Part Five: Interlude

Severus Snape made his way up the West Tower staircase as the stragglers from Professor Sinistra's Astronomy class made their way down.

On the whole, the fifth year students ignored him, only one or two acknowledging his presence with either a nod of the head or an even braver, "Sir."

He waited until the last one joined his friends before continuing up to the observation area, where there were still telescopes aimed at the heavens.

He liked to come up here, once in a while, to aim the telescopes not at the heavens but at the surrounding countryside, ostensibly looking out for any sign of Death Eater activity. In fact, he kept on hoping for a sighting of a different kind. Of a man – even a large, shaggy, bear-like dog – making his way towards Hogwarts.

He opened the Tower door and discovered he was not alone.

"Potter. Yes, of course. It would be you. I believe class is long over and, at this time of the night, you and your..." He really couldn't call them accomplices: he had, in a way, promised to be kind. "...colleagues should be heading for your House and dormitories."

Potter turned to look at him, his face hidden in the shadows.

By the half-moon light, Snape could see Granger's face tighten. He knew that though she had been saying just that to the other two, she resented the fact that he was making the same comment.

Weasley just made a low growling sound and muttered something very uncomplimentary under his breath.

Reluctantly, the trio left the telescope, which coincidentally was no longer aimed at the heavens.

Granger went first, nodding her head as she walked quickly by him and then almost ran down the stairs. Weasley, apart from sending another of those looks in his direction, ignored him and followed her.

Potter was the last to leave. He headed for the door and the staircase, not once looking in Snape's direction.

Still, as he went to pass the Potions Master, he stopped. Eyes firmly focused on the door ahead, he said, in a low voice, "I miss him."

Snape's breath caught and, for a moment, he looked upon his lover's godson with softer eyes.

"Yes," he also kept his voice low and even, "I miss him, too."

Potter gave a slight nod and continued to the door, shutting it behind him.

Snape went over to the telescope and pretended that the boy's hand had not touched his as he had moved away.

Part Six: A Holiday

The ceiling in the Great Hall mirrored the storm that was raging outside Hogwarts School. Minus the pouring rain. And the lightning which might upset the first years.

Life was unstable enough these days, what with the rumours abounding of You-Know-Who's rising power, the number of Death Eaters who had suddenly come out of retirement, ready to join what they were certain would be the winning side.

There were tensions in the Hall among the students, some of whose families had now overtly chosen sides in what all expected to be the Ultimate War that would see one side win and the other lose. Dumbledore had banned any talk of what he called "a political nature", which had not stopped a few fist fights from breaking out, not only between Houses, but within them as well. Which added tensions to the already overly burdened Heads of House. And to the prefects.

So the addition of verisimilitude thunder and lightning was out of the question. Students and staff were jumpy enough as was.

No one noticed the animal until it was a good third up the aisle-way between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

It was a large, bear-like creature, with a long shaggy coat that was heavily dripping water as the beast happily marched on its way to the front of the room.

A Hufflepuff was the first to notice it and drew others' attention to it with a high startled shriek. "What the..."

"Oh!"

The animal gave a large doggy smile at the attention it was garnering, but did not hesitate in its quest to reach the front of the Hall.

"What is it?

"It's a dog!"

"A dog?!"

"What is a dog doing..."

"Does Filch know?"

"Never mind Filch. Does Mrs. Norris know?"

As most of the student body turned, craned their necks up over heads or down around drooping robe sleeves – some even standing up on the benches, only three of the sixth year students actually recognized the animal.

"Isn't that..." Hermione Granger grabbed Harry Potter's arm.

"What's he doing here?" Ron Weasley's mouth dropped open. "Doesn't he know that he's still considered to be an..."

"Shhh," Granger shook her head, cocking her head to the room. "Too many ears."

Harry said nothing, just watched as his godfather, in his Animagus form of a dog, made his way calmly to the front of the room.

There were two others who knew who the animal really was.

At the head table, Professor Dumbledore sighed. He should have known. The last few messages he had received from his agent provocateur indicated that said agent was in need of what Muggles referred to as "R & R".

Severus Snape watched his sometime lover casually making his way through the hall. He frowned and shook his head slightly. No wonder Potter acted without seriously thinking a matter through. With this as an example, how else could one expect him to behave?

Still, the warm glow in his heart, which had been banked to ember these past months, flickered to life.

He looked over the room and saw Potter rise to his feet. Damn! The lad had better keep his mouth shut unless he wanted to see Dementors at Hogwarts again.

Potter's eyes met his and glared at him. He gestured to the dog with his head as if to ask if this was his idea. Snape raised a haughty eyebrow and glared back.

And had the rare experience of sharing a moment's common frustration with Potter over the behaviour of one Sirius Black.

The dog had finally reached the front of the student tables. There he stopped, looked around the room and, with smiling determination, shook the water off himself.

He did so slowly, starting from tail end first, gradually rotating so that the wave of spraying water worked its way up his haunches, his back end, his middle part, his front end and finally his head.

Those in the immediate vicinity, whether Huffelpuff or Gryffindor, were in the direct line of fire.

There were girlish screams, boyish howls and a general scramble to get out of reach.

The dog did it again, catching those who had not moved quickly enough.

There was laughter from those not sprayed, gradually joined by those who had been.

Laughter, thought Dumbledore looking about the Hall, not a sound much heard this session. He glared at the dog, but had already forgiven him the method of his appearance.

He looked down the Gryffindor table and saw Granger, her hands clamped over her mouth, eyes sparkling with laughter; Weasley, up on the bench, checking out the reactions of the other Houses, relaying them to Granger and Potter. Potter, who seemed to be the only one among the students not laughing. Whose worried eyes met his. Dumbledore shrugged and, raising his hands, called for silence.

"We seem to have a guest amongst us tonight," he announced.

The dog made a great production out of looking around the room as if seeking out this guest, to the sound of laughter and giggles. He suddenly seemed to realize that referred to him and, with a loud "WOOF!", went bounding up to Dumbledore who had come from behind the table to greet this unexpected visitor.

Just before reaching the Headmaster, the dog came to a halt and stretching his forelegs, lowering his head, he seemed to bow a greeting to the old wizard.

To the delight of the Hall, Dumbledore bowed back in return.

The Hall quietened though the sounds of stifled giggles could still be heard.

The dog took a couple of steps forward and then sitting, raised his head high so that Professor Dumbledore could see that there was something hanging from his collar. He extracted what proved to be a small scroll tied with a piece of string.

Dumbledore untied the knot, rolled open the scroll, and read the top sheet:

‘We all need a holiday. Give the Houses the day off tomorrow and let them have fun. There's little of it coming. Tell the staff they have no duties other than to enjoy themselves. And, lastly, do not, repeat NOT (underlined SIX times!) bother Snape and me for the next 24 hours under any (underlined FIVE times!) condition.'

The second sheet contained a list of all Death Eaters who had joined Voldemort's forces from the Mainland, with notation on whom had returned to his home base to raise support for Voldemort.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and tried hard to recover from the blow of some of the names on the list.

He rolled up the scrolls and looked around the Hall. The War was coming faster than they had really thought it would, and preparations were nowhere ready to handle these added forces. Black was right: it was time for some light relief.

"I have here," he called out, holding up the scrolls, "a directive from an authority higher than my own, indicating that, due to special circumstances, tomorrow has been declared..."

The whole room held its breath, all eyes on him. Dumbledore looked at the dog who was sitting patiently at his feet. He grinned at the room. "Has been declared...for everyone!... a HOLIDAY!"

There was stunned silence in the Hall and then the cheers began. To the great delight of all, Dumbledore raised his wand and, suddenly, the grey ceiling disappeared to be replaced with rainbows and blue sky and fluffy clouds. While there was reaction to that, he signalled one of the House Elves over. "If you can, have the desserts be festive rather than the usual puddings." The House Elf grinned, nodded and disappeared to relay the message.

Dumbledore signalled again for silence and finally got it. "Now then, the holiday does not begin until tomorrow so there is still supper tonight and assignments to be done."

There were groans, but good-natured ones.

Dumbledore gave the signal and the platters filled. He looked down at the dog. "Well, I suppose you too need feeding? Well, come on, you rascal. Let me see what I can find you."

But instead of following Dumbledore to his place at the table, the dog waited until people realized that he wasn't moving. Only when he had the attention he wanted did he move. And it was, to the great delight of the Hall, to sit by the Potions Master's chair, by itself at the far end of the table where Snape could keep a watchful eye on his House.

Snape said nothing, ignoring the snickers in the hall, the chuckles from the staff table. Ignoring the dog himself as he, Snape, helped himself to several chicken legs, roasted potatoes, a hot vegetable stew.

People began to notice that as he ate, the dog sat patiently, in expectation of some food coming his way.

And they watched as Snape calmly ate a roasted potato, then some of the vegetables. One or two of them grumbled when he cut a piece of chicken and raised it to his mouth. The dog whimpered pathetically, immediately ensuring that all watchers were on his side.

Snape looked from the chicken on his fork, to the dog, then the Hall, back to the dog. "I seem once more to have been cast as the villain," he spoke not loudly but clearly.

The dog gave a wag of its long tail and whimpered again, as if in agreement.

Snape stared at the animal who lowered his head to butt gently at Snape's knee.

There were sympathetic oohs and aahs, several loud, "Isn't that cute!" and even one, "Hey! Over here, Dog. We'll feed you."

But the dog waited, looking, said Professor Sinistra later on in the teachers' lounge, just sad.

Snape grimaced, removed the chicken from the fork and offered it to the dog. Who took it very delicately between his rather large teeth.

There were snickers again in the Hall, and at the staff table. Dumbledore lowered his head over his plate and wondered whether Black was brave or just plain foolhardy.

The meal continued under the watchful eyes of the students. One mouthful for Snape, the next for the dog. Who wasn't keen on the broccoli in the vegetable stew. He spat it disdainfully onto the floor.

"Eat that," snapped Snape. "If I have to hand feed you, you will eat what I give you. Vegetables are good for...for your fur, so eat it. There won't be any more until you do."

The dog looked at Snape then down at the broccoli lying on the floor.

There were a lot of sympathetic sounds again in the Hall. The dog cocked his head, grinned his best doggy grin.

"That is not going to work on me," Snape said. "Broccoli or nothing more." And he forked a particularly succulent piece of chicken into his mouth.

The dog sighed loudly and reluctantly took the offensive vegetable into his mouth.

"Chew and swallow," challenged Snape.

The dog lowered his head and made a long production of chewing and swallowing the one little piece of broccoli.

"I know how he feels," chirped one thin tenor voice. "It's yucky stuff!"

Snape made certain to feed the beast at his feet one more piece of the detested vegetable before dessert appeared, strawberry ice cream and chocolate cake, gingerbread cookies decorated as dragons and hippogriffs. The dog was very pleased to gobble up a bowl of each.

The students went off to their respective Houses in lighter spirits. The professors, laughing and chatting at this and that, went off to their offices to get things done so that they, too, would be free on the morrow. "I think lunch at the Three Broomsticks is in order," declared Professor Sprout.

Dumbledore was one of the last to leave. "As per instructions," he informed Snape, "I shall be seeing you in no sooner than 24 hours."

Snape responded to that with a coldly raised eyebrow.

As Dumbledore left to find his own office – password ‘jaw breaker', he wondered again if Black was going to like the reception he was sure to get once in Snape's quarters. Snape was not known for his sense of humour. Oh, well, it wasn't his worry. Now then, he thought, the Three Broomsticks for lunch sounded quite the idea.

Snape glared at the dog who sat watching him. "I suppose you're pleased with yourself."

The dog jumped to his feet and barked softly. With enthusiasm, he bounded towards the exit, came bounding back and grabbed Snape's robe in his mouth, pulling towards the door.

"Yes, we will be discussing this." Snape tried to keep his expression formidable, in spite of some unnatural urge to hum cheerfully.

They were in the hallway, making for the end where the stairs led to the dungeon area and Snape's quarters when they heard, "Eh, Professor?"

Man and dog stopped, turned to see who was calling.

"Ah, yes, of course. Potter. And with your sidekicks, Granger and Weasley. Is there something that you want?"

"It's the dog," said Weasley. "We're sure you don't want it cluttering up your quarters, sir."

"It looks as though," said Granger, looking very intense, as usual, "it requires a bath and a good brushing. We don't mind doing that."

"It'll keep the dog out of your way." Weasley nudged Potter who up until now had only watched the dog, not saying a word. Potter continued to say nothing: he just watched the dog.

"My," murmured Snape, "such enthusiasm. I suppose none of you has any work to do. Granger, I wouldn't be surprised, but the two others? I sincerely doubt that."

Potter took a step forward. "Is this what you want?" he spoke directly to the dog.

The dog came up to him, slowly licked the side of his face and then, with a nod, went back to stand by Snape.

Potter nodded his head. "Okay. Next time?"

The dog nodded.

Potter turned and headed to the Gryffindor staircase. The other two hesitated, then followed him, muttering questions.

Snape knew the exact moment Potter told his friends that Sirius Black would be safe with Snape, maybe, judging from the reactions, even going so far as to indicate that they were lovers.

"WHAT!" From Weasley.

"When...How...Why?" From Granger.

Snape looked at the dog happily heeling at his side. "You do know that you are going to be the ruin of me."

"Woof!" and the dog charged ahead, to wait by Snape's door.

Snape closed the door, back to the room. "Just what the hell were you..."

His back hit the wall and his mouth was captured. Before he had time to think, hands were on him, pushing his robe apart, at his waist working the buttons loose.

The tongue mapping out his mouth barely allowed him to breathe and when it finally did...

It dropped to the cock eager hands had freed.

"Merlin!" Snape gasped, closed his eyes and gave up on thought.

The hot wetness made it impossible to do anything other than feel sensations that he had only imagined over the past months. He knew that he had hungered for this man, but to this extent?

Hands clawed at his buttocks, holding him steady as that magic mouth travelled back and forth, sucking, licking, almost eating him until...

He came back to himself, slowly sagging against the wall, gradually slipping to the floor, pants and underwear bunched around his ankles.

Sitting back on his heels, watching him, was this scraggly looking vagabond. His hair had the wet greasy look of something that badly needed soap. His face was bearded, a black tangled thing. His robe and clothes were definitely in need of a change, maybe even to be thrown away.

But the brilliant eyes watching his face, the wide self-satisfied grin, the fact that this man was here, within his reach, all that made up for the odour of wet dog.

"You are so beautiful," said Black, his hand caressing the still slightly stunned expression on Snape's face.

Snape closed his eyes and made a very small snorting noise. "Still blind, I see."

"No. But in desperate need of a shower."

Snape reached out and pulled the man close to him. He sniffed and grimaced. "Yes, you are." And then took Black's mouth and welcomed him back properly.

Black rested his head on Snape's shoulder. "I want you to fuck me through the mattress."

"After," Snape's voice held a hint of laughter, "you've had a shower. You do remember what soap looks like, I hope."

Black pulled back onto his heels, rose and offered Snape a hand up. Snape looked down at the bundle around his feet, sighed and stooping, managed to raise the material high enough so that he could hobble to the nearest chair. He sat, removed his boots and clothing, tossing them to one side.

"Join me in the shower," Black held his hand out. "Please."

Snape cocked his head. "Won't that make things a little tight?" he indicated dryly.

Black grinned his lecherous grin, effective even with the hair that surrounded his mouth. "Consider it the price you have to pay for feeding me that disgusting green crap."

Snape made a sound that sounded like rusty pipes trying to work. "You should have seen your face while you chewed that small little fleuret. One would have thought you were chewing on a Lark's Vomit Chocolate."

Black's hands were busy working on Snape's jacket. "I hate this bloody thing," he growled. "I want to touch you. Easily." And with a sharp tug, he sent buttons flying about the room. Before Snape had time to respond with more than a "What!", his shirt buttons followed and Black's hands were busy caressing chest, ribs, and his mouth was clamping on a suddenly appreciative nipple.

"Bloody hell!" Snape finally managed to push Black back far enough so that he could glare at his unrepentant lover. "If I promise to indeed fuck you through the mattress, will you go bathe? And shave that thing off your face. I want to see you."

With a grin, Black dragged Snape into the bathroom and then into the shower.

Merly shook his head, all the while grinning as he dealt with the spray of buttons in the main room. He picked up the clothing that had been tossed here and there, turning his nose up at some which he knew would probably dissolve if washed. As he put the room to rights, he was deciding on a menu for Master and Sir to enjoy. Food easily eaten with fingers, he thought, listening to the noises coming from the bathroom.

And food which would not spoil if not immediately eaten.

In the shower, Snape had taken possession of the soap and had spent careful minutes diligently washing his lover's body. Black gasped, sighed, groaned happily. "Hot water and your hands. Nothing better than this in all the world, Sev."

"How long have you been in dog form, Sy?" Snape snapped his fingers and a bottle of heavy duty shampoo appeared.

Black moaned at the feel of Snape's long fingers rubbing his scalp. "Far too long. No one suspects an animal sniffing around buildings in the area where Voldemort has set himself up. Besides, all the spells protecting him are set up for humans and registered Animagi. Little Peter does not seem to have bothered checking whether Sirius Black did indeed die in the that circle of light. I warrant that he just assumed since no one had heard or reported a sighting of me that the spell has done its work. He was always a bit sloppy when it came to following up."

Black leaned back into Snape's touch. "And if you are going to shorten my name, please use Rus, not Sy."

Snape rested his head against Black's as his soaped hands glided up and down the wiry torso. All that shaggy pelt had hidden the fact that Black was also in need of a few hearty meals. "Why ‘Rus'?"

Black turned around so that his hands could play with the muscles of Snape's back and arse. "Lilbeth had trouble with my name when she was put in charge of me. She's the only one who's ever called me that. Until you."

Snape saw to it that his lover was completely rinsed before moving him out of the shower, drying him and somehow -- because by then he was conscious only of the touch of Black's hands on him, of the feel of skin against skin – he got them into the bedchamber and onto the bed.

During breakfast after the holiday, the atmosphere in the Hall was a lot less gloomy than it had been. Dumbledore made a mental note to declare another if tensions grew again. Right now, the younger students were all chirping happily about the hippogriff rides Hagrid had arranged. He'd offered to keep an eye on the first and second years, since his presence in the Three Broomsticks was still a subject of some heated discussion with Madame Rosmerta. The older students, those with permission, had spent a happy day in Hogsmeade, making the proprietors of many businesses very happy with this unexpected windfall.

The staff looked far more relaxed than they had for some time. Dumbledore smiled to himself. All the rounds that the Headmaster himself had paid had helped, even if they had required some quick Pomfrey remedies before going to bed.

And even Snape was in a less stern mood. Mind you, Dumbledore smirked to himself, the man had sat himself down rather gingerly this morning. But the lines of tension around his mouth and eyes seemed to have faded to nothing. He had even shared a slight nod with Potter this morning, without any of the mutual glaring present.

Yes, indeed, Black's visit had had a very beneficial effect on everyone.

Pity, thought the Headmaster as he looked about the Hall, that it wouldn't continue.

Parts Seven and Eight

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