would have been dead." Remus smiles slightly. "I was thinking exactly the same. And the others he protected her from...I knew there was someone on his mind when we were living at Grimmauld Place, but he wouldn't say much. He was always writing though..." There is so much Snape wants to say, so much he wants to ask, but he says only, "as much as he hated me, he made no attept to...to warn her away from me."
Remus looks at Snape and takes a step toward him, then places a hand gently on his shoulder. "He had no reason to." He pats Snape's shoulder and walks passed him to the adjacent plot behind them. Snape is feeling vulnerable and open right now and he knows he will never have another chance to tell the man any of this. He takes a very deep breath and says, "Severus, Sirius wasn't proud of what he and James did when we were in school. And you will never know how badly I felt for not being strong enough to stop them."
Snape says nothing for several moments; it takes that long for Remus' words to sink in. "He told you this?" There is doubt in Snape's voice, and Remus can hardly blame him. "He told Harry." Snape turns quickly, his heart jumping. "When?" Remus sighs. "Just shortly before he died." He gives Snape a meaningful look, and Snape remembers the affair with Umbridge, when the stupid pink toad wanted to torture Harry...then it must have been...Snape's head drops for a second and he knows when it had to have been, and how. After Harry looked into his pensieve...Remus suspects Snape has it and tells him, "Harry confronted Sirius about what he saw, and Sirius showed remorse for it." He frowns slightly, then wincing, he adds, "he just didn't have it in him to tell you."
Remus knows it's time to leave the man with his thoughts, so he tells Snape he knows he must be on his way back to the school, and he's kept him long enough. But as Remus touches him gently in passing Snape turns slightly in his departing direction and asks him, "did Sirius know how I felt about her?" Remus smiles softly. "No, Severus, he didn't. He was far too busy being an ignorant berk, his words, by the way, to notice you and Lily. And he was far too interested in me." Snape looks at Remus and gives the slightest nod. "I wondered about that..." he whispers, and Remus smiles again. "I kept putting him off though. He was persistant, and I was resistant. He was far too reckless, and I was far too dangerous. But after he escaped Azkaban," he shrugs, "we were both dangerous."
He looks up at the moon and draws a long breath. "I did love him though, all those years." And now Snape understands. "That's precisely why you weren't surprised about Lucius and I." Remus nods and smiles. "Precisely." The werewolf turns to go then, but tells Snape one last thing. "I'm very happy for you, Severus. Ellie and Lucius are very lucky, I think." He departs then, leaving Snape standing outside the house that should have belonged to Sirius Black, bathed in moonshine, and feeling unbearably light. He feels little Loki stir in his pocket and knows he has to go. He turns back to the poor house and walks up the steps. As he does, he calls up out of thin air a single white lily and places it before the door.
He pauses a moment, urges Loki to wake and take wing, then makes a running shift to his raven form and the two of them fly home.