Anger

Klemet laughed. It resonated between the tiled restroom walls. He hung all over me, nearly too drunk to stand on his own feet. He sure took to alcohol badly for being a muscled chaser. Something wet pecked my neck and it took a couple of confused seconds before I realized it was Klemet kissing me. My lips were still pounding after the heated kiss I had just recently shared with Severus. Craning my neck I pretended it was to give Klemet better access, but it also allowed me to see behind myself. Peering at the dark shadow I saw Severus slowly materialize. He stood leaning up against the wall, arms folded across his chest and he cocked an eyebrow. I'd wipe the smug smile off his face if my arms hadn't been full of too-drunk boyfriend.

'What do you say to getting ourselves home?' I asked Klemet instead. He murmured something I interpreted as a positive answer. 'But only if you're sober enough to remember where I live.'

Klemet stopped his sloppy ministrations on my neck and glared hazily at me before mumbling something in Norwegian. It was hard to tell, but I thought it had to be some sort of swearing. 'Why?' he finally asked in English. 'I know where you live.'

'Then tell me, where do I live?' The alcoholic haze had begun to diminish and I could finally see things around me as singular objects instead of twos. I was also feeling really clever, asking Klemet for my address.

'You're an idiot,' contradicted Klemet my inner voice and then sighed. 'Fine. You live in a blue house just at the end of Phoenix Street, number 13, Godric's Hollow, United Kingdom. It's the house with all the garbage in the yard and with a grumbling Werewolf on the porch. Do I get to fuck you now?'

There was a soft snort behind me, but Klemet didn't seem to hear it.

The next day found the sun shining in through the bedroom window. It was the first really hot day that summer and warmed up the room until I was sweating so profusely I woke up. I was lying on my stomach; spread eagle with Klemet sprawled on top of me. He was snoring softly and the salty tang of his sweat stuck to my gums. Something was churning in the back of my head, but I couldn't really catch it. It had bothered me during the entire night like a buzzing mosquito. Finally it fell in place.

'Hey,' I grumbled, bumping Klemet until he began moving. 'Wake up.'

'Hae?' groaned Klemet, rolling off me and scrunching up his face at the punishing light of the sun.

'How did you know Remus was a werewolf?'

'Vat?' barked Klemet, cracking open one eye to peer at me. 'Vat're you talken'abo't?' His accent was so heavy I had to stifle a laugh.

'Last night you said I had a Werewolf on my porch, so how did you know about Remus?' Remus wasn't really the one to spew out his close kept secrets to just anybody. And even if I had been with Klemet for a bit over two months, he was just that; an anybody.

'He told me,' said Klemet, yawning and stretching. His hard won muscles bulged under his tanned skin.

'And... you don't care?' I asked incredulously. I'd expect anyone to run for the hills the second they got to know they shared a house with a Werewolf. I wouldn't really have blamed him if he did.

'Nah, why should I? He's clever; he locks himself up. So no worries. He's a good guy.' Klemet rolled around and onto the side, his back to me. Not really feeling the conversation over I opened my mouth to continue prodding, but a pointed snore shut it again. Fine.

The burning liquid contemplated stopping up short in my throat, but decided to glide down meekly after all. I coughed a bit never the less.

'Are you drinking now?' asked Remus who had come shuffling into the kitchen. 'It's eleven in the morning.'

'A bit of whiskey is the best cure for a hangover,' I answered, my voice gruff after having downed it right from the bottle. Securing the cap I opened the cold-room and nestled it in together with the Jack Daniels and Jägermeister. 'Want some?' I asked, but Remus merely scoffed, not deigning it worthy of a real reply.

'You need to get a job,' he said instead. 'There has to be something out there for you.'

Feeling all the happiness and optimism following a relatively early morning crash down into the basement I shrugged a shoulder. Remus never stopped nagging me about getting a job. I had enough savings to manage pretty well, at least for now. I owned the house I lived in, so not too many expenses there and Dumbledore made sure I was kept busy. Remus was just projecting his own disappointments. He didn't like to see me happy when he couldn't be.

'Want to do something tonight?' I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

'What?' grumbled Remus, 'I am not going out drinking with you.'

'We don't have to drink,' I said, 'we could... I don't know... Maybe we could invite James, Peter and Lily for dinner or something? Or-...' I flapped my arms in a helpless way. I couldn't really come up with anything that didn't at least partially contain alcohol at some point.

Remus capitulated. 'Dinner sounds nice,' he said, a soft smile gracing his lips. They didn't reach his eyes. 'I'll firecall Peter, if you firecall James and Lily.' I nodded satisfied, feeling my previous optimism rise again. 'Are you inviting Klemet too?' asked Remus then. A few seconds passed where I stared mildly at him before remembering.

'Klemet?' I laughed, trying to cover over my blunder. 'No, let's just keep it to the old gang.'

Now that Remus had something to do, considering we were inviting for dinner and did not have a scrap of food in the entire house, I had some time to myself. Klemet had left earlier that morning as always, he didn't really like to stay, and it was a peaceful Sunday. The entire wizarding community of Great Britain and Ireland were sleeping off their collective hangover after the game. I seemed to be the sole exception there I paced restlessly in front of the kitchen window. I was being stupid. Of course he wouldn't show up, and even if he did, it wouldn't be so soon. Maybe he showed up with his entire Death Eater squad. Now that would have been something. I forced myself to sit down by the table and leafed through the morning's Prophet. Nothing new; merely the same old shit and propaganda typed up in rude, bold letter with an overflux of exclamation marks. I liked to think that my upbringing had made me able to view both sides of the now heavily split society with a bit of objectivity. I knew everything about the purebloods and old family, how they were concerned with pride, heritage and status. But I also knew how it was to be a young and excited Gryffindor eager to make the world a little better. The difference between me and my fellow comrades was that I knew my concept of better wasn't shared by everyone. What we fought for would ultimately destroy everything the old families had struggled so long to hold onto. There didn't seem to be any middle way in this. One side would be eliminated.

The kitchen window had a view of the porch and the garden. Klemet was right; it was littered with crap. It was a nice and quiet neighbourhood. I especially liked that the opposite houses were painted in happy orange, yellow and green. Large evergreens hung over the hedges and little children were hanging upside down in them, not a care in the world. I could vaguely hear their laughter. Phoenix Street was located near the town centre, if Godric's Hollow had anything like a centre. It was different than London. Brighter, happier and full of potential. That's what Remus liked to say, when he had gotten turned down for yet another internship. He had begun muttering about whether to get a muggle job. For a wizard of his calibre that was nothing short of an all-time low. It was a sad day when the Wizarding community couldn't take care of their own.

Dumbledore was featured in the papers again. His image twinkled and glittered at me even if it was in black and white. He spoke of unity and bravery and that it greatly moved him to see how people would fight together in times like this. I felt vaguely inspired but forgot it once I turned the page. In the sports pages there were of course a long and extensive article on the game fought yesterday. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the picture spread over two whole pages of Klemet scoring the winning goal. He was full concentration on the broomstick, his black and white Quidditch robes billowing around him. For the viewers' pleasure the picture was in slow motion and you could distinctly see every muscle tense in his body as he reared up and threw the quaffle. It went past the keeper and through the ring. There was instant victory on Klemet's face; he knew he would make it. It was a good article, the one writing it obviously a Quidditch enthusiast and didn't forget to give the Kenmare Kestrels their due tribute. I read the entire thing carefully, especially the closing paragraph about the after-party. Nothing more was said about it than it being a rowdy success. Good. I was not ready for any public attention to Klemet and mine- I supposed relationship.

I looked out the window again, scanning all the shadows I could see. I was being silly. Finally getting up from the table I decided it was about time I did something constructive. It was already after two in the afternoon. Where did all the hours go? As an afterthought I threw my gaze out the window for the hundredth time and stilled. I couldn't believe the tall, slender man on the other side of the road, slouched against the hedge wall, seeming to the entire world as if he was bored out of his mind. A group of children ran screaming past him but a girl and a boy stopped to strike up some sort of conversation. Severus had his arms folded. I couldn't see his face but I was sure he wasn't being too happy about it. Quickly I grabbed one of the self-refilling quills in the cup by the window and scribbled a hasty note to Remus on a piece of the newspaper:

"Out for a walk. Back soon. Padfoot."

Sneaking out the backdoor so that neither he nor the neighbours would see me, I crouched down into my dog-form. It was always curious to adjust to the new colour scheme. Dogs cared about completely different things than humans, and as such their eyesight was prioritized differently. I could pick up much smaller movements, but the depth was not as refined. Pat-pat went my clawed paws down the short steps down to the flagstone path. The grass was high and tickled the soft skin delightfully. I was acutely excited. I knew it was the acute feeling of "pack" in the dog instincts kicking in. "Returning pack member", it said. The human part of me balked at this. Yet I was feeling mischievous and began galloping full speed around the house. Coming to the street I didn't really bother to check for oncoming traffic. It was Sunday; of course there would be no cars out. The two children were still chatting with Severus; it seemed a rather one-sided conversation. I gave a loud bark, watching as the kids startled with delightful screams. They turned around gawping at the impossibly large, black dog that came running straight towards them, for all purposes intent on eating them alive. The boy began crying and it looked like the girl was about to start too, but found the protective instinct somewhere and grabbed a hold of what had to be her little brother's hand. They spurted down the sidewalk, screaming all the while. I backed up and gave one last bark at them, wagging my tail and panting. Returning my attention to Severus I found him plastered against the hedge wall, eyeing me with not just a bit of disdain and fear. I barked at him too. He drew in a quick breath and made an involuntary movement with his right hand. My dog mind regarded it as a threat and my human mind recognized as the prelude of drawing his wand. Severus was dressed as a muggle, a very non-descript muggle at that. Perhaps a bit out of fashion, but most people were: regular jeans with a too large shirt and a darker v-sweatshirt. I sniffed at him curiously; my ears peaked and tail wagging slowly. He smelled like dust, dead plants, sunshine, perspiration (but all humans did) and underneath it all; alcohol. Probably from the night before. He had to have been drunker than me last night, what with the alcohol still so heavy in his system.

Carefully he reached out a hand and softly poked me between the eyes. I accepted the manhandling. The poking finger slowly followed the direction of the hairs from my forehead and to the top of my head. I often went on little walks as a dog and was used to maltreatment by people just coming to terms with the fact that a huge canine might not want to eat them after all. Eventually Severus patted me gingerly with the whole of two fingers, but he drew the line there and cradled his hand to his body just to make sure I wouldn't chew it off.

'I didn't remember you to be quite so large,' he said. My head reached him nearly to the chest and I poked my nose into his soft sweatshirt and blew out hot hair. A small smile graced his lips, but faded quickly. 'Tosser,' he murmured. Snorting one last time I turned and began padding down the sidewalk. I had walked perhaps five or six meters before turning and finding that Severus hadn't moved from his spot. I barked. Slowly he withdrew from the wall and began following me. Around the corner and across the street again I knew there to be a large park. At this time on a Sunday it was bound to be full of families picnicking or just taking a stroll, but I knew of plenty of places that were private enough for a chat with your previous school nemesis.

My favourite spot was behind a large bush just at the end of the park. The bench was placed right in a nook, camouflaged at nearly every angle. The overgrowth of foliage around the area placed the spot in shadow, becoming less attractive for people who wished to enjoy the little sun a British summer gave. Severus was being slow and I had to turn around and run around him in excited circles barking loudly more than once. Unfortunately this only seemed to slow him further. Eventually we arrived and I rose up on two legs just as Severus fell down on the bench. Carefully he massaged his temples; he was probably still suffering a hangover. Remus could say what he wanted but that whiskey was a lifesaver.

'I didn't think you'd actually show up,' I panted, throwing myself down next to him.

'You came quick enough to give the appearance of having kept a lookout,' said Severus snidely, looking at me from the corner of his eye. 'You were so obvious last night it tickled my curiosity. And again when I read the sports pages this morning I remembered the man slobbering all over you. Quite daring of you to be so open, but I suppose that's Gryffindors for you.'

'Heh... I am not usually that open,' I answered and to my surprise felt embarrassed. It wouldn't really matter much to me whether my sexuality got broadcasted, but I knew it could jeopardize Klemet's position on the team. Trying for a diversion I bumped Severus playfully on the arm. He finally turned with a raised eyebrow and looked me up and down. I grinned at him.

'What?' he asked.

'You just couldn't stay away,' I said, trying not to sound as victorious as I felt. Severus grew quiet and looked away again.

'Well...' he said at length pretending to be intently studying his nails, 'I guess I do have some masochistic tendencies.'

'Couldn't you just have said something along the lines of "oh but Sirius, it's because you're so devilishly handsome and charming, I just can't stay away!"' I asked, gratified to hear the soft snort of humour.

'I might be a Slytherin, but I don't lie unless I have to,' he retaliated easily. 'Actually, I am still interested in knowing my status with you.'

'Your status with me...?'

'Yes dunderhead. You're privy to some very delicate information regarding my person.'

'Regarding your... person?'

'For fuck's sake you saw me at the manor a couple of weeks ago,' huffed Severus, losing his patience. 'Since the aurors haven't hauled me off to Azkaban yet I am assuming it's because you've kept your mouth shut about it.'

'What do you think I was doing at the manor?' I asked carefully, trying to read something from Severus' closed off expression. All I could really recognize there was annoyance and disgust, but perhaps just a tinge of apprehension.

'Order of the Phoenix,' he said, forcing my heartbeat to an abrupt standstill before it began pumping ferociously again. 'You work for Dumbledore, don't you?'

'I-I don't know what you're talking about.'

Severus snorted. From where we sat you could faintly hear the loud screams of laughter from children playing and hopefully making good memories. 'Your organization isn't as secret as you'd like to think,' he said. 'So obviously I am wondering why you haven't done anything yet.'

'Are you sure you're a Slytherin?' I asked and stared at him dumbfounded. He turned his black gaze to me, a slight arch of the brow the only question mark he needed to make. I elaborated: 'You think you're in danger, so instead of scurrying underneath a rock and waiting until it's passed you go straight to the source? That's Gryffindor tactics, not Slytherin.'

He curled his upper lip in disgust. 'There's no reason for you to be so rude,' he commented, 'I haven't been calling you names.'

'Yes you have!' I countered, 'you've called me a dunderhead and a tosser and-'

'That is not name-calling; that is merely stating the truth.'

'Whatever,' I finally breathed in defeat. There was just no use engaging Severus in an argument. He merely did it to throw me off so that he might sneak out an answer or two in between jibes. 'You don't really know what I did at the manor, and I don't really know what you did at the manor. Let's just leave it at that.'

My answer must have startled him because he promptly shut his mouth and kept silent for a long while. Carefully he looked me up and down, seemingly seeing me properly for the first time since we met. He was taking in my torn jeans, tattered t-shirt and dirty boots. I hadn't bothered to comb my hair that morning, nor deal with the dark blue shadow from the beard. 'You-...' began Severus, but hesitated before continuing on. 'You have changed.'

I shrugged casually, mulling the words over in my mind. Severus wasn't the type to say such things unless he meant something by them. What would he care if I had changed, and even if I had, in what ways? 'Well, so have you,' I merely muttered, 'we grow up, don't we?'

'Rue the day I'd actually acknowledge you for an adult,' said Severus, back to his bantering. It should have irked me, perhaps, but it really didn't differ much from the name-calling and teasing we Marauders did to each other. Severus might hit the sore spot one too many times, true, and he had a way of saying it that gave you the distinct feeling his spit actually might be venomous, but I would have laughed if he said it to anyone else.

'So I'll stay a kid forever, then, if I just stick by you,' I said, 'I don't see how that can be so bad.'

'Like Peter Pan,' murmured Severus before he narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to me. I wasn't entirely certain what he did, but after a few seconds he straightened up again. 'You're still drunk,' he stated. It was not a question. I shrugged again. I didn't think I was drunk, I didn't feel like it, but I had downed a few good mouthfuls of whiskey a couple of hours ago, so why not. 'Obviously I am not going to get anything constructive out of you,' he hissed and got up from the bench. Taking another stride he was just about to apparate when I jumped up and took a hold of his wrist. With a tug I pulled him back to me. He unbalanced and fell heavily in to my chest, but before I could get a better grip he pushed and stumbled backwards. 'What the fuck Black?' he hissed, righting himself again, trying his best to regain composure.

'I am not done talking to you yet,' I said slightly urgently and winded. I knew I didn't want to see him go yet, but I didn't know why.

'Like hell you are,' he spat, 'I am done dealing with fucks like you.' The North English tilt coloured his speech heavily. To my surprise both his fists were clenched at his sides; I would have expected a wand pointing at my nose a long time ago. To postpone such a happening I raised my own hands, palms forward, to show I was unarmed. Severus merely narrowed his eyes again.

'It was a long night last night, alright?' I tried to placate, 'I've just not had the opportunity to sober up completely.' Quickly I lunged for his arm again, revelling in the feeling of his wiry muscles twisting as he tried to retract it. 'Calm down,' I said, trying to catch his black eyes, 'you're as wily as a snake.'

'Let go of me Black,' he said quietly, deadly. He was staring me full force in the face. He must have had a growing spurt sometime between sixth year and now, for when he previously hardly reached me to my shoulder we were now nearly at a height. His shoulders had broadened together with his chest and jaw. A man with power. I could feel it under the layers of clothes radiating at me. Power and so much anger. Too late I let go of the arm I was holding and tried to step back. The fist collided with my face with a crunch and my head snapped back painfully. My teeth bit down hard on the inside of the cheek and my lips got spattered with blood as I called out in pain and surprise. Something in me darkened. With a growl I pushed him hard, but he seemed to have anticipated it and grabbed a hold of the front of my t-shirt so that I fell to the ground with him. Scrambling up again I was just a little too late and a foot collided with my chest. The kick had so much momentum that it threw me backwards. I landed on my back with a thud and I was now completely out of air. In a rush Severus was on top of me, teeth bared and strong fingers clamping down on my windpipe. I sputtered, clawing at his arm trying to get it off me, but the lack of air made me weak. Trashing under him I coughed and wheezed. Somehow I managed to tangle my legs in between his and with a last desperate effort I moved sharply to the right. As luck would have it, this was just enough to loosen the grip around my throat and I rolled away. My lungs screamed for air and I tried to gulp it down, but the trauma to my windpipe still had it clamped down tight. Coughing hard once or twice I sat up on my knees, prepared to fight off whatever rage Severus had yet to dish out, but he was still lying on the ground, twigs and leaves stuck in his long hair. He was breathing heavily too, his left hand clenching and unclenching. The knuckles were already beginning to adopt a shade of blue. He must have hit me hard. Moving my jaw experimentally I could hear a tiny little click. Nearly disjointed.

'You sick bitch,' I breathed, my voice raspy. It hurt, damn it.

'You're one to talk,' retaliated Severus, his chest heaving. I couldn't have been more spent if we'd had vigorous sex there on the ground except I was a lot hornier. The sensation of burning pain in the chest and the tightening of my jeans were awkward, startling and not just a little bit confusing.

'You fight like a muggle,' I said, vocal chords straining and forcing me to cough raggedly. It felt like barbed wire was being dragged up and down my throat. I was hot.

'Yes,' conceded Severus, 'and you fight like a girl.' He still hadn't gotten up from the ground. Giving him a once over I realized it was because he was in the same predicament as myself. Definitely the strangest foreplay I had ever experienced.

Letting my urges dictate me I leaned down, softly touching Severus' stomach with the back of my hand, but before I could explore any further he rolled around and sat up. With a bit of difficulty he scrambled up on his feet, brushing off earth and leaves from his clothes and hair. I looked up at him, and because I couldn't stand the thought of seeing him walk away, I crouched into a dog and whined softly. I hadn't meant to do the latter. Severus stopped and looked down at me. It felt more alright for someone to look down on you when you were a dog; you knew you could wring their neck all the way around if you wanted to.

'Get back to your Quidditch star boyfriend,' said Severus. With a pop he apparated and I whined again, feeling very sorry for myself.