Old Ghosts

The werewolf is late again, Severus noted with a marked lack of surprise. Damn Remus anyway, always showing up breathless and twenty minutes late only to make continued excuses about his busy life and how he simply couldn't get away before he got those fourth year essays graded. As if, Severus frowned at the thought, as if his life is anything near the complicated web mine is fast becoming. He had blood on his hands, though it was mostly washed off so no one would notice unless the scrutinised and saw the stains under his fingernails. There was also a large, hand-print shaped bruise on one cheek which was fast becoming a completely unacceptable shade of purple and to top it off he had been followed for the last half of an hour by a small cluster of raggedy Muggle children, beseeching him for coins. At least the Muggle compact disc player (he thought that was the name) worked. It was currently blasting a wild form of music Severus had not heard in the wizarding world but took to immediately nonetheless, which was giving everyone around him a splitting headache as it blared from his headphones. The volume made Severus himself smile.

"Now you can go where people are one, now you can go where they get things done," Severus sang tunelessly in a low voice as he meandered through the streets, giving dirty looks to the men garbed in what appeared to be flaming orange togas. They were standing there, doing nothing at all, yet foolish Muggles with rapturous expressions on their faces were giving them bowls of rice. Severus glared. He had never subscribed to a very strong work ethic, but he did not understand why such lazy people ought to be rewarded. Muggles, he thought, shaking his head, they really are crazy. He continued past, murmuring the lyrics to the song that was playing. It was really quite catchy, for a Muggle tune. "What you need my son, what you need my son, is a holiday in Cambodia."

Out of the corner of his eye Severus saw Remus Lupin gaping at him. The professor looked even more careworn then usual, his hair streaked with what was undeniably grey and his clothes faded as if they had been washed far too many times. His seemed fine, however, except for the fact that his mouth was moving as though he was shouting.

"I cannot hear you," Severus informed him haughtily, humming under his breath. "It's a holiday in Cambodia, where you'll do what you're told."

Remus shook his head, gesturing wildly.

"I said, I can't hear you, you stupid git," Severus snapped loudly.

Impatient looking, Remus reached forward and pulled the headphones away from Severus's ears. "You were not really just singing 'Holiday in Cambodia' were you?" Remus demanded, looking stricken.

"Why shouldn't I?" Severus countered. "We are in Cambodia, after all, though I would not refer to this as a holiday." He shook his head. Why on earth had he chosen Lupin of all people to be his contact within the Order? Taking a quick mental inventory of the members, Severus shrugged, deciding Remus was the best one after all. Arthur Weasley would never pay attention to the reports Severus gave them while they were in the Muggle world, Molly would fret and bemoan Severus's fate, Nymphadora...well, Severus thought to himself with a smirk, she did not bear that name for nothing. He wondered momentarily if she would try to seduce him if they were contacts together and made himself a mental note to spend more time around her in order to find out. Not that I can stand her, of course, half-blood filth, he thought to himself with a righteous nod, but she is a Metamorphmagus. Maybe she can make herself look like Lily. For a moment he wondered why other Mudbloods and half-bloods sickened him when Evans never had. Then he glanced up into Remus's impatient golden stare and pushed the thought away.

"Severus," Remus began, but he settled for shaking his head in a disgusted way and clicking his tongue against his teeth. After a minute he sighed. "I didn't know you liked the Dead Kennedys."

Blinking in confusion, Severus frowned, wondering how by Merlin anyone as mild as Remus Lupin, whose idea of adventure was consuming tea and lemon tarts with wolfish ferocity, could possibly know anything about the music Severus had just been listening to.

A moment later, Severus guessed his face must have betrayed his absolute shock, for Remus smiled a little smile that did not quite reach up to his copper-coloured eyes and shrugged, replying with the familiar answer Severus was already tiring of. "Sirius liked it a lot. I guess it rubbed off on me."

"You and Black," Severus spat, shaking his head. What had the werewolf seen in someone like Sirius Black? Sirius Black who tried to murder me, his mind whispered hatefully, the vicious bastard.

"Does it bother you, Severus?" Remus questioned, his expression open and kind. Concern glinted in his eyes as he surveyed the other man.

Severus could not help but notice that no judgement was harboured there in Remus's eyes. Another reason to choose him as a contact, Severus's mind informed him quietly. Severus received more then his fair share of judgement and hostility, he did not need to face even more when delivering vital information to the Order. "Why should it bother me?" Severus inquired, his voice hostile.

"I'm not sure," Remus admitted with the same understanding look. "Why don't you tell me?"

It was an offer, not a challenge, Severus noted. An invitation to speak his mind without being either told what to do or criticised for his own opinions; it was a rare thing nowadays. Even Dumbledore had become meddlesome, dipping his long nose into Severus's affairs and twisting his own feelings against him. Like his comment about Lily, Severus thought, his hands clenching at the memory. Of all the things Albus Dumbledore will never understand, the fool. "I hate Black," Severus declared with emphasis after a moment. "Hated him then, hate him still. I trust I do not have to supply you the multitude of reasons."

"No, you don't," agreed Remus calmly. "I recall numerous times when Sirius mistreated you. You are justified in your dislike of him, for all the good it does you. Do you feel the same hatred of me?"

"Why would I?" Severus asked, puzzled. He thought back to his school days, painful and embarrassing though they were to remember. Life back then had been a constant progression between one tormented moment to the next; even now, many years later the humiliation sometimes bit into him as he taught. For all the incidents he could recall of Black and Potter teasing him or worse, he could not remember a single time Remus had participated. "You never took part in Black's little games."

Nodding slowly, Remus cast his eyes down. "Yes, well, I let him get away with it. I was a prefect and I never -- anyway," he finished, taking a breath. "I had a responsibility to look out for everyone, not just my friends. I believe I failed in that."

Severus shrugged. "I doubt it matters greatly in the scheme of things, Remus. There is a war on, in case you've forgotten. Petty childhood torments are not really much of a factor in my life anymore." Liar, his mind hissed, but Severus had tired of his own thoughts speaking out against him. He ignored the subtle, serpentine hiss of his own subconscious, his eyes cold as he forced himself not to dwell. "Murdering innocents has a fascinating way of putting a disappointing childhood into perspective."

"Forgive me if I continue to take responsibility," Remus answered quietly. "I feel -- and you may doubt this, Severus, but I feel it nonetheless -- partially at fault for the choices you made upon leaving school. Perhaps if I had stopped James and Sirius...well, only you know the answer to that." He paused, looking serious and a bit nostalgic. "I would like to offer my hand to you in friendship now. Whatever you thought of my friends and I in school is over now. They are dead, I'm not. Besides, I cannot speak for you, but there are times when I could use the company." His eyes glistened in the sunlight, brighter then usual as he held out his hand.

Narrowing his eyes, Severus tried to figure out whether or not it was a trap. What could the werewolf, Remus, his mind corrected, possibly want to be friends for? For a few moments he stood silent, torn between conflicting parts of himself. He thought back to his years as a student, of the various people had approached with a similar offer his first year, how many times he had been turned down. By third year he had quit trying, preferring, or so he had told himself, the cold isolation of the classroom. Remus stood before him now, his eyes filled with warring emotions and hope, and Severus knew that he had finally found someone willing to offer their own hand, willing to face rejection to befriend him. And not just anyone either, but Remus Lupin, whom even Severus had to grudgingly admit was intelligent and good natured. He took Remus's hand, giving it a quick shake before pulling away from the touch as if burned. "Fine. Friends then," he managed to say without sneering, although that self-protective part tried quite hard to twist his lips into the familiar expression. He settled for looking contemptuous and bored. "That's finished."

"Yes," Remus agreed. He looked very relieved, which surprised Severus. Had the werewolf -- His name is Remus, snapped his mind, come on Severus -- had Remus honestly expected Severus would turn him down? Remus had always struck Severus as rather solitary, but never as fearful. He wondered if his perfected look of disdain had actually become convincing as time wore on.

"I still have a report to deliver," Severus said to cover the awkwardness of the moment. "Friends or not, it would be preferable if we could stop wasting time rehashing pointless schoolboy memories."

"Good idea," Remus said quickly, letting out a nervous breath. He had been convinced that Severus would deliver his usual contemptuous obloquy the moment Remus stuck out his hand, but on the whole, the other man was behaving quick nicely. Severus and punk music, Remus mused. I must remember that; works better then a sedative. It must help with those rage issue of his. "Would you like a drink? I'm dying of thirst."

"Werewolves have a tendency to dehydrate quicker then regular wizards," Severus stated firmly, glad for the opportunity to share a bit of the knowledge he had picked up studying the Dark Arts over the years in hopes of securing the job he so desperately wanted. He did not miss the hint of a smile on Remus's lips. Of course he knows that. "I noticed a bar a ways back."

Twenty minutes later there they were, sitting opposite one another in bamboo stools while Severus laid out the Dark Lord's latest plan and Remus took copious notes on a pile of crumpled napkins. To his credit, the bartender only looked at them once, apparently choosing not to notice the rather canine air of the man with the ethereal eyes scribbling on ragged bits of paper with a peacock feather quill. Severus sipped an elaborate concoction of fruit juices and wine decorated with cherries speared on a pink paper umbrella, his eyes dark and oppressive as if daring Remus to make a sly comment. Remus politely refrained and settled for sipping his tea.

"I suppose Dumbledore has not made the least headway into planning an evacuation of Hogwarts," Severus mused aloud. "The ignorant fool, cowering behind those optimistic beliefs of his."

Remus shrugged, swatting at a mosquito that buzzed past. "Albus has never steered us wrong, Severus. I have trust in him. He'll take the proper precautions, but he must move slowly, discreetly. As you yourself said, the school is now full of Voldemort's spies. If any of the children loyal to him indicate trouble with the plans they will know there has been a leak."

Severus sneered, unable to disguise his contempt for the Headmaster anymore. "And Potter? He's not been moved either, has he?" At Remus's apologetic look Severus glared, crushing his hand into a fist. "Albus cannot wait much longer. Does he not understand the danger Potter is in? I cannot be at Voldemort's side every moment like Lucius Malfoy is. What if Voldemort issues the order for Lucius's son Draco to kill Potter, what then? All this effort will be for naught."

"I'm certain --"

"But I'm not," Severus cut Remus off, his lips drawn back as he bared his teeth in conscious frustration. He slapped the table with one hand, ignoring the sting of pain through his jolted bones. "Does he believe I am here risking my life for fun? I continue to warn him of encroaching danger, and instead of moving Potter -- there are a million ways," he said abruptly, changing gears. "Pretend Potter is hospitalised. Pretend one of his Muggle family members died. Expel him, something! Instead, the inane plan is to leave him open and unprotected, where any time Draco Malfoy draws his wand --"

"He is not unprotected," Remus said reassuringly. "Severus, the Headmaster understands why you are out here, spying for us. He knows you mean to save Harry, he knows why..." Remus trailed off, suddenly wishing he could clap a hand over his mouth and catch the words.

Not one to miss even the most subtle hints, Severus looked over at Remus crossly. "What does he know?"

We might have sent a drunken Hagrid out to keep secrets about dangerous beasts, for all the restraint I'm using, Remus criticised himself. He sat up straighter, as if the improved posture would provide him a larger man's courage. "Albus understands your reasons for protecting Harry," he explained delicately after a moment, wishing he was sitting opposite someone less perceptive then Severus Snape.

Keeping his rage in check, Severus's voice dropped a few degrees as he looked into Remus's eyes. "And what might those reasons be? Did he share them with you, Lupin?"

Back to last names, not a good sign. Remus cursed inwardly. It was not his fault that Dumbledore tended to talk a great deal in the evenings, nor that Remus had been asked to tea several times since Severus's unexpected departure from the school. Albus trusted Remus, for which he was thankful, and also confided in him, which put Remus at risk. he took a deep breath, tasting sand and sweat on the air. "He spoke to me, very briefly, about your...connection with Harry's mother."

"He told you about Lily?" Severus gasped, losing his composure in front of Remus for the first time since James and Sirius had removed his underclothes in front of the school. He looked just as vulnerable, furious and hurt as that time, Remus reflected with apprehension. Severus appeared to curl over himself, guarding his secret protectively. "What did he tell you?" Severus hissed, fighting with himself to display no feelings as all, as if his most precious secret had not been trotted out before the werewolf. Remus, his mind said firmly, and at least it's him...what if someone else knew? "Who else was privy to Albus's speculations about my private life?"

Remus had never been a very skilled liar so he did not even attempt to deny the truth to the hostile, injured looking man before him. "Albus discussed briefly the reasons for your continued work as a spy, intending me to understand so I could convince you it was unnecessary. No one else has been told, so as I know." He sighed. "Severus...it's not as though I didn't know."

"You -- what?"

"I was one of Lily's closest friends in school, even before she and James started dating seventh year. She told me a great deal."

"She...she spoke of me?" The question was nervous, hopeful, utterly different then the Severus Remus had come to know so well. He was not sneering or glaring; for once, Remus could see a flicker of something deeper in Severus's eyes, hidden behind the impressive fortress he had built around himself.

"Yes," Remus nodded. "Often."

"Often," Severus repeated as if tasting the word in his mouth. He was very pale, his skin lighter then usual. "Often? And what," he returned to his protective sneer. "What did she say?"

Sensing Severus's vulnerability, Remus wished they did not have to continue the conversation. Thoughts of Lily were obviously difficult for Severus to bear without pain. For a moment, Remus closed his eyes, remembering Lily. Her head had been bowed as if in terrible guilt and confession, the wind had whipped her red hair into a long bright flag behind her as they sat on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, leaning against trees that twisted towards the sky like angry claws. She had been crying on that occasion, although normally she smiled; Lily Evans had been a person in good cheer, though leaning towards a more serious side. Sometimes even now Remus wondered what had prompted her to take such a wild and reckless husband as James. On that day her lashes had been dark and wet against her skin, and her body shook with sobs she tried to suppress. "Remus, he called me a Mudblood -- a Mudblood! I've been kind to him and he hates me."

Remus remembered his own response too, as he was patting Lily's back and trying to get her to stop crying. Even now he could feel his heart breaking for her; she had been so sad, hurt by the sharp, stinging insult that not only belittled her but all her family, her history, her very blood. "He doesn't, Lily, he was just hurt and angry." How I'd known that feeling, Remus thought now with a bittersweet smile. Sometimes, transforming back to a human man from a wolf state Remus had been the same, snapping and snarling, his body wracked with the pain of attacks and merciless expenditure of energy required for transformation, sore from cuts and bruises, so ashamed of himself that he had given everyone a wide berth. He'd even shouted insults and shoved Sirius from him on one terrible occasion. He remembered the stinging of guilt in his chest, the feeling of suffocating with self-hatred and humiliation, naked and bruised. On that day he had patted Lily's hair and whispered all the platitudes, but nothing helped, not that he had honestly expected it would. Kind-hearted Lily rarely cried, but being caught by one of the worst insults in the Wizarding world by someone she had taken a bit of an interest in had been hard for her.

"It varied with the day," Remus said finally, as Severus's force of will dragged him out of the memory. "Look...perhaps..."

"Absolutely," Severus agreed with a sturdy nod. Often...Great Merlin on his broom, I'm acting like a schoolboy with a crush. She's dead. He shook his head, his hair whipping out of his eyes as he scowled and snapped his fingers at the barman, suddenly needing another drink. "The -- ah, the Malfoy boy. Draco," Severus spat with malice. "He has been trained."

"Trained?" Remus questioned, his mind fumbling to make sense of the words now that his train of thought lay in ruins. Then it hit him. "Draco Malfoy has been taught the Killing curse?" He could not disguise the sudden deflated feeling in his lungs that left him momentarily struggling to take in oxygen. Recoiling, he shook his head. "That cannot be."

As if reading a book that had been left open to a particularly interesting page, Severus looked Remus full in the eyes, attempting to glean the information hidden within. "I wonder," he drawled after a moment, pleased to have regained not only his personal control but an upper hand in the conversation. "Why does that surprise you so, Remus? Young Malfoy is the spitting image of his father, Lucius, and I trust you recall Lucius's legend to our fine institution of learning."

Remus nodded. He had been a meek first year with his nose perpetually stuck in a book when Lucius Malfoy had ruled the school, but even he had overheard the rumours, whispered fearfully in the corridors. Due to his exceptional hearing Remus had picked up on many of the circulating myths, tales that told of Lucius stealing student's pets and sacrificing them in bizarre Dark Arts rituals, stories that claimed Lucius was responsible for the disappearance of Floria Bennet, a third year Muggle-born Hufflepuff who had gotten lost on her first Hogsmeade weekend and was never heard of again. Back then Lucius had had it all -- incredible wealth, devastatingly handsome good looks, great power and a family name that cowed others into submission.

It was true; Draco did bear some resemblance to his father. They had very similar features, although Draco was smaller, more delicate and refined looking then Lucius's brute elegance. He had his father's wealth and influence backing him as well, just as Lucius had had, but Draco made use of it far differently, running to his father instead of fighting his own battles, much less initiating anything serious. Draco was a petty tyrant, a school yard bully whose sarcastic wit had fallen flat some months earlier, when even Harry, his enemy, had no longer found him the least bit threatening. He was currently regarded by much of the staff as a nuisance, a fly they longed to swat, nothing like the powerful and frightening image his father had been and, in fact, still was. Lucius had been mad, Remus was thoroughly convinced of that. He had done everything; drunk blood, cast Unforgivable curses without the slightest concern that the victim would go tattling, stolen, lied, abused his privilege. Draco was of different stock; a very tormented young man, struggling in the shadow of his powerful father. Remus could understand how Severus might consider them similar, but he did not for the life of him believe Draco to be capable of the depths Lucius had accomplished. Killing fellow students, even those he bickered with and bullied, seemed beyond the reach of the embittered Slytherin.

Taking a long, reflective sip of hot tea, Remus bit his lip, considering. It was all very well for Severus to hate the boy, which he no doubt did, especially after years of having to pretend ultimate loyalty to the Malfoy family. Such things got on one's nerves and Draco was likely not an easily student to have. He struck Remus has high-maintenance. However, for all his flaws, Remus doubted that blame and scrutiny would help the young man at all. Draco needed something, discipline at times and therapy for sure, but not to be blamed for his psychotic father. Remus wondered what the right step would be. Should the young man be dismissed from Hogwarts? On what charge, speculation? Bearing a now-infamous name?

Certainly, if Draco posed a danger he would need to be removed from the school, but if he didn't? Somehow, Remus thought Lucius would not be inclined to be sympathetic if Draco was sent home before he had the chance to do damage. With a start, Remus realised he had seen the same purple blue shadows Severus bore under Draco's eyes as well; the usual marks of the Cruciatus Curse victim. Remus sighed. Should he trust the boy and risk Harry's safety, not to mention everyone else's, or should he take a precaution that may likely be unnecessary and send Draco back to his father? Could he, Remus, live with himself if he sent an innocent boy home to be destroyed by Lucius once he was no longer useful? No more, he thought tiredly. He was sick of choosing. "Your recommendation, Severus?"

Growling low in his throat in a way that reminded Remus slightly of Sirius when he was angry, Severus sneered. "Bring him to a quiet corner and Avada --"

"Severus!" Genuinely shocking Remus Lupin was a rather difficult thing to do, but Severus had managed it. Twice, in fact, the first shock had come when he had agreed to befriend Remus instead of casting Crucio on him and leaving him to writhe. "We cannot kill him. For all we know he is innocent. He's done nothing."

"That's it, harbour a serpent in your hen-house," Severus replied with disgust. "He is seventeen years old, armed with knowledge of the Killing Curse and bearing a long-term grudge towards Potter. I suggest, Remus, that you take over the god-fatherly duties where Black left off and protect the boy instead of worry about injustice to a Malfoy."

Remus nodded thoughtfully, watching the dregs float around in the small bit of remaining liquid in his teacup. "So you are suggesting pity for the young man's predicament is out of line?" he asked, by way of stalling.

"I am," Severus answered without hesitation. "Irregardless of your bleeding heart some people in the world do not deserve second chances. I think that goes double for the Malfoy family."

"And triple for you?" Remus questioned, his golden eyes hurt and a little apologetic, as if he knew how much the comment would injure Severus but could not restrain himself from uttering it.

Furiously, Severus scowled at Remus. "Spare me your judgements for the moment, Lupin, particularly when you are in the middle of defending Draco Malfoy to me. Do you know what the boy is? I was there when he was trained and when he demonstrated his proficiency in the Killing Curse before the Dark Lord. The look in his eyes -- he was drunk on power, eager to kill. He loved it."

Sinking back in his chair, Severus rested his elbows on the table, his hands covering his face as he caught his breath. Too clearly he remembered his first time performing the spell on something larger then an insect; the heady rush, the thrill of it, an excited shiver in his stomach as he had realised he possessed the power to take life with a flick of his wand and a bit of hateful concentration. And when he had discovered he had the power to take another human life, that first time, it had been orgasmic. Yet here he sat, discussing with Remus Lupin how they ought to remove Draco and send him to his father, where he would have the honour of being target practise, most likely. He, Severus Snape, who knew exactly what Draco felt...well, close enough. His own drunkard father had not initiated Severus into the service of the Dark Lord. Lucius had done it in his place, teaching him everything, and here he was thinking about killing someone he understood absolutely.

"I shall speak to Dumbledore on the matter," supplied Remus as he watched Severus massage his temples. "Certainly any decision we made would need to be approved of by him anyway. Perhaps there is a way, Legilemency, Veritaserum..."

"Perhaps," Severus answered with a little nod. He felt completely stiff, each muscle in his body aching from tension. It was an old feeling, familiar, but that did not stop the pain. "Dumbledore will determine a solution." His shoulders sagged in relief; he would not have to seal anyone's fate. He hated Draco Malfoy, the snotty little brat, nearly as much as he despised Harry. And both for their fathers, oh the irony, Severus, declared his mind with a derisive laugh. However, for all his bluster and cold commentary he was reluctant to be the one that sent Draco to his doom. Severus could imagine only too well what Draco would suffer at his father's hands if he returned home having failing his duty to Voldemort.

As luck would have it, Remus happened upon Draco Malfoy the very next evening before ever having a chance to discuss the matter with Dumbledore. As he climbed the stairs to his own quarters to shower and change clothes before dinner, Remus noticed a flash of pale, silvery hair. He turned, his sharp eyes zeroing in on Draco, who was lounging casually against the wall right outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was gawking at him with unflattering shock.

Remus felt his heart skip a beat. He wanted to give the young man the benefit of the doubt, but what could Draco be planning that was not malicious? There was no doubt in Remus's mind that Draco was waiting for Harry and his friends to emerge from the portrait hole, famished and eager to go down to dinner, for Draco had never been known to speak to any other Gryffindors except for Neville Longbottom, whom he occasionally insulted when bored. What Draco wanted with them was another matter. If he had come to taunt and tease them, well, it would not be okay but it was better then the alternative, that Draco was biding his time until his Killing curse targets emerged from safety, distracted and defenceless. Fear for Harry bloomed in Remus's chest and he turned, going back to the landing.

"Mr Malfoy?" he inquired kindly a moment later. "I trust I find you well. I would like a word with you in my office, now, if you are not otherwise engaged."

Still leaning against the wall, Draco glared. "As it happens, Professor," he drawled sarcastically, for he had never considered Professor Lupin an educator in his own right. "I am busy. Not all of us have the copious amounts of free-time you apparently have. If you make an appointment I might find time." Glancing towards the Fat Lady he mentally willed the portrait to swing open, revealing Harry, hopefully alone. He needed a word with Potter, though the mere thought of it made his palms sweat and his muscles tense with anxiety and anticipation.

He finished his words with a sneer, still glaring hatefully at Remus. Draco had never cared for the man who stood before him. Allowing a werewolf to teach Hogwarts students was an affront to his values; on that Draco agreed wholeheartedly with his father. Such beasts ought to be exterminated, not left in control of children. The poverty the werewolf was accustomed to was another reason for Draco's dislike. He did not believe it was correct for someone poorer then him to attempt to teach him anything. That Remus's robes fit him perfectly, as if they had been specially tailored for him long ago, meant nothing to Draco in light of the patches the robes now bore. The almost pitying glint in the werewolf's eyes goaded him even more. The idea that Lupin should appear almost sorry for him got on Draco's nerves.

For someone with an uncontrollable beast within, Remus did a splendid job of keeping his temper in check. Draco's defiant snub reminded him of Severus and after that thought occurred to him, Remus had a simple time of fighting back his temper and feeling sorry for the child. He was obviously quite angry about something, an emotion that did not bode well for a child supposedly as spoiled and doted upon as Draco was rumoured to be. "I am quite certain you lead what amounts to a terribly busy life at the moment, Mr Malfoy. Nonetheless, I would like to speak with you about. I trust you can wait another day to leap out at Harry and attack him?" Remus's eyes widened a little as Draco reacted. The young man's pale lips went slack with shock for a moment and his silvery eyes glinted with embarrassment. Draco quickly recovered, rolling his eyes dramatically as if to underscore how utterly contemptuous he found Remus to be. At this Remus could not even force himself to hold back a little smile. "Come along."

Dragging the soles of his trainers against the floor Draco followed Remus at a distance, as if bashful to be seen publicly conversing with his professor. The scowl on his face was unmistakable, but Remus did not miss the fact that Draco's usual defiant hiss of "My father!" was absent. Usually the young man played the powerful patriarch card whenever he felt slighted in the least. It was nice to see Draco was not resorting to that tired old tactic; was it too much to hope Draco felt alienated from his father and the expectations of his family? Remus decided to pose some carefully angled questions to the young man and see if he could sort out the situation. Remus was quite perceptive, all those years of quiet observation had given him an edge when it came to studying people. He had his own brand of understanding which was about as reliable as Legilemency, though his answers were gleaned through thought and focus, not spells.

"Something to drink?" he offered as he unlocked his office door and motioned Draco inside. "I have tea, butterbeer and pumpkin juice."

Instead of replying, Draco sneered as he looked around the office. He had not been in the place since Umbridge had occupied it. Gone were the kitten plates -- "ugly things," Draco whispered at the memory -- and Umbridge's various decrees and parchments were missing as well. In their place were a variety of magical creatures; grindylows in separate tanks, a framed photograph of Sphinx kittens, a leering kappa. Something fluttered in a covered bird-cage.

"Cornish pixies," Remus supplied helpfully, seeing Draco take a hurried step back from the rattling cage. "The second years adore them."

Ignoring the professor, Draco let his gaze fall to the crowded bookshelf. He scanned the titles, surprised to see a good mix of literature among the textbooks. Some of the titles were familiar, the same ones Snape kept in his office. Or had, Draco thought, his fists clenching. He turned to face the hateful werewolf, who did not look at all threatening as he stood at his desk brewing tea.

"Go ahead, take a seat," Remus offered, sweeping his arm towards the elegant chairs near the fireplace. The embroidered velvet coverings on them was a bit worn with age, but otherwise they were a handsome set. Remus had taken them from 12 Grimmauld Place, technically his now, in accordance with Sirius's will. When Harry became of age half of the estate would be his, but Remus knew in his heart Harry would want nothing to do with the home that had been Sirius's prison until his death. Remus himself rarely visited it either, except for Order meetings, which were still held there as if to include the late Mr Black's ghost. Sometimes, however, he still found himself drawn back there, particularly on those overcast, grey afternoons when the rainy beat down and the sky darkened to deep grey. On days like that Remus often returned, stepping in to the silent, empty home and breathing the scent of Sirius under the dust, almost hearing his old friend's voice. He turned, smiling at how easily he was able to lose himself in memory. Nodding to Draco, he prompted the boy. "Go on, they won't bite you. How do you take your tea?"

"Sugar," Draco said after a moment as he sank into the chair nearest the fireplace, looking for all the world like he desperately wanted to escape by Floo at that moment. "What is it you wanted, Professor Lupin?" The respectful words were spoken with an acidic voice and Draco did not lose his glare.

Sinking down in the chair opposite, Remus handed the young man a steaming cup of tea. He appraised Draco over the rim of his teacup, watching him frown at the tea and then take a cautious sip, as if he expected Remus had poisoned him. He seemed so edgy, so protective of himself that Remus could not help feeling a rush of sorrow for Draco's predicament. What was it like to have a father like Draco's? Remus guessed Sirius might have understood better, having been raised in a family as noxious and brutal as the Malfoys. Draco was regarding him with a look of blatant hostility, his eyes suspicious and guarded.

For a moment they sat in silence, each drinking their tea. Remus appraised the young man sitting before him. As Severus had pointed out, Draco bore a resemblance to his father but it was not striking up close. They were not nearly identical in appearance as Harry was to James. True, Draco's hair was the precise cream and silver shade of his father's and they both had grey eyes, but Lucius possessed a noble brow, a strong chin and an elegant but dangerous demeanour that Draco did not have. Draco's features were delicate and ornamental, he had an androgynous look about him, almost fragile. Lucius had never looked fragile. Their eyes, despite being the same colour, were not the same either. Lucius's were cold and dead inside, a flat slate grey that only sparkled when he was delighting in someone else's pain. Draco's were faceted with colour and depth, a slightly sparkling mixture of grey hues tinted at the present with stormy blue.

"I must ask," Remus spoke up after a moment. "Why were you standing outside of Gryffindor tower? Were you waiting for someone? I do not mean to pry, I merely found it curious, given that you are not known to be friendly towards any Gryffindor student." He scrutinised Draco for a moment. "Is there anything you would have me know?"

Draco shook his head. "It's none of your business," he declared before turning away, averting his gaze from Remus.

"Fair enough. However, I would have you know that now is not the time to be antagonising Harry Potter. Yes, I know you are long term rivals," he added as Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "I have no intention of ordering you to behave around Harry, but I have to inform you that any action against him at this time would be unwise. As you undoubtedly know, Harry is being pursued by Death Eaters. Given your family's position...it would not be wise," he closed.

For a moment Draco gaped at Remus. Then he snapped his mouth closed, his cheeks reddening. It was a moment before he spoke. "Where is Severus?"

"Professor Snape?" Remus clarified, surprised that the young man would be on first name basis with Severus after the man's harsh comments. "He is no longer employed at Hogwarts, at least for the time being. He supplied the Headmaster with his resignation not long ago, apparently he is on hiatus."

"But you don't know where?"

"Not at the moment, no," Remus answered carefully, so he would not be lying. He did not know at the moment Severus's precise location, though he imagined the other man was still tromping around Cambodia with his punk music. Hiding a smile at the thought, Remus peered at Draco. "Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to owl him," Draco answered sullenly. He glared, feeling very alone and very cold. Severus Snape was one of the few people at Hogwarts who gave a damn about him. Crabbe and Goyle, his two friends and bodyguards, only hung around him because they idolised his last name. Admittedly, Pansy Parkinson was sympathetic towards him. She fawned over him constantly now that he had mastered the Killing Curse, but it was envy motivating her. The Parkinsons were not Death Eaters and she desperately wanted to be, but Pansy could never understand Draco, nor could the half-wits, Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise Zambini seemed to have an inkling of what was going on in his life, but Draco had been warned away from Blaise by his father when the Zambini's had refused to allow Blaise to be taught illegal curses to use in the upcoming battle. None of them mattered to Draco in the least, anyway. Only Severus, who had listened to Draco's complaints with half an ear while grading essays, had provided the much needed companionship Draco craved. Severus understood the pressures, the conflicting feelings, so much more then the werewolf before him could hope to understand in a lifetime, or so Draco guessed.

Heartfelt sorrow made Remus bow his head, looking away from the blonde boy. It was painfully clear that Draco admired Severus, but the Potions professor seemingly wanted him dead. Remus could still hear Severus's steely contempt, his distrust for the young man from his house. To think, the younger Slytherin sought understanding and friendship from the older man who suspected him of being a traitor to the school, in league with Death Eaters.

"I can send an owl to him," Remus offered. "If you'll tell me what it is you want to inquire."

Draco drew away from the invitation, wrapping his arms around himself and looking very melancholy. Professor Lupin, for all his shabbiness, seemed at least kind. Draco wondered for one wavering moment if the man could understand the questions he needed to ask Severus. No, there was no way of trusting the man, even if he did have a pleasant, sympathetic look around the eyes. Hadn't his own father warned him against trusting the werewolf, a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco sighed, feeling ripped in half by the pull of his father's judgement and his own desires. "Can I go now?"

"Mr Malfoy...Draco, I wanted to speak to you about something else. Your home life, how is it? I don't mean to stick my nose into your personal affairs, but I cannot help notice you look tired. Are things well at the manor?" Remus paused. "Your school chums still friendly?"

"I guess...look, I don't want to talk about it," Draco said. He frowned. Harry had undoubtedly gone down to dinner now. If Draco was lucky he might be able to catch him on his way back into Gryffindor tower, if the two friends that clung to him like permanent fixtures were absent. That's unlikely, he thought resentfully, mentally picturing Weasley's customary look of hatred and the Mudblood's pitying glare. "If that's all."

Remus peered at Draco for a moment. Then he sighed, not wanting to press the student before he had words with Dumbledore. If Draco suspected something, if Remus's words triggered his anger or his suspicion, the anger bubbling near the surface could be unleashed. While Remus felt fairly confident of his duelling ability, enough to take on a student anyway, he had no desire to inspire mistrust. Not yet anyway, not while Severus was still out there among Voldemort's loyals. It could be costly. "I suppose so," he agreed after a moment. "If you need to speak to anyone, anytime, feel free to come here. I'm awake most nights anyway," he said, smiling. "Go enjoy your dinner."

Wordlessly, Draco got up, leaving quickly without so much as a farewell or a backwards glance. Remus frowned, wondering if he had done the right thing by approaching Draco and then dismissing him so easily. Something in his mind persisted in believing the young man's innocence, but Remus was starting to doubt himself, wondering if his talent for finding the good in others was making him dangerously optimistic and overly hopeful for Draco's decency. With a sigh, he decided he would speak to Harry after dinner. Harry needed to be warned and anyway it was time to speak to the Headmaster, to begin the process of Harry's removal from the school to a safe location. Sensing that some of Severus's urgency had rubbed off on him, Remus smiled to himself a little. He knew how the other man felt; Remus had recently begun dreaming of Lily again, as if her ghost was prompting him to take care of her orphaned son. He dreamt of Sirius often too, though in the dreams Sirius was usually carefree and grinning, not the warning spectre Lily had become. Remus rose from his desk, deciding to venture down to the Great Hall for dinner and to keep an eye on Harry, and uttered a silent acknowledgement to the ghosts of his fallen friends that he was taking his responsibility of surrogate godfather seriously.