[OPEN] All the angels on the wires || Gettin' dizzy from the heights...
WHO: Srs and YOU!
WHERE: ALL OVER THE PLACE
WHEN: All week long
WARNINGS: ...Sirius?
SUMMARY: Sirius flies around the city. Sort of.
FORMAT: ANY
( Go carefully, carefully || oh airstream driver... )
WHERE: ALL OVER THE PLACE
WHEN: All week long
WARNINGS: ...Sirius?
SUMMARY: Sirius flies around the city. Sort of.
FORMAT: ANY
( Go carefully, carefully || oh airstream driver... )
He didn't think twice; he charmed the window out of his way, and leapt out of it. (Yes, he'd been spending too much time with Gryiffindors, why did you ask?) Now was definitely going to be a test of strength-- but he wasn't about to let Sirius Black splatter himself across the MAC or any other building.
He'd get blamed somehow in the process of the idiot killing himself -- even if he was convalescing.
Feeling the familiar rush of magic-- it rippled out and extended around him, air catching to billow his cloak outward as he flitted after Sirius on nothing buy his own will and determination. He conserved his strength with straight line movement, wand out and at the ready; "Protego!"
Have a shield bubble to bounce about in for a moment, Sirius. It's better then heading toward the buildings or the ground at breakneck speeds.
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"Ta for that. Forgot which way was up for a moment th- ...Oh."
This would mark the point at which Sirius finally turned and saw his savior's face.
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In mid aid. No broom.
Sweat is beading on his brow; this little trick will cost him, so soon. Focus is hard to keep. But once Sirius is righted, he releases the shield, putting his wand away. He wonders if that is prudent; this is Sirius Black, after all, and the man has never been wise about choosing his battles.
"Fresh from Azkaban. Hrmph. Someone else can fill you in on the rest, then." He drifts backward, slowly--wary. He will never trust Sirius, but there's good reason for that: He's never been able to, not once.
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The.
Hell.
"...How are y-" Sirius's amazement is almost enough to overcome his hatred. Which should tell you just how amazed he is, because that is a LOT of hatred. And here it is, all in his face.
"What, running away, Snape? Lost your taste for revenge now that there aren't a flock of Dementors to do the dirty work for you?"
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"I don't need revenge on you, anymore." Well, that's not the most warm and cuddly of cryptic statements ever, there, Severus. "Having you remain in my debt is revenge enough."
...something says that's not entirely what he means, but Merlin forbid to let Snape say anything straight unless he must.
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"Oh, let's not let anything so crass as debt come between us, Severus, not when we've turned over this beautiful new leaf." He smiles expansively, but it comes nowhere near his eyes.
"I'll call this an even exchange for the present I got you earlier. Such a shame you don't seem to be using it, though. I rather thought a chemistry set that let you make your own shampoo would improve everyone's lives all around, but I apologize if the skills required were a bit beyond your abilities."
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The truth.
"You're pathetic," he says with the sincerity of a man who has seen exactly how low a man can go. There's no real fear of Sirius anymore; it's hard to fear a man you understand, even if you hate him all the same for it. "Less than a week and you're already back to juvenile pranks because you have nothing, are nothing, will never be anything except a fond memory for a boy you fail utterly, in the end."
His lips, pale and bloodless, curl in a smirk. "And you do fail him. You fail terribly Black. Think on that, the next time you look at your happy little clan -- you failed all of them, in the end. The only one to see things to the end... was me."
His voice has gone tremulous -- and before his strength fails, he snaps his cloak around and zips for the window. Otherwise, he's going to be the splatter for playing hero for a man who simply... doesn't really deserve it.
But for all his bluster, a traitorous voice reminds him: The only reason he saw it to the end is... because he's the one who set it in motion in the first place.
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It lacks the usual confidence however, and when Snape gets back to the window and turns, Black isn't smiling anymore.
"What do you mean, 'fail' him?"
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Uneven yellow teeth flash, but it's in a snarl, not a smile. "You put Potter in danger by destroying his focus, leaving him grieving and lost when we have ill time to afford a boy who has never had parents lose the only thing he deems close to blood kin, you moron!"
There is something-- odd here.
Something invested in Harry that Sirius may have never seen before from this man. Something that didn't exist until long after Sirius was dead and Snape was in the thick of things.
Something changed, and sometimes, Snape is not even aware of it.... or he's in very firm denial of it, one or the other.
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Shock. Disbelief. Dawning understanding. Horror.
Sirius Black sits on his broom and stares at Severus Snape, and for once the disgust on his face isn't aimed at the Slytherin. It didn't take a brilliant Legilimens to understand why: no one had told him. So many of his friends here were from future points in his world, and none of them had seen fit to tell Sirius his fate.
"You're lying. You'd...say anything." Oh such a broken note in his voice, but being broken in the face of overwhelming emotion was not a good sign. Sirius had not yet gotten around to feeling anger, but Snape of all people should know that it's coming. When the storm of Sirius's pain breaks, it would need an outlet, and Snape was his very favorite scapegoat.
This could get very ugly.
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A very good time.
"Why? What in the world would it gain me? I've never actively sought your suffering, which is more then you can say about me, dog." The whole wanting him executed was-- well, that was about Lily. And that was pretty damn intense. He'd believed Sirius her betrayer, after all... After knowing he wasn't, that fizzled out. Then it was sniping and bitching and two grown men acting like children, because neither had grown up and it was questionable if either would.
His hand finds his wand, a light touch. His other hand finds the edge of his cloak; when all else fails-- you may need to improvise.
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Sirius pulls right up to the window, following Snape.
"How many people have you killed, Snape? And you sit there and judge me? And that's discounting seven years of vileness at school."
He grabs the windowsill, eyes completely wild. The lights inside flicker as his anger builds and his control slips. So sloppy.
"Remember this one, Snivellus the Meek? SECTUM SEMPRA!"
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Neither does he want to talk about STEALING HIS SPELLS. The counter is up in an instant, that strange melodiousness that he uses in all his counter-curses. "How dare you turn my work against me. Who do you think you are, dog? Let's get you LEASHED! Incarcerous!"
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Sirius doesn't try to counter the curse, he ducks out of the way, hauling a dresser away from the wall to crouch behind. He knew defensive spells but preferred always to be offensive, and had bragged as much when James and Remus called him on it.
"I'm better than you, murderer, and always have been." Good enough at offensive magic that there are any number of spells that he can toss wordless. He appears just long enough to fire one off - but Snape may recognize the gesture for petrificus totalus.
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He takes his own cover, as the wall takes the spell.
"You have no idea what I did for the Order! You have no idea what Albus asked me to do -- because none of you cowards could face what I did, day after day!" He shouts back, fingers darting into a pocket and pulling out the cigarette case, filled with tiny vials. He buys time with working to enrage Sirius, popping one open and downing it's contents before he spoke. Duro in a bottle; he wished he'd had the good sense to take it before meeting with Voldemort.
"I spied and I lied! You're right! But I have a list of people I watched die so that people like you could live! Fifty-seven dead at the Battle of Hogwarts. Fifty-seven! You were dead and gone for two years, by that time, you useless lush -- or you would have been fifty-eight!" And then he's over the couch again, sallow skin grayish in tone from the potion's affects. THe next jinx his launches is boils. That one never goes out of style.
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Another spell goes flying, leaving a scorch mark on...Snape is hiding behind a sofa?!
"Ah, -fuck!" Up just a little too long, Sirius gets that one full in the face. (Which is not the worst place to get hexed over with boils, let the records show. The incident with Mulciber and Peter's trousers in fourth year shall stand forever in evidence.)
All the same, it was aggravating as all hell - not only had Snape hit him, but he'd hit him with a childish jinx. That Sirius was lucky Snape hadn't hexed his tongue out only makes him more angry. Snape's specialty may be potions, but Sirius's is transfiguration. Transfiguring a couch into a crocodile was not particularly difficult.
So now there was a massive snaggle-toothed reptile in the room. This is an improvement?
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