Title: Freedom’s Song
Rating: Teen or 15+
Summary: The war is done…and all the survivor’s can do now is live for those who died. One man, torn by grief, remembers the one who left him behind.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Sirius and Snape would have shagged from the very beginning. So no…I don’t own anything…grrr…
“Tonight we all gather to remember the warriors who sacrificed their lives to end this war. We owe them everything. I ask that you all raise your glasses in remembrance.”
Dumbledore’s voice rang over the hall, traces of sadness lingering in his grandfatherly baritone. Sniffles and sobs could be heard as everyone raised their glasses in respect. No one spoke; this moment was too important for idle chatter. The headmaster cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the knot that had settled there. His students, his children, young and old. So many had been lost, each taking a piece of his heart with them.
“Remembrance is the theme tonight. To remember their great deeds as they watch us from above. Houses mean nothing tonight. We are all one…in our grief. Tonight, we honor those who were lost. Now, I have someone who wants to say a few words. Severus, if you will?”
Gasps of surprise rang across the hall as a tall, lanky man rose stiffly to his feet. His normally greasy black hair fell in soft waves past his shoulders, and his black eyes glowed with emotion. He limped slightly to the front of the stage, watching but not caring of the reactions around him.
“I’m not really sure how to start this,” he mumbled, his normal confidence gone. He turned slightly towards a young man whose black hair hid glimmering emerald eyes. Harry smiled and motioned him to begin.
“Speak from the heart,” he mouthed. Taking a deep breath, Severus nodded. He turned back to the front and cleared his throat.
“I’m the potions master here at Hogwarts, as all of you know. I am also a former Death Eater,” he stopped at this after hearing the angry murmurs at the mention of that title.
“After making some mistakes in my youth, I joined He Who…Voldemort. After the unfortunate deaths of Lily and James Potter, I went to Dumbledore for help. For the twenty-five years I spied for him, getting into the inner circle of the Death Eaters. To find information to somehow help our cause. But mistakes were made, as they usually are in war. And I lost someone very important to me. He was one of the first casualties on our side, but his death was hidden from the world. Only a few remembered him, and mourned his death. He didn’t deserve his death, like so many after him. He didn’t even get a proper burial.”
Severus stopped, his eyes blurring with his tears. The salty drops streaked down his cheeks, surprising all that didn’t really know him. This was Hogwarts’ feared Potion’s Master, the one who never showed real emotions. He only showed sarcasm, anger, and scoffed at those around him. This man was different; he couldn’t be the same Severus Snape.
“His name was Sirius Black. He was convicted of the murders of thirteen people and Peter Pettigrew. As you all know, last month Pettigrew was captured by Aurors and executed. The new Minister of Magic, Author Weasley, pardoned Sirius Black and declared him innocent. But Bla…Sirius didn’t appear to enjoy his freedom. He couldn’t. His stupid body is lying behind a bloody rug! That stupid git got himself killed showing off for his godson and his lover! And now he can never feel the sun on his face like he wanted. He can never be a free man.”
Severus’ body shook with barely suppressed anger, the tears still running down his face. A small hand slipped into his, and he glanced over at his adoptive son, his lover’s godson. Harry smiled sadly up at him and whispered:
“I think you are supposed to say nice things about him, not berate him for the fool that he was.”
Snape sighed and squeezed his hand back as his answer. He raised his glass, which had been almost broken in his clenched fist.
“To Sirius Black, and all those who lost their lives. All hail the victorious dead.”
The room echoed his sentiments; no eyes were dry as they drunk from their glasses. The Potions Master let go of his son’s hand and turned away from the crowd. His own glass slipped from his hand and shattered to the ground, the sound being lost in the dull roar that now surrounded him.
“To the man I loved,” he whispered and wiped his face.
“And the man that still loves you.”
The familiar bass rang in his ears and his eyes widened with shock. He slowly turned, tears gathering as a man stepped closer to him. A hush fell over the crowd, each person wanting to see the reaction of Snape.
His obsidian hair fell in waves to his waist, tied back with only a leather string. His eyes, as clear as the sky on a warm summer’s day, smiled up at him as he strode closer to the stage. His muscular body was the same as Severus remembered, and his hands itched to retrace the lines he had long ago memorized.
“So Snape, what was this about me being a ‘Stupid Git’?”
His answer was a warm body as it tackled him to the floor.
Okay…um…I really have no clue. Please Review!