Poor Decisions (tag;; Sirius)

[severus]

This was… not what he had wanted. If he had known what being on his own was going to be like, he might not have stormed out of his house that night. It seemed like an eternity ago, though really it couldn’t have been more than a week, perhaps two at the most.

The day had been normal enough. His father hadn’t been home, and he had been spending his time in his room, re-writing some of the potions in his text book. It was all he could without being able to use his wand, and he was sure it would help him in the classes to come. Making potions better than the books always seemed to make Slughorn happy. Making him happy meant getting into the club, and getting to meet influential Slytherins in a more personal setting. He needed all the help he could get when it came to making connections, what with how awkward he happened to be socially. What would they think, if they knew who they were really talking to? A half blood who lived on the muggle side of the world, far from the magic he longed to be connected to. Someone who had an abusive muggle father, and no more mother. The only bit of magic he’d been able to hold onto, and she was gone. As far as they would be concerned, it would make him no better than a mudblood. So he couldn’t tell them the truth about his roots- it would ruin all hope of finally finding a place to belong to. A home to connect with. People who respected him. These things would not be lost, just because he had a shitty home life. He would do anything to preserve his shot at power. Anything.

A stupid idea, really.

That night, long after normal people crept into their beds, his father returned home, the stench of alcohol more than enough to warn Severus of trouble long before his old man stormed down into his room. However, there was no where to hide in a basement bedroom, the young Slytherin forced to face his father in a closed setting. Tobias immediately started on at him about his mother, and how Severus was the one responsible for her death, because he was so pathetic. He then went on to say how much he loathed his only son, and wished he had never been born. Though Severus tried to calm him, this particular alcohol-induced rage was far more profound than anything Severus had encountered before. He would not be calmed. Anything Severus said was immediately taken the wrong way and used as fuel to make the large, intimidating man even more angry. So angry, in fact, that Severus soon found himself having to dodge attacks, his father taking wild swings at him. His drunken steps allowed Severus to keep just out of the way, until his father swung his beer bottle instead of his fist, nailing the boy right in the head. After that, it was clobbering time, and he was the target.

Needless to say, Severus hadn’t been a big fan of the attack. Being left bruised and broken did not appeal to him, as some seemed to think, and he was thankful when his father finally stumbled off to bed. But that was the beating that broke the camel’s back- he couldn’t stay there when he knew he had his own future to think about. Clearly his father would only hold him back. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself his old man would one day change, it was hopeless- Tobias Snape didn’t love him. Never would. Time to move on.

Once Tobias was out like a light, Severus packed a backpack and took what money he could find in the house, slipping out without any note or goodbye of any kind. Time was time: time to try and make it on his own.

Worst decision in his life.

He had traveled as far as his money would take him, which, he found, was not a bright choice to make. Soon enough, he had no money for a place to stay, and no one seemed interested in helping out some random kid with greasy hair and a lot of black clothing. He ended up with no cash, a bag on his back, injuries all over his body and no place to stay.

Until he found a nice little park to make himself home in. How pathetic could he get? Staying in a park, freezing his ass off, no closer to the magical world he longed to live in. What had he been thinking? Even his abusive father seemed a better choice than sleeping on the grass, freezing to death. He felt sick, hungry, and weak, having gone quite some time without any kind of food. His provisions… hadn’t last more than a couple days. Coughing softly, the night once again looming upon him, the young Slytherins had to wonder how he was going to last until school started up again. What day was it, anyway? He didn’t even know when school was going to come upon him, much less how he was going to get back there. Pathetic. Truly, he had hit rock bottom. Coughing again, he curled into a defensive ball, trying to hide from the chilly wind under his robes. Maybe… maybe he should just go home.

Of course he knew he couldn’t do that. His father would seriously kill him, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Shivering, the dirty, hungry little hobo tried to get some sleep- it was going to be another long day of not feeling well enough to move tomorrow.

[madie]

Though Sirius could think of no logical reason for his wandering the streets so late, the confines of the Potter household were beginning to make him feel a little claustrophobic. He and James hadn’t been outside in days, a particularly involved quidditch strategy having resulted in in the two of them becoming hermits. Mr and Mrs Potter had barely seen them in days, the pair appearing only to take bathroom breaks and at mealtimes. Their antisocial behavior was boarding on ridiculous, and hence, the dog animagus had gone out for some air... as a human.

Walking aimlessly had always been one of Sirius’ favorite past times- the notion of having no destination bringing excitement to an otherwise mundane activity. At Hogwarts, walking aimlessly had landed him in trouble many a time, the boy finding himself amid the forbidden forest on more occasions than not. In Godrics Hollow however, the prospect was a little less dangerous. So long as Sirius took note of where he was headed, he could always find his way back, and getting lost seemed the worst possible outcome in the small, wizarding village. Nothing bad ever happened there.

Unluckily for Sirius however, finding his way back to the Potter’s would the least of his concerns that night. He had walked father than he had intended to, finding himself in a rather shifty area of town. Having ventured out of Godrics Hollow, the boy suspected he was now somewhere in muggle suburbia. If the white picket fences and garden gnomes were anything to go by that is.

As far as muggle neighborhoods went however, those neighboring Godrics hollow were pretty safe, picturesque really. Sirius’ definition of ‘shifty’ simply varied from most, anything unknown or strange being sorted into this category. Having grown up in the wizarding world, the muggle world was unfamiliar to him, the idea of living without magic being a foreign idea. It scared him a little, the unfamiliar, his parents having instilled a fear of all things alien into the back of his mind. Try as he might to shake it, there were still certain activities Padfoot refused to partake in at Hogwarts, or even outside Hogwarts for that matter. One of his muggleborn friends had tried to talk him into playing football once... only to find his friend unwilling to touch the football. He had been hit in the head with one as a child, his mother having blamed the entire ordeal on the ‘dirty muggle object’. Whilst he no longer believed footballs to be ‘filthy’, he still found himself unable to overcome the aversion. It was too deeply imbedded into his brain. In saying this, he had somehow been able to overcome his aversion of muggles. He supposed that he could justify his hatred of footballs on the proviso that they had actually done something to hurt him... Muggles, and even muggleborns and halfbloods in that sense, had done nothing of the sorts. Even if one had... he could hardly alienate an entire group of people for one individual’s actions. As far as Sirius was concerned, they were his equals – and he would continue to preach so until his dying breath. The boy even had intentions of becoming an auror after school, of taking a stand against the death eaters and their twisted ideals.

Making a beeline towards what looked to be a park, Sirius wandered farther away from the Potter residence. With the playground in sight, the boy picked up his pace a little, smiling like a small child. One was never too old for play grounds after all.

Before he managed to make it across the clearing however, a curled over figure caught his eye. Wrapped up in a torn blanker and doubled over like a beggar, the kid’s frame looked about ready to collapse in on itself. The boy couldn’t have been older than 17 or 18 in age, his body far too small and scrawny to belong to an older man. I pang of sympathy raged through Sirius’ body, a strange occurrence in itself, urging him to go over and check on the shivering boy. Removing his jacket, the marauder made his way across the park, face shrouded by darkness. The Gryffindor was unsure as to whether the boy had seen him yet, his figure barely having moved at all. His eyes seemed set on his own however, glazed over orbs staring off into the distance. Given the time of night, Sirius supposed he should have been sleeping... but the way in which his body slumped said otherwise. The boy was shaking far too much to relax anyhow... let alone rest.

”Here” Placing his jacket across the other boys shoulders, Sirius knelt down beside him. Rolling up the sleeves on his jumper, the disowned black heir reached for his wand, a wary hand moving to touch a rather nasty bruise on the boy’s left cheek. Like a shock of electricity, realization his Sirius like a brick wall. In an instant, what had once been a random act of kindness had quickly been turned on its head. The young Gryffindor had done the unthinkable after all. He had helped Severus Snape.

”You’re either stupid, suicidal or just plain desperate,” The boy explained, ”But in any case... you shouldn’t be outside”. Sirius’ tone was so soft that it almost took him off guard, after all, never before had he taken such a tone with Severus Snape. This was perhaps the first real conversation the two of them had where neither was yelling. ”You’re freezing cold, you need to move before you freeze to death” He said, their schoolyard feud being the farthest thing from his mind in that instance.

[severus]

Severus might have jumped when he felt something around his shoulders, if he felt he had the energy to do so. But he had been so caught up in his own thoughts, and his own shivering, that he had barely noticed the gesture. He just hoped it wasn’t someone come to kick him from his spot again- it was always annoying having to run from cops or other homeless people who were interested in his clearly comfortable spot on the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be either of those, as normally he didn’t receive something nice with their visits. Someone had placed something warm over him, which he was immediately thankful for. He kept his eyes closed, just drinking in the warmth for a moment as he tried to tell the shaking in his frame to go away. He didn’t care, at that moment, who was helping him, he was just glad someone finally seemed nice enough not to kick a wounded puppy while it was down.

And then he heard that voice.

He had missed it the first time, too lost in his own little world, but when his helper spoke again, he instantly knew who he was dealing with. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was Sirius Black who had happened upon him. Of course, he opened his eyes anyway, if only because he couldn’t trust keeping them closed around someone who had always been such a threat to him. This guy… why was he there? In a muggle park? In a muggle city? This wasn’t his world. It was the one place Severus had always felt safe from people like Sirius Black. Was nothing sacred?

Seriously, whatever forces were keeping track of things from above, they absolutely loved messing with him. He couldn’t seem to catch a break to save his life. And, unfortunately, it really was getting to the point where he needed to catch a break to save his life.

Severus watched Sirius, even his glazed, tired eyes holding some of their former hatred as he tried his best to glare at the boy. Admittedly, it was probably far too late to pretend like he was fine and save face in front of the Black, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He wanted to tell the other to shove off and that he was just there to get some air before going home. But… the words weren’t coming out. All he could do was sit there and shiver, taking far too much comfort in the jacket Sirius had provided for him. It was something the kid could hold over his head for an eternity, and he wasn’t shrugging it off. Why? Because he knew Sirius was right? He frowned, looking away from the boy again when Sirius informed him that he needed to get out of the cold. Like he didn’t know that. He just needed to tell his rival to go to hell or something, then he would be left alone again.

“I don’t… have anywhere to go…” he said faintly, his voice much weaker than he would have liked it to be in front of someone like Sirius Black. Also: that had not been what he had wanted to say at all. Not only did it show Sirius that he was weak and pathetic, it made him realize how bad his situation really was. Why couldn’t he have told him to shove off, like he had wanted?

“You must be pleased,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again, “… seeing me like this.”

[madie]

As much as Sirius might have despised Severus Snape, never in a million years would he have been pleased to see him in such a state. Not once had he ever really intended on harming the boy, at least not intentionally. Sure, it might have seemed that way... the Whomping Willow incident had been enough to convince his friends so after all. But it had been an accident, a slip of the tongue. Well... not exactly but, it was not as if he had intended for Snape to get hurt. He never did. Sirius simply didn’t think things through when he was in a mood... and Severus had caught him in a mood- obviously. He had been upset about one thing or another, and had wanted to take his frustrations out on someone else, admittedly, someone undeserving. Unfortunately for Snape however, he had pushed his buttons a little too hard... and Sirius had snapped. The chaser had regretted uttering the words almost as soon as they had left his lips, but by that point it had been too late.

Sirius supposed he at least owed it to the boy to keep him company; after all, he had almost ended his life that night. He owed him this- and plus, it was not as if he could just leave him to freeze to death now, could he?

Had the Potter house not been so far away, Sirius would have offered him a bed for the night... but Severus hardly seemed in any fit state for walking. Settling on the floor beside him, he pulled off his hoodie instead, less worried about his own wellbeing and more about the wellbeing of his rival. It was funny really, how easily Sirius could put aside their schoolyard feud when it mattered most. Well... at least for tonight. Come tomorrow he would be back to hating the slimy git’s cuts. ”Here,” he said, passing the boy his jumper, ”Just don’t leave grease stains on the hood”

Sirius simply sat beside the boy then, at a complete loss for what to do. The darkness at least made things a little less awkward. Mind you, the darkness also made it a lot easier for Severus to hide how bad the situation really was. The Gryffindor knew just how easy it was to hide injuries after all, experience alone telling him to be wary. Pulling out his lighter, he turned towards the boy, taking a better look at the bruise on his cheek. ”Who hit you?” He asked seriously, face contorting slightly. A horrible feeling of recognition washed over him, a feeling of dejavu- only this time, he was in another set of shoes. Was this what it had felt like that night James had come to rescue him?... or better yet, was this where he would have ended up if he hadn’t?

”You ran away...” He mumbled to himself, not really meaning for Snape to overhear. ”Of course you did...” Speaking a little louder this time, Sirius found himself filled with a new sense of purpose”,hop up”. He couldn’t leave Snape here like this... he just couldn’t. James had saved him after all... it wasn’t fair to leave Snape to face this alone. As much as he hated the boy, there was no justice in that. Where they were headed he had no idea... but anywhere seemed better than here.

Oh dear merlin... was he really doing this... was he really about to help Severus Snape. What in the world was wrong with him?

[severus]

Severus didn’t have it in him to make Sirius go away, and nor could he stop the other from sitting down beside him. He could only frown and hide his face away behind his arms, which he had wrapped over his chest-drawn knees. It helped calm the shivering, and he could do his best to make sure Sirius didn’t see just how battered he was. Not that it mattered- he imagined Sirius wouldn’t care one way or another. He’d done everything in his power to humiliate him in the past. Hell, he even tried to kill him. Why should Severus care that he see him now, in such a state? So what if it was more ammo to be teased about? He wasn’t even sure he would be able to get back to Hogwarts at that point.

Maybe he just needed to focus on finding some way out of his personal hell, and worry about Sirius and the like afterwards.

He didn’t take the jumper that was offered to him, if only because the comment reminded him of who was offering it to him. Even with a fever, he knew better than to take things from Sirius Black. This seemed a little awkward, putting it mildly. There he was, beaten to all hell and sitting next to him was his greatest rival. Yet things weren’t getting worse for him. Not yet, anyway. He had to wonder what was going on.

Maybe he was hallucinating.

By the time Sirius asked him who had hit him, he had stopped considering that he was there with his enemy. Things had gotten quiet between them, and Severus had returned to thinking about his own miserable life. If Sirius wasn’t there to cause trouble, then maybe he could deal with other things. Maybe work up some strength to run the hell away if need be. In any case, he had let his mind slip away from the situation at hand, the boy responding before his head had a chance to catch up again.

“My father,” he replied lowly, admitting something he probably wouldn’t have under any other set of circumstance. He would have let Sirius torture him for a week than tell him anything about his personal life. Normally. Realizing the error he had made, he sank a little more into himself, not responding when Sirius asked him if he had run away. But he didn’t need to answer- Sirius already knew what was going on without him saying anything about it. He didn’t need to explain anything. Maybe Sirius understood needing to get away- he didn’t exactly fit in with his family, either. But why should Severus think about how they might relate to one another? He just wanted to be left alone to shiver, not find things in common with his mortal enemy.

This was all too much for him to take.

When Sirius got up, Severus found himself getting to his feet as well. Not because Sirius had asked him to, of course, but because he had instantly assumed he would need to defend himself. But Sirius’ tone… it didn’t seem to suggest he was going to do something evil. Not from what Severus could take from it, anyway, and he was usually good at picking up things from people’s voices. Frowning, suspicious, he leaned a hand against the tree he had been sat near, using it for support as he wearily watched the Gryffindor. “What are you doing?” He demanded in as tough a voice as he could muster.

“I’m not in the mood for any games…” the mood or the condition.