Desperate Times

Severus Snape stormed furiously around his rooms in the dungeons of Hogwarts, swearing to himself and throwing things messily into a large suitcase. He absolutely could not believe what was being asked of him. To go to Romania, the country of vampires, werewolves and God only knew what other kinds of disgusting imitative humans with one of said creatures and an escaped mass-murderer. Insane. And for what? The support of a group of mangy, flea-bitten monsters? Isn't worth the energy it's going to take to Apparate, he thought, slamming some toiletries into his case.

Muttering to himself some more, he gave up on the packing and poured himself a drink, glaring intensely into the fire. He was too agitated to sit down. After pacing about a bit, he decided to do the only thing that could calm him down. Getting out his silver cauldron as an up-yours to the werewolf, he decided to make an anti-fatigue draught. They kept quite well as long as it was cool, and he'd undoubtedly need it, going where he was. Severus fully planned to sit awake every night surrounded by an abundance of sharp silver and wooden objects.

He stomped, still seething, into his store cupboard and emerged with the required ingredients. Slamming them down onto his desk, he took out his wand and lit a fire under the cauldron.

As he chopped, measured, stirred and sifted, he could feel himself relaxing. The physical act of making the potion seemed to force stress out of his body; he could pour his anger and frustration into the cauldron and turn it into something useful. The musty, slightly sweet aroma of the half-complete concoction wafted softly up to his nostrils, and a tiny smile crossed his lips. The feeling of making something from nothing was greatly satisfactory to Severus. It was rather how he felt about his life. That potion, however, was barely past the beginning stages. Rebuilding his life to the point where he could bear to look into the mirror again was only the preparation of the ingredients, he reflected grimly. He hadn't realised it at the time, but when he'd been a Death Eater, he had been slowly poisoning himself and it was to his eternal gratitude that he'd seen what was really happening before he had added the final ingredient. Before he had reached the Point of No Return, so to speak. The Dark Lord had made him feel ... alive. Wanted, appreciated. He had been praised for his ability at making poisons, and to a loyal Death Eater the praise of Lord Voldemort was everything. It was their life-force, what they strove for, what they'd do anything for. And Severus had. The poisons he had made were not typical, run-of-the-mill toxic potions. No. They did the most horrific, most terrible things to human beings imaginable. Severus had generally tried to steer clear of violence, preferring instead to supply the means for it. He remembered the first and only time he had witnessed the effects of one of these potions first-hand.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Got everything, Moony?"

"I think so," replied Remus, trying to force his suitcase on his bed shut.

"And what did Mrs Summers say?"

"She was really good about it. Said that the job's always open for me if I want it." He was now throwing his entire weight onto the stubbornly unzipped suitcase.

"Sounds like a nice lady."

"She is. A very nice lady ..." Sirius took pity and went to help. Between the two of them the suitcase grudgingly zipped up.

"Sure you've got enough?" asked Sirius, snickering as he examined the bulging case.

"Nope. We're going to have to go to Diagon Alley and get you some new robes. You can't wear your old ones and I'll need mine."

Sirius felt awful, not to mention embarrassed. His friend was more generous than his income would allow. Always had been. "Moony, you don't have to --"

"I don't have to. I want to. It isn't much, but it's been a while since anyone's done anything nice for you."

Sirius was half touched, half incredulous. "What? You've already let me invade your house, use your things and eat your food. I'd say that's enough."

"We're going. You're about my size so there won't be a problem finding ones that fit."

Sirius reluctantly transformed, growling at the evil gleam in Remus' eyes as he got out the collar again.

**

Two hours later, Remus and Padfoot stumbled out of Remus' living room fire with bags of clothes, potions ingredients (Remus insisted that he wouldn't allow Snape to pay for ingredients for a potion that wasn't even for him) and chocolate. Lots of chocolate. "You can never have too much," Remus had explained to the dog, much to the confusion of the shopkeeper, as he bought half the shop.

Sirius transformed. "You don't think there are going to be any Dementors there, do you?"

Remus looked at Sirius, seeing right through his feigned calmness. His eyes and the way his knuckles were white on his fisted hands gave away the terror that the mere thought of the creatures caused his friend. "Well ... I doubt it," he said truthfully. He certainly hoped there wouldn't be. Remus didn't like Dementors, but he had a strong Patronus. He doubted Sirius would have the strength of mind to come up with a happy memory whilst in a Dementor's presence, despite the fact that Sirius was undoubtedly a powerful wizard. He knew he wouldn't if he had the looming threat of the Dementor's Kiss over him, day and night.

Sirius flopped down onto the sofa. "I hope not. Snape won't think twice about letting them have me ..."

Remus shook his head emphatically. "He wouldn't. Dumbledore trusts Severus, and as much as you and he dislike each other, I don't think he'd abuse that trust."

Sirius snorted. He sat in silence for a moment. Then, "I wonder what it's like ...?" he mused, staring into the fire.

"What?"

"The Kiss. I mean, do you think it hurts, or ... what?"

"I don't know. And neither of us will ever have to find out," Remus answered determinedly, hoping that Sirius would believe him. He didn't want to ask what Azkaban was like. If Sirius wanted to talk about it, he could. If not, Remus wouldn't push him. He couldn't fail to notice how tense Sirius got at the mention of it, though. He was plainly terrified that he'd be caught again, but Remus knew that he, and Dumbledore for that matter, would never let that happen.

Sirius said nothing. Remus cast around for something that would cheer him up. "Have you spoken to Harry at all?"

Had Sirius been in canine form when Remus asked that, his ears would have pricked up and his tail would have started wagging. "About a week ago. I sent him a letter. I might get to see him tomorrow, though, when we go to Hogwarts to get Snape." The last word dripped with malice.

"I'm sure Albus will let you. It'll be nice to see him again, actually."

Sirius nodded. "He actually asked in one of his letters if we could go visit him when I got here."

Remus smiled. He had liked Harry and his friends, and had been touched at Harry's efforts, futile or not, to persuade him to continue teaching. He had an underlying suspicion, however, that Harry was angry at him for letting Peter escape. The nasty little part of his brain that told him he was a monster was having fun with that niggling little doubt. Remus shook his head and tried not to worry. He supposed he would find out tomorrow.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Now are we ready?" asked an impatient, bordering-on-irate Sirius.

"Yes. No! Hang on ..."

Sirius groaned and threw himself irritably down onto the sofa. Four times! He had never understood Remus's complete inability to be on time for anything when he was a kid, and he was no closer to enlightenment now. First he had forgotten the potions ingredients he had bought for Snape, then the vast amounts of chocolate he had purchased from Honeydukes, then his wand. "What now?"

"It's the -- hang on ... no ... oh, good. Never mind, I've got it," Remus said, triumphantly holding aloft that sodding collar which Sirius was beginning to hate with a passion.

"What? Why do we need that?" he protested, sounding like a whiny child and not caring.

"Just in case," Remus answered, trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement.

Sirius scowled. "Well, if you're quite finished packing the entire contents of your house, can we please go?"

"Yes, yes ... or ... wait ... actually ..." Seeing the murderous expression on Sirius' face he quickly backpedalled. "I ... think we're all set. Heh."

Without waiting for Remus to discover that he had forgotten his toothbrush or Registry papers or some other such thing, Sirius stepped quickly into the fire and emerged in Albus Dumbledore's office. He had always loved Dumbledore's office, in spite of the fact that he had usually been here to be punished for some form of Slytherin-baiting. The lush, rich carpets and upholstery along with the fascinating and completely befuddling shiny gadgets littering the shelves, the ancient, smiling portraits on the walls and the almost perpetually crackling fire never failed to make him feel at home, and more importantly, safe. Not a feeling he had been overly familiar with of late.

"Ah, Sirius. And how do I find you today?" asked Dumbledore, putting down the quill he had been writing with and standing up.

"Very well, thank you. Yourself?"

"Oh, wonderful, wonderful. And where is Remus?" The aged headmaster did indeed look particularly cheerful that morning.

"Probably forgotten something else," Sirius answered grumpily, but at that moment the crackling flames turned green and out stepped a sooty Remus.

To Sirius' maddened incredulity, he wasn't carrying anything. At all. "Where's your luggage?" he wailed. "Don't tell me you managed to forget the whole lot! Honestly, Moony, you're just something else ..."

Albus looked amused. Remus sighed. "I shrunk it, Padfoot. It's in my pocket."

There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," called Albus.

The door opened and in walked Harry. "Harry!" said Sirius, giving the boy a hug.

"Hi, Sirius. You look well," he replied, looking a bit surprised at the appearance of his Godfather.

"Well, Moony let me invade his house and eat all his food, so I'm being well looked after," Sirius said, grinning.

"Hi, Professor Lupin," greeted Harry.

"Hello, Harry. Just Remus, I'm not your Professor any more. How are you?"

"Okay," answered Harry indifferently. "Lots of work, but ..."

"Well, I'll go check Severus is ready," said Albus, and with a smile and a nod, he left.

"And our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher hasn't a clue. He's worse than Snape for hating the Gryffindors. In fact," he continued dispiritedly, "I think it's just me."

Remus looked sympathetic. The poor kid had so many enemies, all because of something that happened fifteen years ago. "Who do you have?"

"Some bloke called Professor DeVil," Harry sighed.

Sirius frowned. "Bit of a suggestive name, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't think he's working for Voldemort," said Harry, shrugging. "He just doesn't like me. Sort of like Snape, actually. So where exactly are you two going?"

"Three," amended Remus, grinning at the pained expression on Sirius' face.

"Three?"

"Good old Snapey's coming, too," Sirius muttered, looking darkly at Harry. "We're going to be stuck in a house in Romania with that greasy git."

Harry started laughing. "And I thought it was bad for me," he sniggered. "You two and Snape ... living together ..." Remus had to agree. The outlook was bleak.

The door burst open again and in piled Ron and Hermione, bickering as usual. "Viktor's very nice! I'm getting fed up of you bad-mouthing him just because you --"

"I'm not bad-mouthing him, I'm just telling it like it is!"

"You are bad-mouthing him! And it's very childish saying horrible things about someone who's been nothing but nice to you just because you're jealous!" Hermione snapped.

"Wha -- jealous?" blustered Ron, going red.

"Yes, jealous! He's very nice and --"

"Well, if Vicky's that nice, why don't you just go off and marry him?" snapped Ron. A rather childish comment, perhaps, but it ended the argument on the grounds that Hermione had clearly won.

Remus coughed quietly, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to keep a straight face. Sirius seemed to be faring no better in the poker-face stakes. He was watching them with a sage expression on his face.

"Professor!" exclaimed Hermione, noticing the other occupants of the room for the first time. "What are you doing here? Are you taking over Defence Against the Dark Arts again? That would be wonderful! Because Professor DeVil seems to think the class is called Defence Against Harry Potter."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Keeps making comments about You-Know-Who and stuff." He made his voice deep and gravelly. "If we were to follow Potter's example we'd be throwing young children at dark wizards ..."

"So are you back?" asked Hermione eagerly. "Oh, hi, Sirius. How are you both, anyway?"

Sirius exchanged amused looks with Remus as they tried to process the rapid-fire questions that were being hurled at them. "We're both fine," answered Remus. "And I'm not teaching again. Sirius and I are going on a ... little trip with Professor Snape."

He was highly amused at the looks Ron and Hermione gave Sirius and him. Horrified and pitying respectively. "Where?" asked Ron. "And why? And, more importantly, why are you being made to go with Snape?"

Sirius grinned while Remus tried to look impassive. "We're going to Romania to try to persuade the werewolves not to join Voldemort," answered Sirius, ignoring Ron's flinch at the mention of the name.

"Really?" asked Hermione, looking delighted. "I read that there are whole clans of werewolves and vampires there. There are loads of magical creatures in Romania that you don't get anywhere else. Are you going to see them? That would be fascinating!"

"Yeah ..." muttered Sirius. "Maybe Snape'll meet his own species."

Harry and Ron snorted with laughter while Remus and Hermione looked at him sternly.

The door opened again and in walked Albus followed by Snape, who was positive radiating disgust. He scowled around the room, offering no more than a curt nod to Remus's greeting and completely ignoring everyone else.

"Well now!" said Dumbledore cheerfully, clapping his hands together. "It looks like our happy campers are ready to go."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all began sniggering. Said happy campers were looking distinctly unhappy. Snape was slumped in a chair by the window, scowling and exuding an air of foreboding. Sirius was glaring at him, wand hand twitching and making barely audible growling noises and Remus was watching the pair warily, one hand extended as a subtle but firm order to Sirius to stay put. Dumbledore was ignoring the hostility, however, and seemed determined that they were going to become the best of friends during their trip. "You three had best be off now, I think. I have prepared a Portkey. If you just go North out of the village, the cottage is not too far a walk." He was wearing an undisguised expression of amusement now. "The password is 'Slythindor'"

Snape snorted and Remus rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Trust Albus.

Sirius and Remus bid goodbye to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Snape sneered his farewells. The three of them touched the Portkey and vanished.

**

They found themselves in a small side-street. The sky was grey and miserable and the wind howled forlornly around them, whipping their hair and scattering crackling dead leaves around their feet. The place had a lonely, almost desperate feel to it. Remus wandered out of the side-street and onto a cobbled road running perpendicularly to it. The houses lining the street were tall and white with shutters on the windows, banging against the walls with strangely empty-sounding thuds. Of the few people there were to be seen, one or two gave them curious looks as they passed by. Even the people looked oddly grey and washed out. It was cold. Remus shivered. He noticed that Sirius and Severus looked no happier. Sirius had pulled his cloak around him and was looking slightly suspicious. Severus looked thoroughly disgusted. "It's a Muggle town, then," he commented, as an old woman wrapped up in shawls gawked her way by. He sent her on her way with a dark scowl.

"Cheerful little place, isn't it?" said Sirius, walking over to stand next to him. "Snape'll fit right in."

Remus looked at Severus and was relieved to note that he apparently hadn't heard Sirius' comment. He had cast a Four-Point spell and was looking to the right, up the street. "It's this way," he muttered, and began walking. They received more odd looks as they walked. Remus wasn't sure if it was the robes or the fact that they were strangers, but either way he felt distinctly uncomfortable under a one-eyed old man's scrutinising stare as they passed by him.

It didn't take them long to reach the end of what was apparently the main street. The houses ended and were replaced with trees and plants, swaying and rustling lazily in the wind. There was an ominous looking forest not too far to the north-east and just before it was a large house, lonely in its surroundings, with a barn.

As it was the only house in the vicinity, apart from those in Brasov to the south, the three men walked in its direction. Closer up they could see that despite its unlived-in appearance, it was in good condition. "It's ... nice," attempted Sirius.

The brass doorknocker (a distinctly eerie androgynous face) opened its eyes. "Password?" it demanded.

Severus glowered at it and spat "Slythindor" out, grimacing as though it was painful just to say it. Remus and Sirius exchanged amused looks. The knocker glared at them suspiciously and the door swung open.

The three men entered, out of the wind. The hall they found themselves in was dark and narrow, but nicely decorated in warm terracotta. Severus opened the nearest door and went in. Remus and Sirius followed him into what turned out to be a very large sitting room. The focal point of the room was a huge, ornate fireplace set into one wall. There were two three-seat sofas and a coffee table, on top of which sat a vase of dried flowers. It was very cosy. A good thing, too, thought Remus, noticing the icy looks Sirius and Severus were shooting each other.

"Nice room," he commented, with forced, happy-families joviality. Severus raised a smooth eyebrow.

"Quite." He clearly wasn't going to be humouring anyone.

The adjoining room was a dining room with rich, deep red walls. Sirius began to laugh. "Look," he said, pointing. In the centre of the large, solid oak table sat a bowl of bright yellow lemon drops. Remus grinned. Their zesty cheerfulness contrasted madly with the severe room in a very Dumbledore-like manner. They went back into the hall and up the stairs. There were four doors leading off the landing and another staircase. Severus entered one room, disappeared into it and shut the door without a word. Remus opened another and was not particularly surprised to see a bedroom plushly decorated in red and gold. A piece of parchment lay on the sizeable four-poster bed. Remus entered the room and picked it up.

Remus frowned. What on earth did that mean? And more to the point, how did you pronounce it? He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to use the barn. Severus was doing the Wolfsbane Potion for him. No doubt there was some bizarre reason behind it, though. He took his diminutive suitcase out of his pocket and put it on the bed. "Finite incantatum," he said, pointing his wand at it. The case snapped back to its considerable usual size.

There was a sharp knock on the door and Severus walked in. "As I thought," he said, his scowl taking in the Gryffindor colours.

"Hello, Severus," Remus said politely. "Do you know how you pronounce this?" He handed him the note.

Severus read it and snorted in amusement. "Appropriate," he muttered. "It means something about keeping the wolf from the door. But I don't know how you pronounce it, no. I came to ask if you and Black like spaghetti bolognaise."

"Spaghetti bolognaise?" parroted Remus, surprised.

"Yes," was the impatient reply. "I was going to make some for dinner later. Unless, that is, you would rather make something yourself?"

"No," Remus said quickly. He didn't particularly enjoy cooking, nor was he very good at it. "Spaghetti bolognaise is fine. Sirius likes it, too."

"Oh, good," Severus replied in a voice thick with sarcasm. "The other room on this floor is a bathroom, by the way. There's another one upstairs, as well as a library, a study and another bedroom." With that he left. Remus went to find Sirius and found him in the other Gryffindor bedroom, unpacking.

"Severus is doing spaghetti bolognaise for dinner, Sirius," he told his friend, laughing at the expression of horror he received in return.

"He's ... what? Snape is making dinner?"

"Yes, Severus is making dinner. And he won't poison you."

"Wouldn't be so sure," grumbled Sirius. Remus marvelled at how long the two men could hold a grudge. Surely after all these years they could at least be civil to one another?

As Sirius expelled a string of colourful insults about the Potions Master he dismissed that thought. He'd just have try to live with it without succumbing to the already growing urge to lock them in a room together and not let them out until they had acknowledged that they were on the same side and therefore had to try to get on.