The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

Chapter XXVIII: The Disappointed Idealist

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Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist.
—GEORGE CARLIN

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"Looking good, Severus," Aeliana greeted as he stormed out of Malfoy Manor, his robes flapping like a bat behind him.

She rose from where she'd been sitting on the stone steps just outside the door, casually brushing herself off, and followed after him. Severus had been looking under the weather for days. If Lia didn't know any better, she'd m say he was going to transform into a werewolf any day now, though he'd always fit better as a Vampire in her imagination.

"Severus," she repeated, grasping his shoulder and forcing him to stop. "What's the matter? You've been acting odd." As an after thought, she added, "Even for you."

To be honest, she wasn't exactly sure if she cared. Her only real friend in this serpentine hellscape was a few weeks dead and she was forced to pretend that nothing had ever happened, forced to make as though her heart were made of stone just to fit in. So what did she care if Severus was upset over something? Maybe it was because Lia was nosy or trying to subconsciously gather information, or perhaps she found it refreshing to see actual emotion amongst these emotionally repressed gargoyles, but she wanted to know what upset him.

"Let me go," he snarled, jerking away.

Lia raised a brow. Perhaps he was slightly more distressed than she originally bargained for.

"Severus, come on. You can tell me what's bothering you. We're friends," she argued, still trailing after him.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, finally stopping to swing around and face her head to head. "The way you always tell me what's bothering you? Because you've told me why you've been looking so sick these past months? Because you told me why, for weeks, you would just stare off blankly whenever you would walk by?" He poked her, hard, in the chest after each question, forcing her back as he continued walking forward. "Or because you told me when-"

"I get it," Lia interrupted, swatting his hand away.

"Then why should I bother telling you anything?" he asked, breathing heavily, his face perhaps a foot from her own.

"Because you want to, Severus," she reasoned, pulling him down by the hand to sit beside her against a tree, and handing him her hip flask. Even though it was hypocritical, she said, "I've never seen you so upset. It's not good to keep so much to yourself." He didn't say anything for several moments, so she felt inclined to continue. "No matter what it is, Severus, I won't judge you, and maybe I can even help."

Possibly not the best promise to make to a Death Eater, but as far as Death Eaters went, Severus wasn't overly sadistic or cruel. He was merely cold, at times.

He didn't say anything for for what felt like an icy eternity, but didn't leave either. He took a long drought out of the flask, as if it were water given to a dying man in a desert.

"He's going to kill Lily," he finally rasped after what appeared to be some great internal struggle.

Lia froze, disbelief briefly colouring her expression. Seriously? He was going to try and kill Lily again? Voldemort spared an unnecessary amount of his time and resources trying to murder the Potters, in her opinion. They were going to blow her cover if she kept needing to rescue them.