Fic: It May Be Over
Title: It May Be Over
Summary: It's been 21 years since the end of the war. Some survivors carry their scars in a plain sight, some of them not.
Characters/Pairings: Severus/Sirius
Genre: Angst
Rating/Warnings: PG | PTSD, selective mutism, past trauma, survivor guilt, emotional hurt/comfort, scars
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1044
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: monkiainen
Notes: For sirius_black
21 bloody years.
It felt unbelievable, and yet it was the truth. 21 bloody years since Voldemort was defeated and the war ended.
Frankly speaking, Sirius had thought he would never see the end of the war, let alone decades after that. It had to be a miracle when so many others had died. Remus. Tonks. Albus. James. Lily. So many good people, so many lives wasted because of one maniac.
It's not like Sirius escaped the war unscathed, no. One cannot always see the scars the others are wearing.
21 years after the fact, and there they were all again, back in Hogwarts. Those who had survived. Harry was there, of course, how could he not be? Even if Sirius knew how much his godson detested the remainders of the childhood he never had.
No one tried to make a conversation with Sirius, which was just fine with him. He just wanted to nurse his Firewhisky in the silence before hiking back to Hogsmeade and Apparating home. Whatever that meant these days. A dark shadow moving in his peripheral vision made Sirius look up - but it couldn't be. No. His mind was clearly playing tricks, making Sirius see things that weren't even there. It must have the stress of being back to the one place Sirius didn't want to be, but the Ministry had stated even recluse Animagis slash was heroes had to attend the "celebrations" once and a while if they wanted to avoid punishment. Wasn't this farce of a party punishment enough?
Ah. So maybe…
A tall man, all dressed up in black, glided smoothly next to Sirius and waved at the bartender to get a drink of his own. Snape. Man who everyone thought to be dead for the longest time, but who had survived Nagini's attack after all. With what cost, nobody knew - Snape hasn't been seen in these Ministry enforced get-togethers. Haven't been seen until tonight.
Sirius nodded briefly as a greeting and was surprised when Snape returned the gesture. Supposedly long-time childhood rivalries could be forgotten when there's a common enemy to be defeated.
Bang.
Sirius reacted instantly, taking his Animagus form and running as far away from the sudden noise as possible. Were they under attack? Was it all going to start again? Would the Ministry actually do something this time, instead of just pretending nothing sinister was going on?
Someone was…. petting his fur, asking him to calm down, please come this way, and follow me. The sound was quiet, so quiet, as if the person talking had difficulties talking loud. But they smelled familiar, comforting, someone Sirius could trust so he followed the sound and the hand that was holding his fur.
Inside the castle they went, down the stairs, along the corridors until they reached a dark door in the dungeons. A tingle in his fur told the tale of protective wards, and once they were inside the room Sirius took back his human form and almost planted face-first to the floor if it hadn't been Snape catching him.
Sirius soon found himself sitting on a couch near the fire, another glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. But his hands were shaking too much, and the contents of the glass were in danger of spilling away. Snape took gently (Gently? What was going on?) Sirius's hands to his own, removing the dangerously wobbling glass to the table. It helped to have an anchor of sorts, even if Sirius felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't function.
A vial filled with a blue potion appeared in Sirius's line of view, popping slowly in the air. It smelled faintly of lavender and peppermint, and the combination of the two smells was distinctly familiar. It was… soothing.
"It's Calming Draught. Take it, please", Snape murmured, stroking Sirius's hands as if he were a frightened animal instead of a grown man. (but I am a dog, I want to be a dog, it's easier)
With shaking hands Sirius's grasped the vial from the air, downing its contents in one go. It didn't take long for the potion to affect, and it was only then Sirius really looked around and noticed some things.
Firstly, they were what appeared to be Snape's private quarters. That should have been more surprising than it actually was, but then again it made sense Snape would have brought Sirius into familiar territory. The second thing Sirius noticed was the long, jagged scar on Severus's throat. It looked like it had never healed fully after all these years.
"There are no known cures for Nagini's poison. I have… experimented over the years, but this is the best I can do for now. I don't think I will never have my voice completely restored, and frankly speaking, I don't really care if it stays like this until the end."
Sirius nodded, trying to convey his thoughts and feelings by facial expressions alone. Oh, Sirius knew all too well what it was like to be unable to voice yourself to others. It was weird, really, that there was nothing physically wrong with Sirius that would make him unable to talk. He just… couldn't. His mouth wouldn't open, he couldn’t form words, not a sound would be heard from Sirius. It had been like that ever since Sirius had discovered Remus's body after the final battle. Sirius vaguely remembers screaming and crying until his voice was hoarse, but after that - nothing.
But… would Severus understand? Or would he think that Sirius was still the insolent brat he had been in their youth, and take Sirius's silence as an insult? Sirius felt the panic rising again. No, he couldn't stay here, he had to go, he had to…
A quill and a parchment suddenly appeared in front of him. Sirius gasped soundlessly and dared a glimpse to Severus. There was no repulsion, no hatred - only understanding silence.
Yes. The silence he could do, it was more than fine. And if at some point in the evening both men migrated from sitting opposite each to sitting right next to each other on the comfortable couch, neither of them made a number of it.
War may have been over decades ago, but their sorrows were not.
Summary: It's been 21 years since the end of the war. Some survivors carry their scars in a plain sight, some of them not.
Characters/Pairings: Severus/Sirius
Genre: Angst
Rating/Warnings: PG | PTSD, selective mutism, past trauma, survivor guilt, emotional hurt/comfort, scars
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1044
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: monkiainen
Notes: For sirius_black
21 bloody years.
It felt unbelievable, and yet it was the truth. 21 bloody years since Voldemort was defeated and the war ended.
Frankly speaking, Sirius had thought he would never see the end of the war, let alone decades after that. It had to be a miracle when so many others had died. Remus. Tonks. Albus. James. Lily. So many good people, so many lives wasted because of one maniac.
It's not like Sirius escaped the war unscathed, no. One cannot always see the scars the others are wearing.
21 years after the fact, and there they were all again, back in Hogwarts. Those who had survived. Harry was there, of course, how could he not be? Even if Sirius knew how much his godson detested the remainders of the childhood he never had.
No one tried to make a conversation with Sirius, which was just fine with him. He just wanted to nurse his Firewhisky in the silence before hiking back to Hogsmeade and Apparating home. Whatever that meant these days. A dark shadow moving in his peripheral vision made Sirius look up - but it couldn't be. No. His mind was clearly playing tricks, making Sirius see things that weren't even there. It must have the stress of being back to the one place Sirius didn't want to be, but the Ministry had stated even recluse Animagis slash was heroes had to attend the "celebrations" once and a while if they wanted to avoid punishment. Wasn't this farce of a party punishment enough?
Ah. So maybe…
A tall man, all dressed up in black, glided smoothly next to Sirius and waved at the bartender to get a drink of his own. Snape. Man who everyone thought to be dead for the longest time, but who had survived Nagini's attack after all. With what cost, nobody knew - Snape hasn't been seen in these Ministry enforced get-togethers. Haven't been seen until tonight.
Sirius nodded briefly as a greeting and was surprised when Snape returned the gesture. Supposedly long-time childhood rivalries could be forgotten when there's a common enemy to be defeated.
Bang.
Sirius reacted instantly, taking his Animagus form and running as far away from the sudden noise as possible. Were they under attack? Was it all going to start again? Would the Ministry actually do something this time, instead of just pretending nothing sinister was going on?
Someone was…. petting his fur, asking him to calm down, please come this way, and follow me. The sound was quiet, so quiet, as if the person talking had difficulties talking loud. But they smelled familiar, comforting, someone Sirius could trust so he followed the sound and the hand that was holding his fur.
Inside the castle they went, down the stairs, along the corridors until they reached a dark door in the dungeons. A tingle in his fur told the tale of protective wards, and once they were inside the room Sirius took back his human form and almost planted face-first to the floor if it hadn't been Snape catching him.
Sirius soon found himself sitting on a couch near the fire, another glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. But his hands were shaking too much, and the contents of the glass were in danger of spilling away. Snape took gently (Gently? What was going on?) Sirius's hands to his own, removing the dangerously wobbling glass to the table. It helped to have an anchor of sorts, even if Sirius felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't function.
A vial filled with a blue potion appeared in Sirius's line of view, popping slowly in the air. It smelled faintly of lavender and peppermint, and the combination of the two smells was distinctly familiar. It was… soothing.
"It's Calming Draught. Take it, please", Snape murmured, stroking Sirius's hands as if he were a frightened animal instead of a grown man. (but I am a dog, I want to be a dog, it's easier)
With shaking hands Sirius's grasped the vial from the air, downing its contents in one go. It didn't take long for the potion to affect, and it was only then Sirius really looked around and noticed some things.
Firstly, they were what appeared to be Snape's private quarters. That should have been more surprising than it actually was, but then again it made sense Snape would have brought Sirius into familiar territory. The second thing Sirius noticed was the long, jagged scar on Severus's throat. It looked like it had never healed fully after all these years.
"There are no known cures for Nagini's poison. I have… experimented over the years, but this is the best I can do for now. I don't think I will never have my voice completely restored, and frankly speaking, I don't really care if it stays like this until the end."
Sirius nodded, trying to convey his thoughts and feelings by facial expressions alone. Oh, Sirius knew all too well what it was like to be unable to voice yourself to others. It was weird, really, that there was nothing physically wrong with Sirius that would make him unable to talk. He just… couldn't. His mouth wouldn't open, he couldn’t form words, not a sound would be heard from Sirius. It had been like that ever since Sirius had discovered Remus's body after the final battle. Sirius vaguely remembers screaming and crying until his voice was hoarse, but after that - nothing.
But… would Severus understand? Or would he think that Sirius was still the insolent brat he had been in their youth, and take Sirius's silence as an insult? Sirius felt the panic rising again. No, he couldn't stay here, he had to go, he had to…
A quill and a parchment suddenly appeared in front of him. Sirius gasped soundlessly and dared a glimpse to Severus. There was no repulsion, no hatred - only understanding silence.
Yes. The silence he could do, it was more than fine. And if at some point in the evening both men migrated from sitting opposite each to sitting right next to each other on the comfortable couch, neither of them made a number of it.
War may have been over decades ago, but their sorrows were not.