Just Say the Words

Just Say the Words

When One Night Makes Twenty Years of Pain Worth Living

Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering towards Lupin more often than was natural? (PoA p. 119 Bloomsbury)

There were lots of meetings taking place at no. 12 Grimmauld Place the autumn of 1996; and every time Snape stopped by, or should I say swooped by, to share the latest intelligence with the other members of the Order. Each time he only stayed long enough to deliver his message, then left in a swirling of cloak. And Remus had done it countless times before: Watched Snape's back as he swiftly retreated to whatever important business awaited him. It was always like that: Snape leaving quickly, Remus silently staying behind.

It had been like that when they were young students at Hogwarts as well. Remus never really dealt directly with Snape. It was always James and Sirius who were in the forefront, taking the blows and giving them. Remus was the one hanging back, passively watching the war going on between the boys. Remus never had a physical confrontation with Snape, or even spoke as much as one word with him. Except for that time in his fourth year when he accidentally bumped into Snape in the corridor making him drop his books. James, Sirius or Peter had not been with him then. He had instinctively given Snape a quick apologetic look and mumbled a 'sorry'. He remembered Snape's black eyes meeting his for a second. Remus knew he should be expecting a curse coming flying his way any moment; the boy was notorious for hexing anyone, especially a Gryffindor, especially a friend of James who was foolish enough to stumble across his path.

But when Remus looked into the eyes of the boy standing in front of him, he saw no desire to punish, no evil fire. Just a quiet, wistful flicker of - something. A strange glittering of shadows moving deep, deep down in the black pits of his eyes. Remus was struck by how enigmatic those eyes were. He noticed how the shadows were hastily wrapped up in a cold indifference - to hide whatever needed to be kept secret. But even then his dark eyes were very much alive. And strangely beautiful. If someone had asked him why, Remus would not have been able to explain, but oddly enough he felt perfectly safe when he turned his back on Snape and quietly walked away. Seeing those eyes had made him sure Snape, despite his reputation, was not going to attack him.

As Snape left the shadows of the bushes and set off across the grass, Sirius and James stood up.

Lupin and Wormtail remained sitting: Lupin was still staring down at his book, though his eyes were not moving and a faint frown line had appeared between his eyebrows.

'All right, Snivellus?' said James loudly.

Snape reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack. (OotP p. 569 Bloomsbury)

It was hard not to notice Snape the seven years Remus attended Hogwarts. Remus's friendship with James, Sirius and Peter ensured he was constantly exposed to James's nemesis. But unlike the others, who were too busy fighting him, Remus found plenty of time to observe and study him. Everyone else saw a slimy, untrustworthy fellow up to his neck in the Dark Arts. Remus saw a skinny, stringy-looking and rather forlorn boy. He looked like a proper meal and a Strenghtening Potion would have done him good. He looked like a real friend would have meant everything. His skin was pale, his complexion pallid. Remus always thought its colour made the skin look soft and cool to the touch. It certainly made those extraordinary, glittering dark eyes stand out like live, black diamonds. Those eyes gave the boy a certain aura of mystery. Snape was not exactly handsome, but it never entered Remus's mind to call him ugly. Instead he found his looks intriguing and rather fascinating. The large, hooked nose that dominated his face, the thick raven-coloured, heavy strands of hair that fell across his forehead; the twitchy and prowling walk that strangely enough did not remind Remus of a carnivore stalking its prey, but rather of the prey itself searching for a non-existing safe haven. And then there was of course the way he, despite his juvenile awkwardness, moved extraordinarily fast to reach his wand every time James shouted 'Snivellus!' behind his back. But then again, he'd had a lot of practise those seven years at Hogwarts.

'Leave him alone,' Lily repeated. She was looking at James with every sign of great dislike. 'What's he done to you?'

'Well, said James, appearing to deliberate the point, 'it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean ...'

Many of the surrounding students laughed, Sirius and Wormtail included, but Lupin, still apparently intent on his book, didn't... (OotP p. 570 Bloomsbury)

Remus knew all about Snape's dedication to his studies; only Remus stayed as much in the library as he did. It gave him ample opportunity to notice how the Slytherin painstakingly poured over more books than he could count, how he meticulously made notes with his miniscule and neat hand-writing. Watching him secretly, Remus always wondered what it would have been like to study with him, to sit silently next to him, looking over his shoulder to compare notes. Something told him they might have gotten along just fine, if it weren't for the way things were. It made Remus wonder what would have happened if he had never befriended James and Sirius; if there would ever have been a chance of him getting to know a little closer the thin and neglected boy with the dark glittering eyes he so mysteriously felt drawn to. Remus always felt the strangest of emotions, a sort of calm yearning, a sad and wondering feeling the times their eyes happened to meet.

Maybe the two of them weren't that different after all: With their greyish complexion and bookish interests, they were both oddballs. The only difference being that Remus quite successfully avoided drawing attention to himself and remained inconspicuous, while Snape, with his sinister demeanour and his unfortunate habit of always picking fights with the school's most popular students, stood out a mile apart from everyone else. Deserved or not, it was obvious he hated every second of it. It made Remus shudder to think that if it weren't for his friends he could easily have ended up being the outcast, being Snape. That is, if one didn't count the Slytherin's fierce and stubborn determination to get back at his enemies who out-numbered him four to one - Remus had never been that dedicated to any cause; nor could he have mustered so much hate...

Remus had been totally horrified when he had learned that Sirius had coaxed Snape into going after him to the Shrieking Shack. He had been told the whole story the day after when lying in the hospital wing recovering from the night's ordeal (he usually made a bloody mess out of himself when in the shape of a werewolf). A nightmare had almost come true; he had been too close to killing another human being. Even Sirius realised, with some persuasion from Dumbledore, what dire consequences his foolhardy prank could have resulted in. Snape's eyes had changed after that. Now there was not only the cold indifference when their eyes met, but the mysterious and oddly beautiful shadows had been pushed to the back by something else in the depths of those black pits. Hate, definitely. And possibly quite a lot of pain, contempt and disgust, surely, and maybe even disappointment. Probably all of it. Remus didn't know. But he forever regretted what had happened that night. He felt like he had lost something precious, but he didn't know what. He had never been friends with Snape anyway, so what had there been to lose?

Unlike Sirius, Remus hadn't needed Dumbledore's admonitions to apologise to Snape; he did it all on his own accord even though he knew it would be of no use: Snape believed Remus had been in on the cruel joke. The pain and the hate in the boy's eyes had come to stay. And this time it was not only directed towards James and Sirius, but towards him as well. It hurt. It made the strange yearning throb more painfully in his heart.

He hadn't seen Snape again after they left school. He knew from his dealings with the Order that Snape had joined the Death Eaters. Sometimes Remus caught himself staying awake in bed at night, wondering what had driven him to walk down that road. Somehow his fascination with the Dark Arts didn't ring true to Remus; no, that could not have been the only reason why Snape had joined the DE ranks even though everyone else seemed to think so. Remus would know; he had known Snape at Hogwarts. Yes, he had known him. No one had studied him like he had. Snape was not evil. He refused to believe it. Because he had looked into Snape's eyes on more than one occasion. Even when they were filled with hatred, they were not evil. The hatred Remus had seen in those eyes was more closely related to pain than to evil. Remus knew because he himself had known pain. Even now it was his closest friend. His sleepless nights always ended with the same thought: What if he, Remus, was partly responsible for Snape's choice of joining the wrong side? He couldn't deny that he had done nothing to stop James and Sirius from making Snape's stay at Hogwarts a living hell. Had he practically driven Snape into Voldemort's arms? The sore, inexplicable yearning tore at Remus's insides again, and the last thing he usually remembered before falling into an uneasy slumber was a pair of black diamonds glittering strangely against soft, pallid skin.

I believed there's no heaven

No hideaway for the lonely

When it had become known that Lord Voldemort might be specifically going after the Potter family, the first rift occurred between the four Hogwarts friends. It had been a dangerous time, a desperate time, and the Order didn't know whom to trust. Remus remembered it with a shudder. They thought he hadn't noticed that they gradually left him out of the planning. No one would tell him directly, but he understood that they were unsure of his loyalties. Things had happened which suggested there was a mole in the system, a spy. It had been Sirius who had suspected Remus. Why? Because he had noticed Remus's lack of hatred to, in his eyes, the biggest Death Eater of all: Old Snivellus. As if lack of hate automatically qualified for treason! Remus would never have betrayed his friends. He would rather have died himself, just like Sirius would have done. Just because he wasn't good at expressing his feelings like Sirius, didn't mean he wasn't loyal to his friends and to the good side. The fact was that Remus had always been the quiet type, not a self-assertive bloke like Sirius.

Then, surprisingly, Snape had seemingly decided to switch sides and went on to become Dumbledore's right arm as the Potions master at Hogwarts and a spy for the Order. Their paths had crossed again fourteen years later when Remus was offered the DADA position at Hogwarts. It had been somewhat of a shock meeting Snape's black eyes again. He guessed it shouldn't have, but it surprised him that the hate directed towards him seemed unabated, even stronger than before. But what surprised Remus even more was how reliably and even willingly, almost desperately, Snape performed his duty of supplying and bringing him the Wolfsbane Potion every month. Remus thought he must be loving Dumbledore a lot to go to such great lengths. He was secretly impressed by the amount of self-control Snape mastered; how only the cold indifference showed in his eyes whenever he came by his office with the smoking goblet; how he always cast Remus a quick, searching glance before he swept out the office door. More often than not, that look left Remus with an odd, tingling sensation somewhere in the region of his stomach.

'You should drink that directly, Lupin.'

'Yes, yes, I will,' said Lupin.

I made an entire cauldronful,' Snape continued. 'If you need more.'

'I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.'

'Not at all,' said Snape, but there was a look in his eye Harry didn't like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful. Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.

'Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,' he said. 'I have never been much of a potion-brewer, and this one is particularly complex.

'Why -?' Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question.

'I've been feeling a bit off-colour,' he said. 'This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it.' (PoA p. 118 Bloomsbury)

Every time Snape left his office, Remus would reach for the goblet. The silver felt cool to his hands, but at the spot where Snape had touched it, it was still warm. Remus would be careful to close his own hand around the exact same spot, not letting go till the warmth had blended with his own. It was the closest he had ever been to touching Snape. It had been so easy to imagine that his hands must be cold, like his eyes. But it comforted him they weren't. And then there was the potion itself. It had a revolting taste, but Remus had never felt a stronger desire to drink anything in his whole life. Snape had put a lot of energy, thought and meticulous consideration into the half a pint of smoking potion, and Remus couldn't help himself but let every drop caress his lips and play along his tongue before he carefully allowed them to glide down his throat. A frightening but at the same time welcoming thought hit him. That potion was just like Snape: It was foul and unpleasant, but he needed it badly; his sanity depended on it. Again that lonely yearning hit him forcefully. And still he couldn't figure out exactly what he was longing for.

Then, at the end of the school year, they had met in the Shrieking Shack. Snape had been livid with glee and fury when he found Remus with Sirius and the children. Remus had never seen him so - disturbed before. His black eyes were extraordinarily alive, furious shadows moving in them. For the first time in his life, he had been truly frightened of Snape. He had tried to talk some sense into him, but to no avail. Why was Snape so angry he even let go of the self-control he was so proud of? He had always hated the Marauders, but still... Remus had only seen that kind of look once; it had been in a Muggle movie, and it had been the look of a woman jealous for her lover. But he couldn't imagine Snape ever caring enough for anybody to harbour such a mundane feeling as jealousy. So what could possibly have made Snape behave like a furious lioness? Anyway, Sirius had managed to escape the Dementors' kiss and Snape had gotten back by letting slip that Remus was a werewolf. Remus had just silently accepted his fate and left, sad and somewhat confused.

I don't wanna let you go

So I'm standing in your way

I never needed anyone like I'm needin' you today

The following two years Snape's hatred towards Sirius did not cool down; he used every opportunity to taunt Sirius, knowing fully well how to provoke him. The cold fury was still apparent in his glittering eyes; the fierce and jealous-like fire that had alighted in the Shrieking Shack incident hadn't quite died. Oddly enough he usually let Remus alone, just ignoring him icily. It hurt. Remus would rather have him fight him and cause fire to burn under his feet than pretend he didn't exist. He needed those dark, enigmatic eyes, even when the only thing they were willing to share was hate or cold indifference.

Rescue me from despair

Tell me you will be there

But now Sirius was dead. Remus realised he had lost all his best friends. James was dead; Peter was as good as dead. After Sirius's death he had been numb with grief all summer. But he couldn't afford to stay that way for long. The Order needed him. So he locked away the pain like he always did, bent his neck and went on with his life. He saw Snape a lot that autumn. He came by, sometimes as often as several times a week, to report to the group that gathered around the sturdy kitchen table at no. 12 Grimmauld Place. Remus always made sure to seat himself so he had a clear view of Snape. It was still a habit of his to study every detail of him; the way he carefully removed his black travelling cloak and hung it over the back of his chair, refusing anyone else to touch it; the way he thoughtfully traced his lips with a long white finger before answering questions put to him; the way his upper lip curled when he thought it beneath his dignity to answer the silly ones; the way he impatiently pushed back the black strands of oily hair from his face whenever he got restless; the way the same hair lightly followed the curve of his proud neck and ended up on his slightly rounded shoulders, framing a face with soft white skin and a strong, hooked nose giving his face character. Yes, definitely character. Especially with those fathomless black eyes with shadows moving in them. Always shadows moving in them, making them glitter strangely. Remus couldn't understand why he used to think they were cold. Snape's eyes were often expressionless, most of the time indifferent, often hateful, angry and resentful, even fearful at times, but never just cold. Not when they looked at him.

When this world's closing in

There's no need to pretend

Remus started. He had been so busy thinking about Snape, he hadn't noticed the meeting had ended and people were starting to get up from the table, quietly discussing the latest news. To his horror he discovered Snape had not only remained seated, but had noticed Remus was looking at him and was staring questioningly back, scowling slightly. It was a powerful stare. Remus found himself trembling under his gaze. The familiar yearning hit him like a bullet, and he almost groaned. He felt himself reddening under Snape's stare, wondering whether the others had noticed that something strange was going on between himself and the lean and dark-haired wizard on the other side of the table. Snape shot him a last, slightly alarmed look before he with an effort broke his gaze and looked away. But for the first time, Snape didn't seem in a hurry to leave Grimmauld Place. When Molly walked over to him more out of old habit than anything else to ask him if he'd like to stay for supper, he shot a quick glance in Remus's direction before silently replying something to Molly Remus couldn't hear. She looked surprised, but nodded briskly. She loaded a plate with food, filled a goblet with pumpkin juice and placed it on a tray, which she proceeded to carry upstairs. Snape followed her swiftly, his black cloak billowing in that very snapish way which Remus had come to love.

It didn't take long for Molly to be back down in the kitchen. While the other Order members were busy eating and talking, she walked silently over to Remus and whispered in his ear. He got up from the table, a little too fast perhaps for it not to look conspicuous. Snape of all people wanted to talk to - him? Remus forced himself to walk calmly. As soon as he was out of view from the others (a good thing Mad-Eye Moody was away on an assignment) he quickened his pace, taking care to tiptoe silently past Mrs. Black's portrait. He jumped the stairs two steps at a time and turned left when he reached the first floor, slightly out of breath and with his heart pounding. He paused shortly before knocking lightly at the door to the drawing room.

'Enter,' said a smooth voice on the other side of the door.

Remus opened the door and stepped inside the olive-green room. Snape was standing with his back to him, looking out of the window, the tray of food on the table behind him. He hadn't touched the food, but Remus, experienced in studying Snape's every move, could immediately tell he had taken a sip of his goblet; there was a slight stain on the rim, and a single drop of pumpkin juice slowly trickled down its side. Remus closed the door silently behind him, like a schoolboy not wanting to annoy his master.

'Er - you wanted to see me?'

Remus felt awkward being alone with Snape. His heart was still beating fast, and the inexplicable yearning was churning painfully around in his stomach, as strong as ever. The sight of Snape didn't help at all.

There was a long pause, then Snape slowly turned around to face Remus. He winced slightly when Snape raised his wand, but instead of pointing it at Remus the spell hit the door behind him, locking it. Remus wondered whether he locked the door because he didn't want anyone else to barge in, or because he didn't want Remus to escape whatever he had in store for him. Remus wasn't sure which of the options would be worse.

'Yes, I wanted to see you.'

Snape's soft voice sent shivers down Remus's spine. It always did that to him. Snape scowled; Remus could see his face working, as if he hadn't yet decided what do to with the stupid git standing in front of him. Almost grudgingly, he motioned Remus to sit down in the chair facing him. Remus swallowed. That would mean he'd have to cross the room and get way too close; he'd be forced to look the dark-haired man straight in the face. He was afraid of what he might see in those black eyes. He didn't really care about being cursed or hexed, or even hated. He realised that what he feared the most, was finding nothing in those dark tunnels.

Do I have to say the words?

Do I have to tell the truth?

He moved hesitantly across the room and sat down in the chair, forcing himself to look up into Snape's face. An awkward silence followed.

'Er, aren't you going to sit down too?' asked Remus. It felt rather uncomfortable to have Snape standing over him like that.

Snape traced a long, white finger across his thin lips, quietly studying Remus's face.

'I think I'll remain standing for now,' he replied softly. His eyes flickered from Remus to the food-tray. 'I've probably disturbed your supper. Have some - if you're hungry.'

He gestured towards the plate of food. Nice. Snape was making an honest attempt at being civil. Remus shook his head. Food was definitely the last thing on his mind right now. If he'd had some sense, he would have been whipping out his wand instead, ready for defensive action. He stole a quick glance down at his belt where he kept his wand. Snape smiled haughtily.

'Don't be stupid Lupin; you know you're no match for me in a duel.' Then, as in an afterthought, he added, 'What makes you think you might be needing your wand?'

Snape's black stare demanding an answer made Remus shiver again. Trying to keep his voice steady, he answered slowly, almost apologetically,

'Well, since there have been some disagreements in the past, I thought - well, that you might feel the need to voice some of the - frustration arising from it.'

'So you think you know all about what goes on in my head, do you,' Snape sneered.

Remus didn't answer. This conversation was not at all going in the direction he was hoping for.

Exasperated, Snape started to pace the room. Passing a mirror on the wall, Remus could see him frowning at his own reflection, as if he loathed the image of the man staring back at him. Snape turned back and stopped abruptly in front of Remus, boring his eyes into him. Baring his teeth, he whispered dangerously,

'On second thoughts, I wouldn't mind cursing you to smithereens, but I won't because I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of being right. So, lucky for you; you're relatively safe for now.'

Remus smiled slightly despite his nervousness. 'I suppose I should thank you then.'

Snape didn't reply, just flashed his eyes impatiently at him.

Another long pause.

'Are you absolutely certain you don't want to sit down? Remus asked timidly.

Snape just snorted at this and continued his pacing. Remus didn't know what to do; he was afraid anything he said or did would just make Snape angrier with him. So he did the only thing he mastered: He watched the man in front of him. Remus was hit by the fact that Snape was strangely attractive to him even when he was in a bad mood; that cloak swept so magnificently when he moved, and seeing Snape move made Remus happy; it was like watching an old, dear friend. Except that he wasn't an old dear friend but an old, dear enemy... Everything about Snape was familiar; he knew it so well. He especially liked the way his hair beat about his face when he turned his head abruptly. And how those sinewy hands with the long aristocratic fingers clenched and unclenched whenever he was particularly upset about something; like now.

Snape suddenly stopped pacing, staring right at Remus with that piercing, intimidating look he had cultivated to perfection. Remus swallowed and waited. But it didn't look like Snape was going to say something anytime soon, so Remus worked up his courage and asked for the second time,

'You wanted to see me about something?'

This time Snape looked unnerved. He shot a wary look at Remus, then finally answered apprehensively,

'I need to know why you are doing that.'

His skin colour turned slowly from white to a pale pink as he said this. Remus looked blankly back.

'I'm sorry. Doing - what?'

Snape's cheeks flushed a stronger colour of pink. He bared his teeth viciously and hissed back,

'Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! You just did it! Again!'

Remus was genuinely puzzled, but saying something, trying to explain that he didn't understand what Snape was talking about, felt very dangerous when Snape was in this mood. So he kept quiet.

Fuming, Snape started to pace again.

'You're enjoying forcing me to say it, aren't you. How thick can you get? I'm talking about the way you look at me. The way you practically studied me at the meeting tonight, and the way you watched me just seconds ago.'

Snape's eyes flickered, and the pink colour on his cheeks drained quickly as it was replaced by his normal skin colour, except it looked even paler than usual, Remus thought. Snape shot Remus the look of a hunted animal, then added silently,

'The way you have been looking at me for the last - twenty years.'

Snape deliberately did not look in Remus's direction. He came to a halt in front of the window, staring out of it again. Remus rested his eyes somewhere between Snape's shoulder blades. He needed something solid to look at, because his head had started spinning. Snape had noticed he had been watching him. Remus could feel his face reddening. He had noticed him watching him that way. Damn! Remus couldn't see how he would be able to weasel his way out of the drawing room now without getting a good beating. An overwhelming feeling washed over him. The familiar yearning threatened to tear his insides apart. He could feel tears pressing against his eyelids. No. He couldn't let his feelings get the better of him. Desperate, he let his eyes trace from Snape's back to his shoulders, then down his arms to his hands. Snape was gripping the windowsill so hard his knuckles were white. And did Remus's eyes play games with him, or were Snape's hands really shaking?

Think I hear thunder - ain't no sign of rain

Danger signs flashin' in my brain

'I - I'm sorry Severus,' Remus choked nervously. 'I honestly didn't mean to embarrass you by - by staring. I didn't know you noticed. I -'

He didn't know what else to say. How could he admit he couldn't keep his eyes off him; how could he possibly confess that he, a dirty, good-for-nothing werewolf, very much fancied the impeccable pureblood standing in front of him? It was too painful, too humiliating, too dangerous. Merlin's beard! How could he have been so daft, so foolish as to hopelessly fall in love with the one man in the whole world who truly hated his guts?

Snape took a deep breath and turned towards Remus. His eyes had a pained look about them. Shadows were moving in them, making them glitter strangely against his pallid skin. Then he opened his mouth and said slowly and deliberately, in that extraordinarily soft voice of his,

'I don't find that answer very satisfactory Lupin. I suggest you give it another try.'

Snape began moving towards him, and Remus wondered vaguely whether this was when he would whip out his wand and start cursing him. But his hand didn't move towards the wand in his belt. Instead he sat down on the sofa, reluctantly facing Remus. Remus blushed more furiously than ever, but he found he didn't care. He was lost in the depths of those dark, oddly beautiful eyes. Remus suddenly felt light-headed, and the longing and yearning were now throbbing so painfully through every inch of his body he was sure he would wind up with a splitting headache. He decided he couldn't take it any longer.

'I'm terribly sorry,' Remus whispered hoarsely. 'I - I know you'll never forgive me for saying so and - and you have of course every right to be mortally insulted that I feel this way, but the reason I have been watching you is because I find everything about you so - intriguingly - beautiful.'

And before he could stop himself, Remus had leant forward and grabbed Snape's hand like a drowning man. He could feel a shiver running through Snape's body as his hand closed on his. Remus shut his eyes momentarily. At last he could feel the real thing. And it was everything he had imagined and more. Hard, sinewy muscles were spilling deliciously beneath the soft white skin, making Remus's heart beat faster than ever before. He would have expected Snape to withdraw his hand immediately, but he didn't. So Remus opened his eyes. He was not surprised to see Snape looking startled, holding his breath in shock. The poor man's cheeks slowly started to flush. His eyes darted from Remus's face to his hand holding his, and back again. Then he exhaled quietly,

'You like - me.'

It was not so much a question as a statement, a flicker of comprehension mingled with disbelief in Snape's voice.

Do I have to shout it out?

Do I have to say a prayer?

Must I prove to you how good we are together?

Do I have to say the words

Remus opened his mouth, but no words escaped his lips. He couldn't see why, but amazingly, Snape didn't seem to want to curse and hex him after all. Not because he was very brave, he had never been really, but because he had never wanted anything more badly in his whole life, Remus slid out of his chair and found himself sitting right next to Snape on the sofa. Their eyes locked. Just like the time when fourteen-year-old Remus and Severus had bumped into each other in the corridors at Hogwarts, those mesmerizing eyes seemed to reassure him he was not in any imminent danger of being cursed. Feeling very daring, he moved his free hand, gingerly pushing one of those long, black strands of hair out of Snape's eyes. Remus had always wanted to do that, to explore what it was like to feel the raven-coloured hair between his fingers. To his wonder he found it felt light and heavy at the same time, indefinable like the man's dark eyes. Remus moved his hand further back, found a bigger handful of hair and finally came to a rest at the back of Snape's neck. Great gargoyle it felt good to touch him! A hundred times better than he had imagined it would be. And Snape still hadn't whipped out his wand cursing Remus to smithereens. Instead he let out an almost inaudible sigh as he closed his eyes, his body trembling at Remus's touch. It was all the encouragement Remus needed.

'I'll show you how much I like you,' he whispered huskily.

Snape's eyes opened wide in panic, but he didn't draw back as the werewolf's lips gently closed on his. Remus's breath hitched. It was electrifying. A wave of heat seared through him, stirring obscure parts of his body whose needs he for a long time had denied or even forgotten existed. Remus had never tasted anything better. Snape's lips felt so incredibly soft and vulnerable against his, but at the same time he could tell they could muster considerable amounts of strength when they wanted to. The thought made Remus feel rather faint.

Snape seemed to still be in a state of shock; he was rigid as a board, and his lips were unresponsive. Remus drew back and looked uncertainly at him. His eyes looked definitely blacker than usual, if such a thing was possible. They were so beautiful, more intensely alive than anything else Remus had ever seen. He let his gaze trail down to Snape's lips. They were moist and slightly red from Remus's kiss. They looked very inviting. And their owner still looked sort of - dazed. A most unusual state in which to find the Hogwarts Potions master, but not at all unbecoming, thought Remus. Rather charming actually, and it pleased the former DADA professor immensely that he was the one to have caused it. So he decided to risk it and moved in for a second kiss. And this time he could feel Snape responding, rather hesitantly and a bit bashfully, but still, there was no doubt about it: Snape was kissing him back! It could only mean he was feeling something for Remus as well. Remus could not hold back a moan. Finally the desperate yearning inside him had found its outlet.

The blissful moment was suddenly cut short when Snape abruptly pulled back. For a second fiery eyes burned into Remus's own, then Snape grabbed Remus firmly by the arm and roughly hoisted him up on his feet. Surprised and a little hurt, Remus backed away, but Snape merely loosened his grip around his arm and instead pushed him up against the wall, his lean hand surprisingly strong against Remus's chest. Remus could feel his heart thudding violently at the touch of Snape's hand. How he loved his touch, even when it hurt. He realised Snape could feel his heartbeats too, because he suddenly removed his hand as if it had been burnt. He backed away a step or two, looking at Remus with those dark eyes mirroring a mixture of pain and passion. Then he whispered hoarsely,

'Why did it take you so long to tell me? If I had known... You have no idea how I hated those obnoxious friends of yours for getting in my way, for never giving me the chance to get close to you.'

Remus's eyes widened.

'You mean - you hated James and Sirius and Peter - because of me?'

Snape curled his lips, answering haughtily,

'Did I say that? It's rather conceited of you to jump so quickly to conclusions, don't you think? I've always found plenty of reasons for hating their guts, thank you very much.'

Of course. Still, Remus couldn't help but notice how Snape wasn't quite meeting his eyes as he said this, almost looking a bit - unsettled.

Remus could feel tears pressing against his eyelids again.

'I'm truly sorry for all those years of anguish,' Remus replied softly. 'If you want to hex me for the rest of my life, I'm all yours.'

Snape's eyes glittered.

'As a matter of fact, I do. But judging from the way you've been staring at me, it seems you're already thoroughly bewitched mister. Not much left for me to do, is there.'

Remus blushed.

'Nothing gets past you Severus; I should have remembered. Well, will you let me off the hook then?'

'Let you off the hook?' Snape replied slowly, edging closer to Remus again. 'That, Remus John Lupin, would be against my very nature, as you perfectly well know. And as it happens, I'm rather pleased with my catch. Nah, I think I'll - keep it...'

At this Snape whipped out his wand so fast Remus jumped. Snape smiled slightly as he traced the tip of the wand across Remus's throat, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

'Do you mind?'

'Do I have a choice?' Remus breathed, glad he was pressed against the wall so his knees didn't give away that easily.

'Not if you don't want to be cursed into oblivion,' Snape replied smugly.

'You think I'm afraid of what you can do to me with your wand?' Remus said, disgusted. 'Nah, I'm way beyond fearing pain or ridicule. I'm more worried about what those eyes of yours can do to me.'

'Is that right?' replied Snape, watching Remus closely. 'And what exactly can they do?'

Remus couldn't stop himself from blushing again.

'I've felt in every fibre of my being what they can do to me, Severus. They have the power to make me perfectly happy - or utterly miserable. They're the reason I want to live, even when they make me despair,' Remus whispered hoarsely, feeling a tremble going through his body at the dark gaze boring into him.

At Remus's words, shadows were dancing in Snape's eyes, making them glitter again, making Remus breath faster. Remus vaguely noticed his knees were shaking so badly he might not be able to stand on his feet for much longer. Snape was now so close Remus could feel his hot breath against his skin. Feeling positively faint, he edged to the left in a desperate need to cool down. But aided by his excellent reflexes, Snape quickly reached out to lean against the wall, blocking his way. Remus feebly tried to edge the other way. This time Snape moved his left arm, but instead of attempting to block his path, the palm of his hand came to a rest across Remus's chest. It didn't hurt this time. It was a gentle touch, a touch asking him not to leave. It was a touch asking for more.

Remus looked up into Snape's face again and tried to say something intelligible, but only a tiny cough managed to escape his throat. Snape's black eyes met his, and those thin lips of his slowly split into a soft smile. A lovely, perfectly genuine smile - meant for no one else but him. This was it; Remus's legs didn't want to carry him any longer. But the hook-nosed wizard, though a little awkwardly at first, gently wrapped his arms around Remus, drawing him closer, supporting him. This time it was Snape who boldly moved in for a kiss. Remus thought his heart was about to jump out of his chest, that's how strong the sensation hit him. The last thing he remembered saying before his mind went deliciously blank, was,

'Severus, would you care to consider making my life worth living for another twenty years?'

Snape pulled back. To Remus's unease he looked slightly affronted, his lips parting in a half sneer.

'I happen to be the kind of wizard who always takes a pride in finishing whatever task I set for myself, no matter the cost. That's why, regrettably, my answer is no.' Snape paused, slowly tracing a long white finger across Remus's cheek, sending shivers down his spine. 'Doubtlessly your greatest weakness is your pitiful modesty, Remus. Ask for the next fifty, or why not, while you're at it, the next hundred years, and my answer will be another. I cannot give you anything less than the rest of my wretched life. It's all or nothing. That's who I am. The question is whether you are brave enough to take me on.'

Remus was rendered speechless, but the way his eyes blackened and the very Gryffindor way he passionately and purposefully bore down on Snape hugging him so tightly it hurt, told the Potions master everything he needed to know. And he couldn't help but gracefully accept the promises embedded in the deep and fervent kiss that followed.

I can't believe this moment's come

It's so incredible that we're alone

There's so much to be said and done

It's impossible not to be overcome

Will you forgive me if I feel this way

Cuz we've just met - tell me that's okay

So take this feeling 'n make it grow

Never let it - never let it go

Now would you mind if I bared my soul

If I came right out and said you're beautiful

Cuz there's something here I can't explain

I feel I'm diving into driving rain

You get my senses running wild

I can't resist your sweet, sweet smile

So take this feeling 'n make it grow

Never let it - never let it go

I've been waiting all my life

To make this moment feel so right

The feel of you just fills the night

So c'mon - just hold on tight

(from Bryan Adams's 'Don't Let Go')

Downstairs, the Order members were exchanging nervous glances, straining their ears for sounds of angry shouting or fighting, wondering whether Remus needed rescuing. But Dumbledore had assured them, with a twinkle in the eye, that he didn't think the werewolf would be needing it any time soon. After all, no one could outdo Severus when it came to brewing the Wolfsbane Potion! The puzzled looks all around the table told him what he had just said made little sense; maybe there was something to the rumours claiming he was losing his marbles. It didn't bother Albus the least though; it was a usual thing.

'Interesting, isn't it,' smiled Dumbledore, leaning closer to McGonagall as he whispered to her, 'how my good friend Severus painstakingly set about learning how to brew the particularly complex Wolfsbane Potion, when the only werewolf he knows personally; in fact the only werewolf so far who has benefited from his toil, is one he supposedly hates so much he'd rather eat slugs than seek to lessen his afflictions...'

McGonagall raised her eyebrows questioningly.

'You mean you didn't make him concoct the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus?'

'Never had to,' Dumbledore replied serenely, folding his hands on his stomach as he looked contentedly around the table at his friends.

McGonagall sat rigid in her chair for a moment, frowning slightly; then comprehension dawned on her face. Her jaw dropped as her sharp eyes fixed on the door leading out of the kitchen to the stairs.

'Say no more,' Dumbledore chuckled.

McGonagall sat silent for a while, but then she cleared her throat.

'You know I'm not the type of person who lightly approves of such a silly notion as - romantic love,' she said, pursing her lips. But when she continued, her expression softened. 'But I must say that for once I believe the wizards in question truly deserve each other.'

'I knew you would,' Dumbledore answered softly, removing his half moon spectacles to wipe off what must have been invisible specks of dust.

The End