Mist and Vapors

"...and could you please read to me the sixth line of the instructions." Snape pointed to the blackboard with exaggerated politeness.

"Th-then add one teaspoon of ground c-calendula petals and s-s-stir for five minutes while simmering over low heat," the trembling first year stammered, red blotches on his cheeks.

"And could you explain to me, Mister Callaghan, where exactly you went wrong?"

"I--I didn't stir it long enough?" the student whispered.

"Correct. And what else did you do to muck up one of the simplest potions imaginable?"

"I let it come to a b-boil?"

"Correct again. And what, Mister Callaghan, happens when you don't stir long enough and let a potion that should gently simmer come to a full boil?"

The boy looked miserably down at the work table in front of him, covered in slimy brown potion residue.

"It sort of explodes, sir?" he offered tentatively.

"Yes, Mister Callaghan, indeed." Snape's voice was silky-smooth and soft. "It, as you so eloquently put it, sort of explodes. Five points from Gryffindor," he raised his voice over the disapproving murmurs in the classroom, "and be thankful it isn't more. And you, Callaghan, will hand in twelve inches of parchment on what is a simmer, what is a boil, and how to tell the difference. By tomorrow. Class dismissed."

He sat down at desk, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose while Matthew Callaghan attempted to clean up the mess he had created.

Snape sighed inwardly. If Neville Longbottom were not alive and well and apprenticed to an herbologist in Gloucester, he could have sworn that Callaghan was a reincarnation of that particular bane of his existence. And he had at least four more years of melted cauldrons, solidified potions, and wasted ingredients to look forward to before Callaghan would fail his O.W.L. Oh joy.

"Never mind that," he said sharply to the boy. "Just remove yourself from this room before I regret only having taken five points."

"Y-yes, sir," Callaghan stuttered while clumsily trying to reassemble his Potions kit as quickly as possible.

When the boy had finally scrambled out the door, Snape sat for just a moment longer, massaging his temple. He had a pounding headache, and the day wasn't over yet. With a tired sigh, he got up, made the insufferable boy's mess disappear with a wave of his wand, and went into his private study. He measured out a dram of pain potion and swallowed it with a grimace, feeling the pressure behind his eyes ease almost immediately.

Walking over to the small wall cabinet, he unlocked it and took out a goblet and the crystal decanter. Smoke wafted in dark tendrils as he poured out the Wolfsbane. Time for another visit to Lupin's office. Just what he needed to top off a wonderful day.

.-.-.-

When he approached the Defense office, he could hear laughter and animated voices through the door from several yards away. Well, well. It seemed as if someone at least was having a much better day than he. Snape loudly knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response.

"I brought your potion, Lupin."

Two heads shot up as they heard him enter. Lupin and Hannah sat on opposite sides of the desk, a pile of parchment rolls between them. The werewolf looked up warily at his visitor, but Hannah's smile widened as she looked into the Potions master's eyes.

"Hello, Severus."

He nodded in her direction.

"May I ask what you are doing here?" He sat the goblet down on the desk harder than was necessary.

"Defense is my guinea pig essay of the week." She gestured to the scrolls. "We were marking the third years' work. Can you guess that the grammar topic of the week was 'All About Appositives'?" She picked up a scroll, unrolled it, and began to read. "'The Grindylow, a magical beast, lives throughout Scotland and Ireland, part of the British Isles, in lakes, large bodies of fresh water, including the lake at Hogwarts, a magical school.'"

Lupin groaned and reached for the scroll. "Oh, good heavens. Let me see that."

"You two seem to be entertaining yourselves quite well. How very nice." The Potions master impatiently pushed the goblet towards the werewolf.

Hannah smiled up at him. "We were swapping stories. One of the students got me with the old Disappearing Ink trick today - I can't believe I fell for that! Remus was telling me about some of the pranks he and his friends thought up when they were in school," she said with a grin. "And I just got done telling him it seems like a miracle that they were not expelled."

The grin faded off her face as she saw Snape's face harden into a stony mask. She looked uncertainly from one man to the other as her words seemed to hang in the room

"Certain people seem to get away with just about anything, don't they?" Snape said softly, looking at the Defense master.

Lupin's face stayed calm. "I only told her about some of the tricks we all played on the teachers. Nothing more."

"Oh, you shouldn't stop there. You have so many highly amusing stories to tell, don't you, Lupin?"

"Severus, I don't really ..." Remus rose from his seat.

"Oh, but you should have," Snape interrupted him. "Just think, all those nights you used to roam all over the countryside, a fully transformed werewolf, and all that stood between you and disaster were three unregistered teenage animagi. There have to be some delightful anecdotes from those days, I would think. - But I forgot, you can't remember much about those times, can you? Pity."

Not a muscle in Remus' face moved, but Hannah could see the knuckles on his clenched fists turn white. "You know that I'm not proud of what we did," he said in a well-modulated voice. "But really..."

"And how about those friends of yours? Did you tell her about them? He doesn't have the best track record, you know," Severus said with a sneer, turning his face towards Hannah without taking his eyes off the werewolf. "All of his friends seem to turn up either dead or as mass murderers. And sometimes both. "

"That's enough." Hannah said sharply.

For a moment, there was no other sound than a few hard breaths. Then Snape bowed to her. "As you wish. You will see to it that Lupin takes his potion, then. It wouldn't do at all if he forgot again, now would it?"

As the Potions master pivoted on his heels and stormed out the door, Hannah called after him - "Severus, wait..." - but he disappeared without giving a hint he had even heard her. She looked after him for a moment, lips pressed together tightly.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to Remus. "Are you all right?"

Remus slowly unclenched his fists, and then ran a hand through his hair as he managed a somewhat forced smile. "I'm fine. I just wish..." He let the sentence trail off unfinished and looked down. "Never mind."

"I'm sorry, Remus."

He just shrugged and then picked up the goblet. "I'm just sorry you had to listen to that."

Hannah gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "I'll be back in a little while, all right?"

Remus swirled the dark liquid around in the goblet without looking at her. "There's no hurry. Take your time."

.-.-.-.

A few minutes later, Hannah was knocking on the door of the Potions office. When there was no answer, she went on to Snape's private quarters. The second time she knocked, the door opened a crack, and she looked up into the hard face of the Potions master.

"May I come in?" she asked quietly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but just then a noisy, raucous group of Slytherin students came around the corner. He closed his mouth and instead opened the door and pulled her inside before the students could notice her.

He let go of her arm as soon as the door closed.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "To tell me that I behaved abominably, and that I owe our resident werewolf an apology?" His lip curled up in derision.

She shook her head. "No. You know that already," she answered calmly.

"Then what?"

"I was worried about you."

For a moment, the expression on his face wavered. "Worried about me?"

"Are you all right?"

"Shouldn't you be up in the Defense office commiserating with Lupin instead?" he countered with a sneer.

She took a step closer and laid a hand against his cheek. "Talk to me?"

Severus reaction was every bit as sudden as if she had slapped him. He jerked away from her touch, took a quick step back and stared at her disbelievingly, angrily. For a moment their eyes locked. With an effort, he turned away. "It's none of your concern. You couldn't understand."

"Try me."

"It's a long story."

"I have time." With arms crossed, she leaned back against the door.

Severus looked at her with narrowed eyes. It was obvious that short of him physically throwing her out the door, she wasn't going anywhere. Cold black eyes met determined brown ones. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched.

Finally, some of the tension went out of his stance. She would hear at least some of the story sooner or later. She might as well hear it from him as from Lupin.

"Come with me," he said shortly. Having made the decision, he was already fastening his cloak around his throat.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He didn't answer.

.-.-.-.

By the time they had made it from the dungeons to the seventh floor Hannah was sure she had walked up a goodly percentage of Hogwarts' one hundred and forty-two staircases. Severus was striding along slightly ahead of her, forcing her to follow at a near run. When they finally reached the same small door they had been at the night of his birthday, she was panting and out of breath.

The roof was near dark, and Severus pulled out his wand. "Lumos."

With a sigh, Hannah followed him along the parapet. He stopped when they reached the turret. Raising his brightly lit wand tip, he examined the bricks. When he located one much lighter in color than the ones surrounding it, she watched as he tapped it three times.

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "What is...?"

"Just wait." Walking over to the bricked-up doorway of the turret, he stretched out his hand. When he touched the barrier, it shivered like the surface of a pond, waves running outward in concentric circles until they lost themselves in the hard brickwork of the wall.

With a satisfied smile, he nodded, stepped forward - and was gone.

Hannah inhaled sharply, but didn't even have time to exclaim before his face and one hand appeared in the 'wall' again. "Are you coming?" He held out his hand towards her. With a deep breath, she took it and stepped forward.

For a moment, it felt like being drenched in ice water. Then, the utter coldness passed, and she found herself in a small, circular room. Severus must have lit the torches that were stuck in brackets along the wall, casting a flickering light over a room that obviously had been deserted many years ago.

A decrepit-looking armchair - which must have donated much of its stuffing to line mouse nests over the years, judging by the holes that riddled the upholstery - stood against the far side of the room. Next to it, there was a low table with uneven legs, a stack of dust-covered books teetering precariously on one edge.

The turret had looked windowless from the outside, but there was, in fact, a single, narrow window cut into the deep wall, overlooking the lake.

"Where are we?" Hannah looked questioningly at her companion.

"I spent many hours in here as a school boy." His eyes scanned the room with grim satisfaction. "And it appears no one else has found it since."

"How on earth did you find it?" Hannah muttered, looking around the small chamber with curiosity.

He stepped up to the window and looked outside into the darkness.

They had been after me again, he thought. I had come up here to get away from them, and I was angry, and trying not to cry, and I hit my fists against the wall, and then...

"Coincidence," he said.

There must have been something in his voice...he could feel her move up behind him. "Tell me," she said softly.

"I told you that I was in the same year as Lupin..."

Behind him, she stood quietly, not talking, just there.

"Did I tell you Pettigrew also was in my year?"

"No. The one that wrecked your classroom? That hurt Remus?"

"One and the same. Lupin, Pettigrew, and two more - James Potter and Sirius Black. They were best friends."

He stopped again.

"Go on," she said quietly.

"Well, let's just say they didn't much care for me," he said in a dry voice. He paced a few steps. "I tried to make friends with Black at first. An old Pureblood family, steeped in the Dark Arts, just like mine - I thought maybe...but he was a Gryffindor through and through. Couldn't be bothered with a Slytherin. Instead, he soon fell in with the other three. They were inseparable."

He walked over to the table, picked up a book, and blew the dust off the cover. "Arrogant prats, perfectly happy in their little mutual admiration society. Couldn't deal with the fact that I didn't think they deserved a standing ovation simply for getting out of bed in the morning. It started with insults, progressed to hexes, and ended in something akin to all out war." He put the book back down, sending a cloud of dust billowing up from the table.

"I needed a place to be alone sometimes, to get away. And I always thought the castle knew that, and that is why it gave me this place." Laughing harshly, he turned around to her. "Idiotic, isn't it?"

"Not at all. Sometimes, it feels like this castle is a living thing, doesn't it?" She stretched out a hand, and carefully ran it along the wall. "So they made your life miserable."

"Black decided that he was offended by my mere existence. Potter was no better. And their idea of a fair fight consisted of two or three against one. Black and Potter, and sometimes Pettigrew..."

"And Remus?" Her voice was hard.

Severus shook his head. "No. He would just make himself scarce. The precious Prefect, letting his friends get away with anything they came up with. And they came up with all sorts of wonderful ideas. One of them almost killed me." His voice sounded raw as he stepped up to the window again.

Soft footsteps came up behind him, and he could feel her hand on his shoulder. He irritably shrugged it off.

"Black told me how to get past the Whomping Willow one day. There's a door near the roots. Cleverest idea he'd had in a while, I'd wager. Good laugh, he must have had. What he neglected to point out was that I would find Lupin transformed into a werewolf at the other end of the passage. Dumbledore had very conveniently kept his 'condition' a secret. If Potter hadn't gotten cold feet, I probably wouldn't be here. Just one fun prank of many. They hounded me, humiliated me, and the bigger the audience, the better. They made me the laughingstock of the castle so many times I lost count. So there you have the short version."

He turned around, his face angry.

"And as I am sure you will in the interest of fairness enquire of Lupin as to other side of the story, before you ask, yes, I gave as good as I got, and even though I probably spent more time in the hospital wing than they did, I sent them there often enough. Satisfied?"

She looked at him, her eyes soft in the flickering torchlight. "Severus, how would anything you did make what they did to you any less wrong?"

"There were many that said I asked for it. That I deserved what I got. Schoolboy antics, just tit for tat." His voice was brittle like spun glass.

She reached up a hand and put it against his cheek. This time, he didn't pull away. "I don't care about the other side of the story, Severus. I'm not the Grand Inquisitor. I'm your friend. What they did to you was wrong."

Her thumb gently ran over his cheekbone. He drew breath painfully at the touch.

For a moment they just stood quietly, eyes locked.

He stood there, wondering why it was that hearing those words had caused his throat to close up, with an aching, burning tightness that made it hard to even swallow. He could not have gotten a word out at the moment if his life depended on it.

She stood there, wondering how much hurt and humiliation and anger lay behind the scant outline he had sketched with his words, for the pain to still be this acute so many years later. And wondering if there had ever been a time that he had been happy, and what, if anything, she could do to make that awful look in his eyes disappear.

Tentatively, she slid her hand back further, through his hair, to the nape of his neck. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. As her other arm encircled his back, she drew his head down towards her. At first, he stood rigidly, head bent, barely submitting to the embrace.

"I have wanted to do this for so long..." she said softly, her fingers tracing small circles against the back of his neck. She could feel his muscles relax beneath her hands, the tension leave his shoulders, ebbing away ever so slowly. Finally, with a soft, fluid exhalation she felt warm against her throat, he surrendered control. His arms wrapped around her as he leaned into her, burying his face against the hollow of her neck.

"That's better," she whispered as she slowly, gently stroked his hair, his neck, his shoulders; her other arm hugging him to herself as tightly as she dared. She closed her eyes, content to just hold him, to listen as his ragged breaths grew softer and slower.

She held him for what seemed like a small eternity, determined to let him decide when to break the embrace.

When he finally straightened up, he didn't let go of her. She looked up at him, still encircled in his arms.

His eyes were unreadable. "So what do we do now?" he asked, his voice soft and hoarse.

Tears sprang up in her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered.