A Kind of Redemption

Title: A Kind of Redemption
Pairing: SS/RL
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For michaelchance, based on this wish fic request, with many thanks for running the Master and the Wolf fest.
Thanks to tarnationawaits for beta reading and helpful comments.


A Kind of Redemption

It was simply not fair - even when he was dead, he couldn't escape this damned house or the tedium of Order meetings. True, he didn't have to sit there, breathing stuffy air and trying not to look bored and resentful that everyone else had something to do, but he couldn't talk to anyone. Couldn't do anything, really, except watch and listen. So he did.

The room hummed with hushed conversations and restless shuffling while everyone waited for Dumbledore to arrive. Most of the Order was there tonight: Remus, apparently listening attentively to a discussion between Tonks and the Weasley twins, but with that oddly blank look in his eyes that meant his thoughts were far away. Kingsley Shacklebolt, sitting quietly, arms crossed, waiting. Snape, sneering from his corner. Molly Weasley, fussing over her youngest childrens' presence at the meeting, and Arthur trying to placate her...

Speaking of the children, Hermione was droning on at Harry and Ron about her research on bonds - she said she had been trying to find references to anything similar to the connection Harry had with Voldemort. He didn't see how the boys could stand her lectures sometimes, but maybe they just ignored them. Like now - they weren't really paying attention to what she was saying; Ron was shifting in his chair, glancing apprehensively at his mother, and Harry was glaring at Snape. They undoubtedly knew from experience that Hermione would make them listen if what she was saying were actually important.

She was in fine form tonight, all right, lecturing away. "And obviously, it's nothing like the bond between lovers created by the Iugum Animorum spell..."

Iugum Animorum?

Lovers?

"Oh, fuck," Sirius Black whispered. "Fuck! James - you were right. I didn't understand the spell..."

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The sun had been bright, shining through the library windows, and Sirius had been anxious to get on out to the pitch.

"Mate, I'm not sure this is a good idea. We don't understand the spell yet," James had said, looking over his shoulder at the dusty book Sirius had slipped out of the Restricted Section under the oblivious librarian's very nose.

"Maybe we don't, but that's because you haven't read it yet," Sirius had answered impatiently. "It just creates a connection between two people 'of like mind'. Moony said he wished there was a better way for us all to communicate when we're transformed. It's a simple spell, and besides, the first part just finds the 'person of like mind'."

James still looked dubious, so Sirius had kept coaxing. "Nothing says we have to finish the spell if we don't like what turns up. And anyway, of course it's going to be one of us. What could go wrong?"

He held up the little talisman he had folded from a piece of parchment wrapped with one of Remus's hairs.

"Padfoot, wait-"

Ignoring James's protest, Sirius spoke the words that should have made the talisman reveal which of them was most compatible with Moony.

Nothing happened.

Sirius frowned, and James relaxed.

"Well, maybe we just have to be closer to Moony," Sirius said defensively.

"Yeah, right," James said with a smirk. "Come on, put that useless book back, and let's get down the pitch before it's too late."

Sirius had stuck the folded parchment in the pocket of his robes. Nothing had happened when he finally cornered Moony in the common room that night, and he had forgotten all about the spell until they passed Snivellus in the corridor the next day and an unmistakable surge of warmth spread from his pocket.

James and Snivellus traded hexes while Remus frowned and Sirius stared at the glowing square of parchment in his hand with sick disbelief. Snivellus? It couldn't be. Absolutely could not be, no matter what the stupid defective spell said.

As soon as they got back to Gryffindor Tower, he threw the now-quiescent talisman on the fire and watched it shrivel and smoke in the flames, feeling as if it were him twisting in the heat. He was concentrating so fiercely on the blackening parchment that James's voice startled him.

"Never worked, eh? It's for the best; I told you you didn't understand the spell, Padfoot," he said.

Sirius's mouth set in an uncharacteristically bitter line.

"Yes. It's for the best."

Two days later, still feeling the harsh burn of what he now recognized as envy, he had laughed at Snivellus and told him that if he really wanted to know what Remus was up to, he should find a long stick and go to the Whomping Willow that night...

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Dumbledore's arrival jolted Sirius out of his memories, and he realized too late that perhaps he should have listened to whatever Hermione had been telling the boys about bonding spells. He shrugged off the self-reproach - after all, it could hardly matter now.

He entertained himself during another interminable report from Snape by pulling hideous faces at the greasy git, but it wasn't very satisfying since no one could see him anyway. Whatever he was. He already knew he wasn't a ghost; not only was he apparently invisible to everyone, but no one ever heard him either, even when he shouted, and no one so much as shivered when he passed through their body.

He drifted aimlessly, waiting for oblivion to overcome him again, remembering when he'd first realized he was dead. He had been here, in this very room, confusedly listening to various Order members discussing events at the Department of Mysteries and offering stiff and uncomfortable words of sympathy to Moony. Someone had been sniffling...

When he'd realized they were talking about him, he'd questioned, and raged, and tried to get away, but he hadn't been able to get anyone's attention and he hadn't been able to move far. He'd had to endure Moony's blank formality as, one by one, the rest of the Order spoke to him and went away, back to their lives, until only Snape was left.

Sirius had watched helplessly, expecting some characteristic cruelty from the bastard.

Remus had looked across the room, face hard. "Here to offer your condolences, Severus?"

"No," that hateful rich voice had replied. "That would be a mockery, since we both know I am not sorry Black is dead. But...it was a waste."

Sirius had howled at the pain that flashed across Remus's face, but Remus had only nodded slightly in acknowledgment, and Sirius's awareness had faded out as Snape left the room.

Wait, the meeting was breaking up - Sirius made one last futile attempt to attract first Harry's, then Dumbledore's, notice before darkness swallowed him once more.

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The next time Sirius became aware of himself, he was, at least, in a different room. This time, he was in the library, listening to Molly's relentless fussing driving Moony over the edge. He didn't notice Snape standing silently in the corridor until Molly was already on her way out, and he was too consumed with guilt for the circles under Remus's eyes to pay Snape much mind.

Snape turned away when Molly emerged, and Sirius's consciousness began to dim, but not before he heard Moony, leaning his face against the glass to watch the rain-slick street below, whisper "I am so very tired..."

From the slight hesitation in Snape's step, Sirius suspected he had heard too.

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Now he was back in the kitchen again, watching Remus turn and say in surprise, "Severus? I wasn't expecting..."

Remus's voice trailed off as his eyes focused on the small covered cauldron Snape carried.

"Put it somewhere secure," Snape ordered. "One gobletful each night. It should remain drinkable for the full week." Setting the cauldron on the table, he edged toward the door.

Remus was gobsmacked, and Sirius was furious. This had to be Wolfsbane - and what the hell was Snape playing at? He'd refused to make it for Remus any longer after he'd driven him out of Hogwarts - said he was too busy.

"Severus, I... What..."

"I found that I had more time than usual this month. And it is only prudent, since so many of us frequent this mausoleum," Snape said brusquely.

Remus stiffened, but said, "Whatever the reason, thank you, Severus. This is-"

But what it was Sirius wasn't to know; he lost his hold on the present as Snape left without waiting for Remus's thanks.

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Time was impossible to measure in that blank unthinking void between Sirius's brief periods of awareness, but from the look of Remus's face, it was a couple of days after the full moon. That meant it had been over a week since Snape had delivered the potion. Or maybe a month and a week, or two months and a week...

Awareness faded once more, so abruptly that Sirius barely had time to wish, as always, that he could stay with Moony instead.

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He had the pattern! He was conscious - aware - whatever the hell it was - only when Remus and Snape were together. That thought, and its implications, stupefied Sirius so much that he missed the beginning of the argument.

"...laughingstock!" Snape slammed his hand flat on the table.

"Really, Severus," Remus said. "Had I wanted to humiliate you, don't you think I would have come up with something more effective than that?"

Severus's eyes narrowed, and he practically spat in Remus's face. "More humiliating than a vulture-topped hat?"

"Far more. After all, there's not a student at Hogwarts who'd believe you would actually wear Mrs. Longbottom's clothes, Severus - that's part of why it was so funny," Remus said.

Sirius wondered interestedly if Snape were having a seizure, or if he often turned that color.

"You know, if one of the students had been afraid of werewolves - afraid of me - I would have told him to picture me, all furry, carrying a basket and wearing Little Red Riding Hood's costume."

Severus's face was blank.

Remus sighed. "It's a Muggle story. There's a little girl, and a wolf... Oh, never mind. The point is, I can laugh at myself, Severus."

"I've never needed to. There's always been someone waiting to do it for me," Snape said in a low voice.

He had a point, Sirius thought. He realized, as Snape left the room, that it was the first time he had ever seen the man knowingly turn his back to one of them.

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Remus and Snape faced each other across the kitchen table, which was littered with books and scraps of parchment. The details of what they were doing were lost on Sirius, since he wasn't familiar with the background - and since it wasn't directly related to Harry, he didn't really try to understand what they were up to.

He just watched them. He had lost track of the number of times he'd seen them together now, and although he could never tire of watching Moony, God, was he sick of watching Snape.

Watching Snape watch Remus. Like now - Snape's eyes were too intent on Remus as he leaned back from the table and stretched. That was how Snape had always watched Remus, and Sirius had always hated it. Snape had always looked a little too long, a little too intently, but now Sirius knew what it meant that Snape looked at Remus like that, and he hated it even more.

He didn't understand, though, why when Remus opened his eyes and caught Snape looking at him, he flushed ever so slightly.

He didn't want to understand.

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They were in a city, somewhere, in a scrambling fight among the dark streets. Sirius found Remus immediately regardless, but he couldn't locate Snape. He was sure the bastard was here somewhere, though - probably hiding behind one of those white masks.

Remus dodged the brilliant red sparkle of a stunning spell and efficiently countered a pair of hexes, but Sirius suddenly realized Remus was outnumbered and cut off from whoever else was fighting the Death Eaters.

Remus dodged another curse, eyes darting from attacker to attacker. His mouth tightened when he tried to Disapparate, with no success, and he edged slowly backward toward the dubious shelter of a nearby alley. Preoccupied with the Death Eaters in front of him, he failed to notice the dark form moving into position behind him.

"Moony! Behind you!" Sirius screamed fruitlessly. The Death Eater raised his wand. "No! Dammit, Snape, where are you? Help him!"

Another masked figure shouldered his way forward, snarling "Mine!".

Remus's head turned toward Snape's voice, and Snape's spell flung him into the wall. The other Death Eaters laughed as he cried out in pain, then slid limply down to land in a crumpled heap in the road. They lost interest when he didn't move again, turning away in search of other prey.

"Moony-"

Sirius watched helplessly as Snape found Remus's fallen wand and kicked it spinning across the pavement to Remus's side, then cast a hasty disillusionment charm over his motionless form and left without a backward glance, taking Sirius's consciousness with him.

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Remus and Snape were facing off in the kitchen. Remus's cheek was bruised, and his hair was crusted with dried blood.

Snape was still clutching his mask in one white-knuckled hand. "What the hell were you doing? You weren't supposed to be there - you could have been killed! Didn't you learn anything from watching Black..."

Sirius, staring at Snape's pale, strained face as he shouted at Remus, could only think how astonishing it was that his instinct had been to call to Snape for help. That he knew, somehow, that Snape would save Moony if he could.

He looked at Snape, who had stopped shouting at last, and saw the despairing hunger in his eyes as he looked at Remus. And for the first time, he recognized an echo of that hunger in Remus's eyes.

How long had he refused to acknowledge that he saw it? Years, maybe. But he couldn't deny it any longer, and apparently neither could they - Snape was moving slowly, drawn unwillingly toward Remus.

Oh, God. Sirius didn't want to see this, if they were about to fall on the floor in a desperate tangle of straining limbs and kisses and gasping moans...

Snape raised a hand, tentatively, his eyes never leaving Remus's - and the door flew open with a crash. Harry surged into the room, followed by Ron and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Sirius noticed with a pang of regret that Harry was taller now.

"Are you all right?" Harry blurted. The concern in his face was replaced by revulsion when he looked at Snape and saw the mask in his hand.

Snape turned and strode out.

As Sirius faded away, he heard Remus's voice, quietly reproachful. "Harry..."

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There were more Order meetings.

Sirius watched Snape watch Remus. Watched Remus watch Snape. Would they have always been like this, if he hadn't been between them, pushing, always pushing?

And still more meetings.

Finally there was an evening when Remus and Snape were alone again, sitting slumped across the kitchen table from each other. Sirius didn't know what had happened; another funeral, perhaps, or just too much strain, for too long to bear.

The worn, grey look on Remus's face chilled Sirius. What could he do? There was no one left for Moony...no one except Snape.

Snape, whose face was lined with exhaustion, but who was still watching Remus.

Sirius sighed. "Bugger it all. James, I should have listened to you..."

A log shifted on the fire.

Fortunately, he remembered the incantation - straightforward Latin, the simple words part of the deceptive simplicity that had led him astray. And surely it would work, even if no one could hear him... After all, what else was keeping him here?

Oh well. Only one way to find out.

"Cognatos animos indico," Sirius said quietly.

Remus uttered a sharp, startled cry of pain, and Snape half rose from his chair, one hand reaching for Remus even though he was still doubled over the pain in his own chest.

"Animos iungo."

Oddly, the pain in Sirius's own heart was fading, replaced by warmth as he watched Snape kneel by Remus's chair.

His last thought before the waves of warm lassitude that were sweeping over him pulled him away was that at least Moony wouldn't be alone anymore.