The Death Debt

Chapter 8

Sirius was terrified Lily was about to accuse him of conspiring with Snape to commit murder, not... not whatever it was she was implying. What was she implying? What did Sirius have to do with Adam Mulciber? The Mulcibers were an ancient family, not one of the Sacred 28 like Sirius, but very old nonetheless. Very Dark too, and notorious– their dreadful reputation continued to be passed down into Muggle folklore even after the Statute of Secrecy was enacted. John Milton had used the name Mulciber in Paradise Lost for the demon who built Pandemonium, Lucifer's palace in Hell.

Adam Mulciber looked like a fallen angel too. Handsome, well-built, reddish-blond curls and bright blue eyes. He was also a budding sadist in Sirius's opinion; he reminded Sirius too much of his cousin Bellatrix at times.

The Marauders had noticed when Snape started to hang around Mulciber more and more often since the middle of fourth year. It was hard not to notice; while most other students and prefects turned a blind eye to the constant fighting between the Marauders and Snivellus, Mulciber had no qualms about rushing to Snape's defense. He was almost gleeful about it, and he used those times to unleash some truly Dark hexes at them. The Marauders quickly learned not to mess with Snivellus when Mulciber was in sight.

And Snape... Snape looked at Mulciber as if he had hung the moon in the sky.

Snape did Mulciber's homework for him, he ran errands for him, he was Mulciber's worshipful dog and the Marauders had teased him mercilessly for it. "Looks heavy, maybe you should get your boyfriend to carry your books for you," Sirius had joked right before he had knocked Snape's stack of books right out of his hands. Everyone in the corridor laughed.

But it's not like Snape was actually gay.

Sirius had met a few queer men here and there, but they mostly belonged to the older Pureblood set. There were always rumours of how Lord Such-and-Such kept a male concubine in an apartment in London and his wife at home in the country, and the gossip surrounding the Headmaster and Grindelwald had been making the rounds since well before Sirius had been born. Sirius knew Uncle Alphard had a secret lover– secret not because his lover was another man, but because he was Muggle.

But he didn't know anyone his own age who was gay. It would be social suicide. Sirius had consumed his fair share of Muggle media– as did everyone in Hogwarts, including the staunch blood purists even if they wouldn't admit to it. Evan Rosier had made a big stink about only ever going to a 'proper' theatre when the actors were putting on something penned by a Wizarding playwright, only for Sirius to catch him sneaking into the movies to watch Jaws later that summer. Let's face it, none of those musty old plays have a giant shark biting people in half. For that, you have to go to the Muggles.

So, Sirius had seen plenty of movies and television. He had seen effeminate queens in too-tight t-shirts and talking with a lisp. He had seen how the other characters – the men, strong, handsome, lady-killers – recoiled with disgust. The image had become embedded in his mind. Sirius couldn't reconcile that with Snape. So what if Snape had long hair; so did Sirius, so did half the guys in their school. And maybe Snape wasn't athletic, and maybe he spent too much time with cauldrons, but that didn't mean he was effeminate. Some Muggleborns had laughed at Snape's propensity for potions; they seemed to think it was related to cooking, that it was somehow girlish, which Sirius didn't quite get but laughed along anyway. Because it was Snivellus and Sirius would use anything he could to make fun of him for. But potions were nothing like cooking; potions were, frankly, disgusting. Sirius hated having to slice into frogs and stick his hands into slime. But Snape loved it; Sirius would look over and see him wrist-deep in bat guts. That wasn't very effeminate.

Besides, Snape was also very good at dueling and Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was masculine. Stick Snape on a broom and he'd tumble off in five seconds flat, but put in a dueling ring and it was like watching an artist. All of that twitchy, spidery movements somehow translated into lightning-fast reflexes. Sirius had watched him in Defense almost in awe at the way he moved, his quick, strong movements, the sweat that gathered along his upper lip–