(Untitled)

[not_the_grim]

Countless times Sirius had read Rowling's books since he discovered them upon the rec room shelf in his first months on the island. He had known, in a dim and distant fashion, what Azakaban was, and then, through those accounts, gleaned an idea of the imprint it would leave upon him, body and soul

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[not_the_grim]

Years it's been since Sirius last laid eyes on Severus Snape. Not since he left Hogwarts, as a matter of fact, which makes it all the more disconcerting that Sirius instantly recognises the disgruntled slope of shoulders beneath a tangle of predictably greasy hair.

More disconcerting, though, is the way Sirius' mind clashes with his instincts, the reaction to that skinny slip of a man practically physical, like muscle memory. Slate-gray eyes narrow and his fingers twitch, but his stomach twists into a hard, conflicted knot, because he knows too much now to have the luxury of simply loathing Severus Snape anymore. He loathes that bitter twist of emotion instead, even as he bears down on it and tries to find a measure of charity for Harry's sake if nothing else.

It's really bloody lucky for everyone that lately Sirius has an abundance of charity to spare.

"Harry mentioned you'd turned up," he says, just loud enough to be heard over the crash of the waves. His voice is calm, perfectly casual, but there's a distinctly uncharitable tilt to his mouth and his eyes are cold and sharp.

It isn't fucking fair, him here when James and Remus are both gone now.

[useabezoar]

At the sound of the other man's voice -- an all too familiar voice, a voice that was the source of some of his worst memories for years and years -- Snape whipped around. He stared hard at Sirius Black, sitting nonchalantly underneath a tree.

Oh, he'd known Black was here, and then gone, and then here again, but he'd counted himself exceedingly lucky that he hadn't had to encounter the sorry excuse for a man.

"It was almost too good to be true," he said, trademark sneer curling across his face, "hearing you were gone. Pity, the island seems to have spit you back out, Black."

[not_the_grim]

Snape has the truth of it, there; Sirius does feel as if he'd been half-swallowed and then spat back out, weary and used. The aptness rankles a bit, but he shrugs it off with an exaggerated roll of one bony shoulder.

"Well, I heard you'd be here and couldn't stand to miss it," he replies. "I've not any greasy traitors in my life at the moment, and I reckon you count for at least two or three."

[useabezoar]

Snape folded his arms across his chest. Just the sight of Black sitting there so casually dredged up old life that he'd not-so-long-ago left behind.

The island's general care-free nature sapped some of his anger and enmity towards the other man, but not all of it, not by a long shot. "You'd know all about being a traitor, wouldn't you, Black?" he snapped. "A disgrace to your entire family, it's always been such an impressive feat of yours."