Some Day | Wolfstar

Nineteen

Finding the cure was a lot more difficult than brewing up a batch of potions. They had no way of testing its effectiveness.

"There's only one last vial of Blackroot potion left." Severus produced a very small, slender glass bottle with a dark purple liquid inside of it.

"Whom do we give it to?" Sirius asked. Severus gave him a look. "Use your brains, Black. Find a way."

Sirius frowned. They were on the third floor. It was a restricted section of the school, but Sirius had been there before. So had James, Remus and Peter. There were enough abandoned classrooms to safely conduct there experiments inside.

Sirius sighed. "We can't do it to a person," he declared. Severus said nothing. He watched Sirius pull his wand from his hair, his glossy curls tumbling down in a black cascade.

Sirius Black had always had a taste for theatre.

Sirius looked around him, and his eyes fell on the chair right next to him. He moved away from it a little. Severus watched, rendered curious by the newfound sparkle in Sirius' grey eyes.

He raised his wand, pointing it at the chair. A blue white light spread from its tip and shot out on to the chair. Severus watched, arms crossed.

When the bright light died down, an old man sat on the floor instead of the chair. Sirius looked at Severus. The chair, being an inanimate object, had no soul. Therefore, Sirius had essentially procured them a  hollow body - an empty vessel. Perfectly useful for medicinal experiments, all the while crossing no ethical boundaries.

Severus was rightly impressed. Sirius Black was rumoured to be exceptional at Transfiguration, as was James Potter. He really did live up to his name.

"Your turn, Snivellius."

***

"Don't you think you could hurry up, Snivellius?"

"Don't you think you could quiet yourself, Black?"

Sirius banged his head on the table out of frustration. It was their third day on trying to find a reversal agent for Nigrae radicae. They had made very little progress. Every time something worked, it would either lose its effect upon combination with another ingredient, or its effect would be either too weak or temporary.

Severus raised his head to look at Sirius. He let out a sigh. He wanted to say something. To be of comfort. But he couldn't.

He turned back to the book in front of him, and started skimming along the words. Something was missing. He threw the book away in frustration, seeing that it was of no use. It landed with a soft thud. Sirius didn't react.

Severus tugged at the sleeves of his robes, and sighed.

"Black," he called. No response. "Hey, Black."

He reached over to give the sleeping boy a shove, but stopped short. His left arm was turned wrist-up in a presumably quite uncomfortable position. What made Severus freeze was not the pain it was bound to cause Sirius once he woke up, but the dozens of small burn marks scattered all the way up his hand. Some of them were annular, others appeared as solid discs.

Severus traced them with his finger.

Sirius stirred. He stretched, and sat up. He noticed what Severus had been looking at. His face drained of the little colour it had. Severus was almost tempted to offer him some calming draught.

Almost.

He watched Sirius fumble for his wand. There was no plausible way for him to have accumulated so many burns of that sort. Not only were they deliberate, but also precise.

Could it be?

Severus sought Sirius' mind. An image of a cigarette pressing into skin flashed in front of his eyes. He tried to reach deeper, but Sirius' mind was too busy to make sense of.

"I can heal them." The words were out before he could think them through. Sirius looked at him, his pale face showing obvious signs of turmoil.

So much of pain...

Sirius held his gaze for a while, then shook his head. "I... I like them."

Severus frowned in distaste. Sirius didn't seem affected by his reaction.

Severus took hold of his arm anyway, and pulled it forward. Sirius frowned at the coldness of his touch, but didn't fight back. He kept his eyes trained on Severus' face as he very slowly traced his wand over the numerous marks.

They blended into his skin in the wake of the wand's touch.

Severus put his wand away and rolled Sirius' sleeve up twice more to expose all the marks. He effortlessly concealed them. "Use a Concealment Charm or a Disillusionment Charm. Concealing might be easier." Severus said after he was done. He withdrew his cold fingers from Sirius' skin.

"I did... it wore off. I forgot to put it on again."

Severus looked at him, but didn't say anything. He stood up. Sirius pointed his wand at the chair-man. It turned back into its original lifeless form with a soft rattle.

"Tomorrow." Severus turned to leave.

"Snape!" Sirius called, and he turned back. "Thank you." Sirius said softly, rubbing the skin on his arm. Severus' dark eyes fell on to his. He looked as if he would say something. But he never did. With a dramatic flourish of his billowing cloak, he disappeared. A heartbeat later, the book he'd thrown away flew out the door after him.

***

It was the thirteenth day of potion brewing with Severus. They talked less, brewed more. Every couple days, Severus took it upon himself to renew the concealment charm.

Sirius sighed as he watched their test subject lay unmoving despite Severus' potion. He flipped through the scrolls Severus had given him mindlessly. He didn't even know what he was looking for. He bit his lip as he looked out the window into the boundless night.

Regulus...

A sudden realisation made him gasp out. "Severus!"

Severus looked up from where he was sitting. Scrolls of parchment were scattered around him. He raised an eyebrow at being called by his name, but didn't speak of it.

"I think I know what we're missing." Sirius looked at him, eyes sparkling. Severus waited for him to reveal his epiphany.

"Nigrae radicae is contracted as a result of a spell combining with a potion, right? Then the cure for it must require two components too," he said, face aglow with the dawn of new possibilities and renewed hope.

"A potion and a spell," Severus said. He watched Sirius' face break into a bright smile. Severus wouldn't have dreamed of such a smile coming his way from Sirius Black.

In any case, Severus didn't share Sirius' optimism. There were thousands of spells they would have to go through. Not to mention finding the right potion. But it was progress nonetheless. Much needed progress. For almost two weeks, they'd been relentlessly searching for a cure, barely sleeping if at all. Severus had brewed two cauldrons of Wideye potion to keep the two of them awake during lessons.

He looked at Sirius Black once again. Sirius Black with his obnoxious hair. Sirius Black with burns on his skin. Sirius Black who was James Potter's best friend. Sirius Black who was the disowned heir of the noble Black Family. Sirius Black who was hopelessly in love with Remus Lupin.

Severus would have been lying if he were to say that Sirius Black hadn't grown on him.