Wicked Game I

Notes: There will be a total of three stories in the Wicked Game series. The first one is set at the beginning of PoA, and will follow the thread of the story, only from Snape and Lupin's POVs. Some dialogue is quoted directly from PoA.

 

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, hundreds of white candles hung, suspended in midair, filling the room with a muted glow. Shadows danced on the walls, flickering with a life of their own, forming strange shapes that sometimes seemed independent of the objects or person casting them. Perhaps they were.

Not a single drop of wax marred the tables or floor despite the multitude of candles, and their soft golden light gave the spacious hall an intimate air and drew out hidden beauty: fair skin was illuminated to translucence; harsh features were softened; dark skin appeared burnished. But it was all wasted on one participant in the evening's festivities.

Severus Snape perched like a malevolent vulture on his chair at the head table, glaring at anyone who looked as if they might be even thinking of approaching him. He crossed his arms across his chest, the voluminous black folds hiding what little sallow skin his robes revealed, concealing himself in shadow, as he wished. Framed by his dark hair, Snape's face appeared almost ghostly, his expression closed and forbidding.

Around him, students gazed at the Headmaster, interrupted from their laughter and chatter by the usual beginning-of-the-year speech; they had tumbled into the Hall, excited about reuniting with their friends, full of stories about their summer adventures. The noise and relentless good cheer had given Snape a headache, and he was, unfortunately, at least an hour or more away from escape to the quiet solitude of his dungeon.

"On a happier note," Albus Dumbledore continued, casting his serene gaze across the Great Hall, seeming to meet the eyes of every student there. "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Snape turned his head slowly to stare at Lupin, who acknowledged the sparse applause that greeted Dumbledore's announcement with a small, calm smile. He sat up straight, his hands folded neatly in his lap, but his thin face was etched with fatigue,and the strain across his shoulders spoke of the effort he made not to reveal his weariness.

But Snape saw it plainly enough. It was there, for anyone who cared to look and see.

Snape didn't care.

Dumbledore was still talking, but he didn't care about that, either.

He was looking at a Remus Lupin who was older. Whose thick brown hair was turning grey. Whose features were too sharp, whose body was too thin. Who looked too tired.

That was at whom he looked.

The Remus Lupin he saw had eyes that still held a mischievous sparkle. Whose face was unlined. Whose cheeks were full and tinted with the rosy bloom of youth and health. Who stood at the side of Sirius Black.

The snarl curling Snape's lip was not for the Lupin who sat at the head table with him, but for the phantom Sirius Black beside him, and for the memories that particular ghost of the past brought back.

"Look at the infant! Is it even old enough to be here?"

"Stupid little first year can't even stay on its broom! It's too small!"

"Aww, look at the ickle baby! Whatsamatter? Want your books back? Come get 'em!"

Snape's features darkened further, his eyes glittering with old malice as he fell deeper into the past.

An endless litany of names.

An endless round of stolen books and quills, "accidental" shoves, and the like.

One voice in the wilderness.

"Push off, then. Leave him alone. He's done nothing to you... There. That's got them all. What's you rname?... All right, now, Severus?"

One carelessly kind boy. One golden moment in a mire of torture.

He was too little, too smart, too ugly. He was in the wrong house, he had the wrong body, he had the wrong life. Those were the messages he heard every day, the ones they tried --and failed -- to brand on his soul.

But one day, he would show them. One day,it would be his turn, and he would show them all how useless their attempts to break him had been.

A childish vow, nurtured by the sting of embarrassment and the slow burn of resentment. Funny how years later, he still carried the anger that had fueled it. He had forgotten nothing. Not a single insult. Not a single "prank." Especially not the moment when what little hope had nestled within him died, strangled by fear when he realized how close he had come to injury or death -- and who had led him there.

Oh, no. He had forgotten nothing.

And now his past had returned once more. Had invaded the sanctuary he had created for himself, where he had grown more complacent with every year that passed, more certain that nothing could hurt him again. That he was safe from the memories.

Once his hope.

Nearly his murderer.

Remus Lupin was back at Hogwarts.

* * * * *

"Orange, Longbottom."

Snape's lip curled, and his nostrils flared as he winced away from the acrid tang of Neville Longbottom's flawed potion. After years of practice and experience, he had developed a knack for knowing when a potion had gone wrong, not only by sight, but by scent as well, an ability which had served him well over the years -- especially when dealing with his students' concoctions.

"Orange."

He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming on, and it was still early days yet. God, but this didn't bode well for the rest of the term.

"Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours?"

"It's a simple kick-off. Any two year old could master it on a toy broom. Why are you having such a hard time with it?"

"Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

"How many times do I have to explain it to you, Snape? Oh, for God's sake, just give it up. I hope you learn to Apparate better than this, or you'll end up having to use Muggle transport to get anywhere."

"Please, I could help Neville put it right."

"Maybe you should ask Potter to tutor you."

"I don't remember asking you to show off." His voice was as cold and clipped as he could make it.

In front of him, Longbottom stood shivering, eyes as huge as saucers and brimming over with unshed tears, and Snape forced himself not to recoil physically from the loathsome sight.

Buck up, Longbottom! he thought, glaring down at the terrified boy. Come on -- stand up for yourself, you little custard! Don't you realize the more you take, the more you'll get?

But Longbottom said nothing, and Snape's contempt doubled.

"We'll be testing it on your toad at the end of this lesson," he snapped. "Perhaps that will give you sufficient incentive to get it right."

He swept back toward his desk, wishing the lesson were already over; he heard whispers from behind him, but he ignored them. He had thought classes would provide distraction from the unpleasant memories dredged up by Remus Lupin's return, but apparently, the ghosts had risen and were determined to haunt him, no matter what he did.

Damn the man.

Why did he come back here, of all places? The world was a large enough place. Surely they could have plodded through the rest of their lives without ever having seen each other again.

"Professor Snape, sir?" A timid voice cut through his reverie, and he glanced down to see a fourth year girl standing at his elbow, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

"What?" he demanded, rounding on her, and she squeaked in alarm as she held out a small scroll.

"From the Headmaster, sir," she whispered. "Wanted you to have it right away."

Snape snatched the parchment from her hand, and she fled without waiting for him to read it, much less respond.

A summons.

Oh, grand. Just grand. This was exactly what he needed to cap off his day: his presence requested in Dumbledore's office at five o'clock. He had an idea of what this meeting would be about; he had, in fact, been expecting it. He wasn't the only one who kept up with the latest developments in potions, after all.

Crumpling the scroll in his fist, he stalked to the shelves, seeking one bottle in particular among the completed potions he kept on-hand along with all the individual ingredients. There it was -- a dark blue bottle, small and unobtrusive.

"Why do you love potions so much?" Lupin's voice had been filled with curiosity, not derision, and for that reason, Snape had given an honest answer.

"Any fool can wave a wand. There's an art to brewing potions. It takes talent and skill, and I have both."

He grabbed the bottle, tossed the scroll on his desk, and eased the stopper out of the bottleneck. He was aware that his students were watching his every move. Let them, he thought. Holding the bottle well above the parchment, he carefully tapped out a single drop, a grim smile curving his thin lips as the drop splattered on the parchment, which smoldered, curled in on itself, and disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

Not the most mature reaction, to be sure, but immensely satisfying nonetheless. And at least it gave his thick-witted class a practical lesson in the true power of potions.

* * * * *

"Ah, Severus. So glad you could join us."

Remus turned to look at the Potions Master as he entered Albus' office, giving him a polite smile that wasn't returned. Severus glared at Albus, not even acknowledging that Remus was in the room at all.

"Your message didn't indicate choice was involved," Severus replied. "What do you want, Headmaster?"

With a quiet sigh, Remus leaned back in his chair. So that was how it was going to be, was it? He had thought-- hoped -- time and distance had eased the animosity Severus had felt when they graduated, but apparently, all the old feelings were still there, as strong as ever.

He watched as Severus accepted Albus' invitation to be seated, sitting on the edge of the chair, his posture ramrod straight, poised as if he intended to make his escape as soon as possible.

In Remus' memories, Severus was still a tall, thin, gawky teenager with a big nose and intense dark eyes. He remembered how Severus had been a target for so long, keenly intelligent and in Slytherin to boot. He'd hoped the pecking order among the houses had eased up somewhat, but it hadn't, not even with the lull in Voldemort's influence between his generation and this one. Gryffindor was still the "best" house, and Slytherin was still the "worst."

Actually, Severus as a boy -- small for his age, slight of build, dark-haired -- had been similar in appearance to Harry, but Remus doubted either of them would appreciate the comparison, he thought, hiding a small smile behind his fingers.

But then in the summer of his sixteenth year, Severus had begun having growth spurts, and when classes resumed in the fall, he had returned to Hogwarts looking quite different, which had only garnered him a different kind of teasing.

"Well, you *have* sprouted up, haven't you?"

Severus looked at Remus with disdain."I suppose you'll want to accuse me of using a potion to change my appearance, too."

"No, I just thought you'd grown up a bit. It happens to all of us."

But now, the gawky thinness of adolescence had bloomed into adulthood. Severus' shoulders were broad, his chest had filled out, and even his face was fuller, although his nose was still too big for his features. His eyes, though... His dark eyes were just as intense as Remus remembered, although now they were shadowed -- with what, he couldn't yet read. Two deep lines cut grooves on either side of Severus' mouth, framing lips which he knew could be hard with disapproval, or, more rarely, pliant.

Oh, yes, all the old feelings were indeed still there.

"Your skills are needed, Severus," Albuswas saying, but the compliment appeared lost on its intended recipient, who remained stone-faced and said nothing. "You'll have heard, I suppose, of a potion recently developed that can ease the suffering of those afflicted with lycanthropy?"

"Of course." Clipped words, forced through stiff lips.

"It's terribly complicated, something only the most advanced Potions Masters should dare attempt," Dumbledore continued, his tone casual as he leaned his elbows on his desk and focused his bright blue gaze on Severus. "I've no doubt you're up to the task."

"You want me to concoct this potion, once a month. For him," he grated the words out, without even glancing at Remus. "Is this a request or an order?"

"I should like it to be a request,"Dumbledore replied, his mild tone infused with a slight hint of steel.

"Albus, there's always the old solution--" Remus spoke up at last, hating to see Severus forced into a situation he clearly didn't want to be in.

"No!"

For the first time, Severus looked at him, whirling to face him with a snarl, relentless fury glittering in his eyes.

"Potter and his friends are carrying on old traditions," he said coldly. "I would dislike seeing history repeat itself when this time, there is an alternative. I'll brew the damned potion."

Remus returned his gaze steadily. "Thankyou, Severus." He paused, then added, "For the students' sake, not myown."

Severus' expression grew even harder andmore closed, and he turned away. "Are we finished here?" he askedAlbus, who nodded and waved vaguely towards the door.

Another sigh escaped Remus as he watchedSeverus rise to his feet and stalk out of the room, black robesbillowing in his wake, but as soon as the door closed behind thePotions Master, Albus' voice jolted him out of his reverie.

"You've quite a task ahead of you, I'dsay."

"I beg your pardon?" Remus darted astartled look at the older man. Was he so easy to read? But then,this was Albus Dumbledore, after all, the wizard who seemed to haveeyes not only on the back of his head, but also conveniently placedaround the entire castle as well.

Albus chuckled warmly. "Our Severus is astubborn man," he said, fishing a foil-wrapped sweet from a jar onhis desk. "And he's been through much since last you met. It'schanged him." He unwrapped the sweet and popped it into his mouth,then picked up the jar and offered it to Remus, who accepted a pieceof candy with a polite smile. "However, I'm an optimist at heart, andI believe you'll be able to mend fences with him -- eventually. Hecan bebrought round to listen and accept the truth. It will simply take agreat deal of time and patience." His eyes glittered with amusement.

"I have plenty of both."

"I wish you luck, then! I do enjoy seeingall my faculty getting along." At that proclamation, Albus laughedheartily, and Remus laughed with him, feeling lighter than he hadsince his arrival at Hogwarts.

For the first time in a long time, he feltsomething that seemed akin to hope.

* * * * *

His quarters were a little smaller thanthose of some of the other faculty members. That was what Remus hadbeen told when he'd arrived, and Professor Dumbledore had seemedapologetic about it, as if he was concerned Remus might feel slightedin some way. But looking around, Remus found the words of a famousMuggle writer coming to mind: "I could be bound in a nutshell andcount myself king of infinite space." That was exactly how he feltabout his new quarters. After the poverty he'd suffered in the yearssince graduating from Hogwarts, he would have been happy to havefound shelter in a broom closet here, as long as he could have calledit his own.

He couldn't remember when he'd last livedanywhere without the worry of whether he'd be able to scrape togetherenough money to pay for the next month's rent, or how long he couldmake his meager food supplies last. Now those worries were lifted,and he could scarcely believe it was true.

Circling the parlor, he trailed his handalong the backs of chairs, along the surface of the desk, along themantelpiece, along the windowsills, as if by touching everything, hecould convince himself it was all real. In what few lodgings he hadstayed in that provided furniture, none of them had had anything likethis. His idea of luxury had been a rickety stool and a crate for atable.

Now he had two whole rooms plus a bath,furnished with everything he could need and more. There was even astand for an owl cage in one corner, but it would remain unused whileRemus stayed in this room. He had never been able to afford an owl,and he was reluctant to spend his salary even though ProfessorDumbledore had given him a little advance on his first month's pay.It had probably been a kind and subtle hint for him to buy himselfsome new robes, but he had been through too many lean times, and hefelt safer hoarding the money instead. There would, he felt certain,come a time when he would need it.

The over-stuffed wingback chairs next tothe fire were inviting, but he still felt like a guest at times,waiting for their proper owner to walk in and tell him his stay hadended.

And the bed!

The first night here, he'd made a flyingleap onto the bed and wallowed around on it just because it was sodamned big, and it was all his. After countless nights sleeping on acot or, in his darker times, curled up in nothing more than his cloakon the floor, it felt odd being able to spread out if he liked, andto have thick covers keeping him warm all night long.

Wandering into the bedroom, he foundhimself standing in front of the full-length mirror, staring at theimage reflected back at him. Raising both hands to his face, hetraced the sharp edge of his cheekbones, appalled by this gaunt,shabby version of himself. How long would it take, he wondered, untilhe began looking less like a scarecrow and more like the memory ofhis former self that was still so clear in his mind?

It was a vicious cycle. He couldn't get ajob because he looked disreputable, and he looked disreputablebecause he couldn't get a job. And the few times he'd been able toget a job, he hadn't been able to hold it more than a few monthsbefore people began piecing the puzzle together. Thank God for AlbusDumbledore, he thought. This was a life-saver for him, perhapsliterally.

His thoughts turned to his first day as ateacher, and he was fairly pleased. The students seemed to enjoy hislessons. Perhaps a bit too much in some cases, he thought with agrimace, remembering Neville and the Snape-shaped boggart. No doubtthat juicy little tale was already being circulated among thestudents, and it was a matter of time before Severus heard it.Perhaps it would be best if he warned Severus of it himself.

With a little sigh, he scrubbed his facewith his hands, trying to wipe away his fatigue and mentally bracinghimself for another encounter with Severus. Neither of their meetingsthat day had gone well, and he suspected the only reason Severus hadspoken to him at all in the staffroom was because he wanted to make apoint about poor Neville.

It didn't take long for him to make hisway down to the dungeons, and he saw the door to Severus' officestanding open as he rounded a curve in the hall, torchlightflickering from within. He stopped and knocked politely on the dooreven though it was open, and Severus looked up from whatever he wasworking on, scowling when he saw Remus standing on his threshold.

"What do you want?" he demanded brusquely,and Remus took that to be the closest thing to an invitation as he'dget.

"I thought you may as well hear the newsfrom me first," he said quietly, moving towards Severus' desk. "WhenNeville helped me subdue the boggart, it assumed your shape, and hedefeated it by dressing you -- it -- in his grandmother's clothes."

There was a very long moment of veryuncomfortable silence.

"Did he."

"Yes." Something, his own inner imp ofmischief perhaps, prompted him to add in his most grave tone, "Therewas even a hat and a red handbag."

"Were there."

"I'm sorry, Severus," he said, and hemeant it; the last thing he wanted to do was widen the yawning chasmbetween them. "It wasn't my intent to embarrass you in any way, butthe fact remains, you are Neville's greatestfear. I understand what you're trying to do--"

Severus leapt to his feet and banged bothfists on the desk.

"You understand nothing about me!" he snarled.

"Perhaps not now, but I did once, and youknow it," he replied in a calm, even tone, bracing his hands on thedesk as well, capturing and holding Severus' gaze.

Severus' glittering black eyes never leftRemus' own tawny brown, but neither man flinched or looked away, andRemus witnessed the exact moment when memory sparked in thoseobsidian depths.

"Severus, you'd spare yourself some ofthese problems if you were only a little nicer..."

"*Nicer*?" Severus whirled to face him,face set in lines of fury. "Are you mad? I know these vultures,Remus. I've been their prey for years. One hint of niceness, andthey'd smell blood. My bones would be picked clean in a heartbeat.Oh, no. I won't play nice just to worm my way into their good graces.I won't play their petty games. They aren't worth it. This is *me*,"he cried passionately, thumping his fist against his chest.

"This is who I am. Like me or not asyou will, but do *not* expect me to change for anyone. I will *not*be pressured or shamed into being anything less than I am, and ifbeing intelligent, talented and Slytherin, if wanting to -- Godforbid! -- follow the rules set down for us in these dangerous timesmeans that in their narrow estimations, there's something *wrong*with me, the problem is theirs, not mine."

He stood, trembling, and Remus took ahesitant step towards him, unsure of what to say or do.

"One day," Severus continued in a low,cold voice. "I'll find people who will appreciate my abilitiesinstead of mock them, who will accept me as I am rather than scorn mefor not fitting their idiotic ideas of what it means to be 'normal'.If changing myself to suit them is what it would take to fit in, thenno, thank you! I'd rather live out my life a hermit than turn intoone of them!"

"Severus, *I'm* one of them," hepointed out softly.

"No, you're not. If you were, youwouldn't be here now. You'd be whispering and laughing at me behindmy back with the rest of them. You're different, just like I am." Hepaused, and for the first time, Remus saw something that came veryclose to being a smile curve Severus' lips. "Only you're far kinderand more patient."

"Neville Longbottom isn't like you," Remussaid, trying to be as careful and tactful as he could. "He cares whatpeople think of him. God help him, he cares what you think, becauseyou're his teacher. He doesn't possess the kind of willful streak youdo that lets you to tell the world to piss off and mean it. If hedid, then what you're trying to do would work, but as it is, you'reonly terrifying him into being completely unable to function in yourclass."

For a moment, Remus thought he sawunderstanding flicker in Severus' eyes. For a moment, he thoughtperhaps he'd broken through the first wall.

And then Severus drew himself up andstared down his nose at Remus, his mouth twisted in a disdainfulsneer.

"Don't presume to tell me how to teach myclasses or handle my students, Lupin," he said in a voice drippingwith ice.

With that, he sat down and resumed work,and Remus backed away, recognizing the cutting dismissal and knowingto stay would do far more harm than good. Dumbledore was right: itwould take time and patience to wear down those thick defenses, andhe couldn't expect success on the first attempt. He harbored noillusions that they would ever again share their former rapport, butperhaps with time, they could at least reach a peacefulunderstanding.

If hecould ever get Severus to listen to him.

That was going to be the real challenge,but they were both here, and Severus wouldn't be able to avoid orignore him all the time. Meanwhile, Remus would wait, watching forthe perfect moment to close in.

No, if Severus thought he could escapeforever, he was quite, quite wrong. One day, he would listen. Oneday, he would hear the truth. And after that... well, at least afterthat, there would be no more reason for Severus to harbor hostilityagainst him, and that's all that really mattered. He didn't hope formore. Having a cordial relationship with Severus would be more thanenough.

At least, that's what he kept tellinghimself.

* * * * *

Given the unfortunate incident with theboggart, Remus decided that a subtle approach might be best for atime. He had initially planned to approach Severus in a more directmanner, making it clear that he intended to hang about until Severusgave in and consented to the serious talk they needed to have inorder to settle matters between them. That plan, however, was likelyto be met with redoubled resistance now, and he settled on lessobvious means: making small talk at meals, giving him a smile and apolite greeting when they passed in the halls, sending regularreports on the progress of the Slytherin students.

But Severus' ability to deflect all theselittle overtures was nothing short of phenomenal. There was no signof relenting in even the slightest degree, and after a time, Remusdecided a change in tactics was in order.

His next opportunity arose on the day ofthe third years' first outing to Hogsmeade. He could have gone aswell, of course, but he was expecting a delivery, and even if thegrindylow hadn't been due to arrive, he would have remained at theschool. There was no need to venture into town and expose himself tothe lure of the shops; after years of privation, he doubted he couldresist temptation, especially when he remembered Honeyduke's.

No, he was much better off staying atHogwarts and keeping his money in his pocket. As it turned out, itwas for the best, since it meant he was on hand when Harry wanderedby, looking lost and alone. He invited the lad into his office,hoping to offer some distraction for a while. He knew it wouldn't bemuch -- having tea with a teacher was hardly enough to make up forbeing left behind when one's friends were all off having a grand timein Hogsmeade -- but at least he was able to ease Harry's mind aboutwhy he hadn't been allowed to fight the boggart.

Harry had been on the verge of askingsomething else, something about the dementors, when he wasinterrupted by a knock on the door, and they both glanced up to seewho walked in when Remus invited the visitor to enter.

Severus. Bearing a goblet.

Remus froze for an instant, apprehensive.Harry was an inquisitive boy, and he would probably ask questions,which meant Remus would have to think of some answers to placate him,fast.

"Ah, Severus. Thanks very much."

He mustered a smile, but neither Severusnor Harry were paying much attention to him. They were too busyregarding each other with suspicion.

Harry was too young to hide much of whathe was feeling, and Remus could almost see him itching to knock thegoblet out of Severus' hand.

"Could you leave it here on the desk forme?"

Without a word, Severus placed the gobleton the desk, and the steam from the potion within rose between them,momentarily forming a veil to obscure them from each other's sight.The steam, the pungent scent of the potion, Severus' face on theother side of a thin mist...

"You're a hopeless bungler, Remus,"Severus said, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice as hetook the vial of death's-head moth antennae out of Remus' hand andset it aside. "Look, it's very simple, if you just pay attention.Think about what each ingredient does, and the possible effects ifyou put them all together. It makes sense, then, doesn't it?"

"Of course, Severus," Remus replied, asmile twitching his lips.

"Then *why* in God's name were youabout to put death's-head moth antennae into a shrinking solution?"

"Because I like watching you getannoyed trying to explain things to me."

Severus narrowed his eyes, his mouththinning into a displeased line. "If this is merely a joke to you--"

"No, no, it isn't." Remus rested hishand on Severus' arm, giving him a conciliatory look, and to hissurprise, the light touch wasn't shaken off. "I'm sorry, I was onlyteasing. My best subject is Transfiguration, you know that. I'vealways been weak in Potions."

He glanced down at his simmeringcauldron, regarding the dubious results of his attempt at a shrinkingsolution with a rueful smile. "I appreciate your help, I really do.When you're talking, I can tell you can see it in your head, and howeverything falls right into place for you, but it doesn't for me.Sometimes, I get flashes of understanding when you explain things tome, but it's just memorization work, for the mostpart."

Professor Mugwort, Hogwarts' Potionsinstructor at the time, had assigned Severus to be Remus' partner inclass. Mugwort hadn't been a Potions Master, but he had been goodenough and honest enough to recognize talent when he saw it, and hehad known Severus Snape would surpass him. Thus he had paired hisbrightest student with his...

With his bungler, Remus laughed to himself. Call it as it was, hethought. He was at the head of the class in Transfiguration, but whenit came to Potions, he was mediocre at best. Mugwort had wantedSeverus to work with Remus, helping him since Mugwort couldn't givehis students the one-on-one time and attention they might have neededdue to the size of the classes, which had been larger then than theywere now, since thanks to Voldemort, Harry's generation were thinnerin the ranks.

It was a far more successful arrangementthan anyone expected it to be, given the animosity between Gryffindorand Slytherin in general, and between Severus and some of hisclassmates in particular.

But Remus had liked Severus from thebeginning. He couldn't have said why, because Severus had always beenjust as sneeringly condescending to him as he was to everyone else.Perhaps his instincts were at work, telling him there was someoneworth knowing beneath the scowls and "draw near me at your peril"body language. Perhaps Severus had been right that they were bothdifferent from everyone else, and he'd been drawn to a kindredspirit. Whatever the reason, they had developed a harmoniouspartnership in class, and a budding friendship out of it.

Much like Neville and Hermione, Remusthought. According to Neville, he worked most often with Hermione inPotions, and Remus wondered if Severus allowed it for the samereasons Professor Mugwort had thrown him with Remus. Not that Severuswould ever admit it, of course. He'd scoff and bluster and assureRemus the notion was ridiculous. But still...

"I was just showing Harry my grindylow,"he said, dragging himself back to the present before Severus couldleave. He wanted to throw out something -- anything -- that mightmake Severus remain; he even had the notion of inviting him to jointhem for tea, but with the way Severus and Harry were glaring at eachother, that didn't seem like the wisest idea.

"Fascinating." Severus' tone made it clearhe was anything but fascinated. "You should drink that directly,Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," Remus assured him.

"I made an entire cauldronful, if you needmore," Severus added, and Remus saw his opportunity to pounce on theexcuse to arrange another meeting between them, hopefully in privatethis time.

"I should probably take some againtomorrow," he said casually. "Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all." With that, Severus left, andjust as Remus had expected, Harry was eyeing both the goblet and himwith unabashed curiosity.

"Professor Snape has very kindly concocteda potion for me," he said, deciding to launch into an explanationbefore an interrogation could begin. "I've never been much of apotion brewer, and this one is particularly complex." He reached forthe goblet, sniffing it gingerly and trying not to recoil from theacrid tang wafting to his nose. "I've been feeling a bit off-color,"he added with a small smile at his own understatement. "This potionis the only thing that helps. I'm very lucky to be working alongsideProfessor Snape. There aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

Let Harry chew on that, he thought. Perhaps Severus' teaching techniquesweren't as effective as they might be, but he was a Potions Masterfor a reason, and Remus had a feeling that his students lost sight ofthat in their dislike for his arrogance and impatience. It wouldn'thurt to issue a reminder that, despite any personal feelings for theman, his students should at least respect his abilities, for theywere indeed worthy of respect.

"Professor Snape's very interested in theDark Arts," Harry blurted out.

"Really?" Remus took another healthyswallow of the potion, unable to keep from making a face. For God'ssake, what did Severus do? Add the most sour,rancid ingredients he possessed just to make it as disgusting aspossible?

"Some people reckon..." Harry hesitated,obviously uncertain whether he should continue. "Some people reckonhe'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."

Outwardly, Remus ignored this comment and,holding his breath, concentrated on getting the rest of theconcoction down. Inwardly, however, he was saddened. How unreachableSeverus must have become if his students knew so little about himthat they thought, even for an instant, he would ever give upPotions. Remus had no idea how or why the ugly rumor Harry parrotedhad started, but unless Severus had changed out of all recognition,Remus knew there was no truth to it.

Cut Severus Snape's veins open, and he'dprobably bleed a Deflating Draught.

To Remus, it seemed tragic his studentsdidn't understand that.

* * * * *

The school was abuzz with nervous gossipthe next day, thanks to the terrifying events of the night before.Remus could scarcely credit what he'd heard. Sirius Black inHogwarts? How had he gotten in?

I don't need to wonder*why*, Remus thought with the firsttouch of bitterness he'd felt in a long time. Even after all theseyears, the betrayal hurt, but he was no longer angry. Sirius was acreature of thoughtless, careless impulse and hot, relentless temper,and he had betrayed Remus once before, so it shouldn't have come asmuch of a surprise.

"C'mon, Remus, you lead. You've got thebest nose of all of us. You can smell trouble coming!" Sirius gaveRemus a playful shove to the front of their little group as theystood, peering into the secret tunnel they'd discovered.

Peter drew back, hesitant, but Jamesseemed eager to explore, and Remus laughed.

"All right, but you stay up here withme," he replied, slanting a teasing smile at the other young man. "IfI smell any trouble, *you* can go meet it, as usual."

"Deal!" Sirius slung one arm aroundRemus' shoulders as they proceeded down the tunnel, and Remus couldbarely keep himself from beaming with delight, in danger of lettinghimself get drunk on the sensory overload from the delicious weightof Sirius' arm around him, and the warm scent of Sirius' skin in suchclose proximity.

Desire spiked within him, and hequickly squelched it. Sirius loved girls -- lots of girls, as oftenas possible -- and Remus wasn't about to spoil a precious, rarefriendship over a mere crush. He would simply enjoy what he wasoffered, when he was offered it, and hope that one day, he'd findsomeone he found just as interesting as he did Sirius, only nexttime, he hoped it would be someone who could *return* his interest.

Remus blinked back the sting of tears hissudden lapse into memory had caused, and shook his head, dispellingthe last nostalgic cobwebs. What had happened, had happened. Therewas nothing he could do to change it. All that he could do now wasprotect Harry as best he could.

His gaze fell on the goblet Severus hadbrought, and he was abruptly reminded that he'd said he wanted asecond draught, just to be on the safe side. Scooping up the goblet,he wound his way along the corridors and down to the dungeon, findingSeverus alone in his office once more.

"I've come for another dose," he said,holding out the goblet as he approached.

Severus stood up and watched him, but saidnothing until he placed the goblet on the desk and stepped back towait for it to be refilled.

"What do you know about Sirius Black?"Severus demanded without preamble, his dark eyes flashing withsuspicion.

Remus' eyebrows climbed nearly to hishairline. He hadn't expected to be accosted so bluntly, or on thatsubject. Still, he'd just been handed an opportunity to discussexactly what he wanted to with Severus, and he wasn't about to backaway from it.

"I know that after everything he's done tohurt me, I could easily hate him, but I don't," he answered, keepinghis voice soft and steady. "I know that you can't possibly understandhim, because you've never come close to allowing your impulses torule you as he once did... Although judging from his actions lastnight, apparently he still does."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. You're asking ifI'm conspiring with him," he replied without anger or bitterness."You're asking if I knew what he intended to do last night. You'reasking if I helped him get inside Hogwarts."

"And?"

Severus' gaze was implacable, but Remusmet and held it easily.

"I don't betray people I care about."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"On the contrary, it should answer a greatmany of your questions."

"You're talking in riddles!" Severus spataccusingly, and Remus shook his head.

"It only sounds that way because you'renot ready to hear the truth." With a small, wistful smile, he liftedthe goblet and held it out again. "Now then, if I could get a refill,I'll leave you in peace."

Severus snatched the goblet from his handand walked away, but not before Remus caught his angry mutter, "Notbloody likely."

Remus' smile widened marginally. Maybe hewas succeeding better than he realized... Well, if that was the case,he'd keep right on trying. Oh, yes, indeed he would, and Severuswould learn the futility of trying to run from a wolf when it had itsgoal in sight.

* * * * *

"Feeling vindicated now?" Remus askedpolitely as Severus served himself a helping of potatoes, keeping hisvoice low so that no one else at the head table could hearhim.

The full moon had waxed and waned for themonth, and Remus was feeling much better; the potion had worked aswell as Albus had said it would, and he had spent the nights of histransformation curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace in hisquarters.

It had been a new and differentexperience, transforming from man to wolf with his mind intact. He'dbeen able to observe the process as if from a distance, and eventhough the pain of it, which was quickly forgotten in the now ofwolf-thought, remained sharp and vivid to his human memory, it wasworth the price. He'd spent at least an hour or more investigatinghis room from an animal perspective, sniffing and snuffling anythingwithin reach, amazed at how different it all seemed when filteredthrough his heightened senses.

But the best thing of all was no longerexperiencing the overwhelming blood lust that drove him to hunt andto kill, which put anyone who strayed into his path in deadly peril.No one was in danger from him now, and he was more grateful to bothAlbus and Severus than he could possibly express.

When he "recovered from his illness" andreturned to his classes, he'd discovered that Severus had exactedwhat seemed to be a bit of vengeance for the boggart incident,assigning his third years to write an essay on werewolves. NotSeverus' most subtle moment, but quite unsettling for Remus. Afterfinding a haven after all these years, he didn't want to lose it, andhe had decided to have a word with Severus, taking his opportunity atdinner that evening.

Setting the serving dish back on thetable, Severus glared balefully at him. "What are you babblingabout?"

"The essay you assigned to my students,"he replied, focusing his attention on slicing his roast beef. "Theone about werewolves."

A sidelong glance at Severus revealed thathe looked neither apologetic nor chagrined at being called on hisbehavior. "You're a threat to this school, Lupin, and to every personin it."

"You have so little faith in your ownpotion?" Remus shot him a questioning look, but Severus waved thatidea away dismissively.

"While your lycanthropy does indeedconcern me, as long as you take the potion every month, it's not myprimary concern. It's your loyalty to Black I consider the mostimmediate danger. Your first loyalty was always to him then, and I'veno doubt it still is now."

"You're wrong, Severus," he repliedquietly. "On both counts."

"I think not."

A mixture of regret, frustration andlonging welled up in Remus' chest as he gazed at Severus' profile,wishing he could sweep away all the invisible barriers between them,so that Severus would listen and accept what he had to say. Severussat stiffly, staring down at his plate, his hands wrapped around thearms of his chair so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

"Severus..." Remus whispered, touching theback of Severus' hand lightly -- ever so lightly -- with hisfingertips, waiting for the moment when the hand would be snatchedaway, but it wasn't.

Perhaps Severus didn't want to drawattention to himself even though their hands were hidden by thetable, or perhaps the touch wasn't entirely unwelcome. Either way,the lack of resistance stoked Remus' resolve, and he covered Severus'hand with his own. A simple touch, but one he hadn't experienced inlonger than he could remember, and he relished feeling the warmth ofanother living being blending with his own, luxuriated in the feel ofskin on skin, no matter how slight. His affliction had kept himisolated in so many ways, and the language of touch -- taken forgranted by everyone around him -- had been almost nonexistent in hislife ever since he had lost his dearest friends.

"Severus, listen to me," he entreated."Believe me, please. Sirius hasn't been my first priority in any wayfor years, and you know exactly when he was replaced."

A slight flush bloomed in Severus' sallowcheeks and spread across his nose, but he remained silent, and Remusstroked the back of his hand gently with his thumb, watching him withgrowing hope.

And then Severus yanked his hand away,turning on Remus with a look of pure fury.

"I will not be played for afool again," he hissed, just loudly enough for Remus to hear beforeshoving his chair back, rising to his feet, and storming from thetable without looking back.

Slumping in his chair, Remus watched himgo, dejected and disappointed. For the rest of the meal, he pickeddulsitorily at his food, his appetite having fled along with Severus.The only good to have come from the conversation was a qualified"good" at best: his suspicions had been confirmed. Remus had guessedall along that Severus held him equally responsible as Sirius forwhat had occurred in the Shrieking Shack, and he hadn't been any morewilling to listen to any explanations then than he was now.

After dinner, he slipped out of the GreatHall quickly and quietly, feeling far too restless to return to hisquarters. Instead, he took advantage of his position and roamed thehalls; he half-expected Filch to turn up and order him back to hishouse, and he laughed at himself for such foolishness, but thewariness was ingrained. He'd spent far too many nights sneakingaround with James, Sirius, and Peter not to feel residualapprehension about getting caught even now, years later, when he wasperfectly within his rights to be out and about if he desired.

He let his feet lead him, wanderingaimlessly and reacquainting himself with old haunts; some of thefigures in the paintings lining the corridors remembered him andwaved or greeted him cheerfully. He smiled back, but didn't stop tochat; instead, he kept walking, a lone figure in faded black robes,his hands clasped behind his back, his head often bowed as he losthimself in thought.

"Professor Lupin..."

A throaty purr jostled Remus out of hisprivate reverie, and he glanced up to see a tall, painfully thinwoman drift out of the shadows. She was an unusual sight, even forHogwarts; she was dressed in what appeared to be layers of multi-huedgauze, and her long, frizzy hair was covered with a gaudy scarf.Innumerable beaded necklaces dangled around her neck, clinking gentlyas she moved, and her arms and fingers were also covered with tackybaubles. He blinked at her, wondering if she was real, or Severus'potion had unusual hallucinatory side-effects, but then the stiflingscent of patchouli threatened to engulf him, and he realized she wasquite real indeed.

"Ehm..." He searched his memory and cameup with only one name that could be hers. "Professor Trelawney, isit?"

"Quite right," she replied, moving closerand angling her body in way that made him think she was attemptingsome sort of odd contortionist move at first, and then he realizedshe was attempting to show off her cleavage, such as it was.

"Very nice to meet you at last," he saidpolitely.

"I hope we'll become great friends."

She smiled, gazing at him from beneath herlashes coyly, and Remus felt his face growing hot. How was he toextract himself from this situation? He didn't want to give her anyencouragement, but he didn't want to be rude, either.

"Perhaps you'd care to join me in myquarters?" she continued, moving even closer, and he began to edgeaway as much as he could without giving offense. "I'd be delighted topart the veil of mystery for you--"

Remus' eyes went wide and round.

"--and I'm especially talented withcrystal balls."

"I appreciate the offer, I truly do," hesaid, courtesy winning out over amusement. "But I'm afraid I mustdecline. I've got... homework to grade before my classes tomorrow."

Before she could make a response, he madea hasty retreat, making a note of where he was so that he wouldn'tinadvertently wander into her lair if he ever took another night-timestroll. By the time he got back to his own quarters, his equilibriumand good humor were restored, as much by the unusual encounter withProfessor Trelawney as his own natural recuperative abilities. He'dstruggled against adversity all his life, and the difficulties he washaving with Severus were just another set of obstacles for him toovercome.

Besides, he felt as if he'd made someprogress. Severus had allowed a touch, after all, and he thought itboded much better for his chances that Severus reacted with suchvehement anger. Apathy would have been a far more ill omen for him.

Once he was undressed and nestled beneathhis thick, down-filled comforter, he leaned back against his pillowand brought his fingers to his nose, wishing for his heightenedanimal senses now, when he might have caught Severus' scent lingeringon his skin. But his normal, human nose could detect nothing, and heclosed his eyes and pressed his fingertips to his mouth, rememberingthat moment in as much vivid detail as he could, and imagining hislips had caressed Severus' hand instead.

* * * * *

Shivering as the knife-edge wind whippedaround him, Remus wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself, butit did little good. In addition to his sparse wardrobe of Muggle-ishclothes, he only had two sets of robes, and one cloak, and none ofthem were heavy enough for winter. His only set of winter robes hadfallen to ruin long ago, and he hadn't been able to affordreplacements. The sweater he wore -- the only sweater he possessed --was worn thin and frayed, offering little shielding against the cold.He longed to be back in his quarters, bundled in his chair by thefire with a cup of hot tea, but tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and heknew he'd be indisposed, so he had to buy his presents and distributethem early. His first Hogwarts Christmas since graduating, and he'dhave to miss it, he thought wistfully.

There were two people for whom he wantedto buy presents this year: Albus, in thanks for having given him theteaching position, and Severus, in thanks for providing the potionevery month. This was the first year he'd had anyone to buy presentsfor in far too long, and he found himself getting caught up in theholiday spirit just as much as when he was young. The decorations inevery window caught his eye, luring him over to marvel at the lightsand fancy displays; the smell of evergreen from the garlands andwreaths bedecking every door filled the air, and he breathed itdeeply, the scent bringing back fond memories. He even splurged on acup of eggnog at the Three Broomsticks while taking a break from hisshopping, indulging himself with both the drink and an enjoyableconversation with Hagrid, who had a pile of bags and brightly wrappedboxes shoved out of the way beneath his table.

Albus had been easy to buy for; Remus hadfour pairs of thick, wool socks, each a different color, in the baghe carried under his cloak.

Severus, on the other hand... Well,Severus was impossible to shop for. It didn't help that the man'sattitude had been even more frosty of late. He ignored Remus entirelyunless he couldn't avoid it, and the times when he was forced toacknowledge Remus' existence, he was rude, bordering on hostile.

Remus had spent most of the afternoonsearching the shops in Hogsmeade, but nothing struck him as being anappropriate gift. He'd seen a number of things he would have gottenhad he held the position in Severus' life that he wanted, silk boxerstopping the list, but he doubted Severus would respond well to such agift, their relationship being what it was at present.

But now the sunlight was fading; peoplewere drifting home for dinner, and he was still empty-handed and at aloss for where to look next. With a quiet sigh of frustration, hestopped outside of Zonko's and leaned against the wall, looking upand down the street to see if there was any store he'd missed thatmight serve his purpose. Nothing stood out, however, and he was aboutto give up and return to Hogwarts when he felt an unexpected tug.

Glancing down, he saw a tiny black kitten,its left front paw tangled in the tattered hem of his cloak. Smiling,he knelt down and gently freed its claws; it promptly backed off andhissed at him.

"There's gratitude for you," he said,laughing at the ferocity on its wee fuzzy face. "Why did you accostme, if you didn't want my attention?"

It gave him a disdainful look, turned itsback, and began washing its leg, as if removing all trace of histouch.

"You remind me of someone I know," he toldit, and it ignored him, of course.

Despite its bravado, Remus could tell itwas a stray. It was thin, almost frail-looking, and its fur wasmatted and dirty as if it had been roaming the alleys and gutter. Hehated to leave it; it was so young, yet obviously on its own, buthe'd never had an animal of his own, not because he didn't want one,but because he didn't want to be responsible for another life whenhis circumstances were so precarious. What if there came a time whenhe couldn't afford to feed it? It had always seemed far wiser, ifalso far lonelier, not to take on the responsibility.

Suddenly, an idea struck him.

Severus. He'd take the kitten back toHogwarts, clean it up, and give it to Severus as a Christmas present.That way, it would have an excellent home with someone who could carefor it as it deserved.

Ignoring the kitten's squawk of protest,Remus scooped it up and sheltered it under his cloak; it squirmed andstruggled for most of the walk back to the castle, and had it notbeen as young as it was, he knew he would have had scratch marks onhis chest. As it was, its claws were too tiny to reach his skinthrough his clothes.

As little as it liked its unexpectedjourney, it liked the bath it got upon arrival even less, but in lessthan an hour, it was clean, dry, and settled in a pillow-lined basketRemus had conjured and decorated with a large red bow. Once it wasclean, he saw that it was pure black, without a single white hairanywhere. He also wrapped Albus' socks with a card inside; he wouldhave one of the house elves deliver them on Christmas morning, but hewanted to deliver the kitten in person straight-away.

"I hope you like your new home," heremarked as he carried it down to the dungeon, and it ignored him infavor of peering over the edge of the basket to see where it wasgoing.

Both Severus' office and classroom weredark, and Remus went to his quarters, hiding the basket behind hisback as best he could before knocking on the door. A moment later,the door swung open, and Severus stood there, gazing down at him insurprise.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" hedemanded.

"I come bearing a gift," Remus saidmildly, not at all put off by Severus' rude greeting; he was far toodistracted by the fact that Severus was out of his robes for once,with his jacket and waistcoat off, his starched white shirtunfastened down to the third button, and the sleeves rolled up. Hecouldn't remember seeing Severus like this, even when they werestudents.

"You what?"

"Gift." He shouldered his way past Severusinto the parlor, moving to the nearest table, where he placed thebasket. "For. You," he added, speaking slowly and carefully as if toa small child, because he knew nettled Severus, and he wanted todistract him from the idea of kicking Remus out long enough to givehim the present.

"What on earth for?" Severus closed thedoor and marched over to the table, wearing a formidable scowl, buthe hadn't shoved Remus out the door and slammed it in his face. That,at least, was a good start.

"It's Christmas, in case you hadn'tnoticed, and I'll be indisposed for the holidays, so I'm giving youyour present early," he explained, gesturing to the basket. WhenSeverus made no move to look at or touch it, he added, "It's not justa Christmas present. It's a thank-you gift as well. I know youwere..." he paused, searching for a tactful word. "Reluctant toaccept me as part of the faculty, and to help me regarding thepotion, but I appreciate your efforts. It's been..." He hesitatedagain. "There are no words to describe the difference the potionmakes, Severus, and I'm deeply grateful."

"I'm doing it for the students."

Remus' answering smile was both knowingand sad. "I'm under no illusions about that."

As if delivered on cue to interrupt theconversation, a muffled "meep!" from within the basket caughtSeverus' attention, and he peered inside, one eyebrow arching as hereached in and captured the kitten, holding it up for inspection. Thekitten submitted without protest, staring back at himunblinkingly.

"A cat?" His tone was laced withdisbelief, and a wave of doubt assailed Remus.

This was, he realized, potentially one ofthe most idiotic things he'd ever done. He didn't even know ifSeverus liked animals. That he didn't have one already may have beena hint that he didn't want one.

But before he could decide to take thekitten back, Severus drew it close to his chest, cradling it in hishand while he scratched behind its delicate ears, and Remus breatheda silent sigh of relief. Naturally, Severus wouldn't be the type tocuddle and coo over anything, even a kitten, but it seemed he didn'tdisdain his gift either.

"It doesn't like me much," Remus admittedsheepishly. "I think it senses... well, you know."

"Probably." Severus' tone and expressionwere bland. "Why a cat?"

"I found it in Hogsmeade while I wasshopping," he admitted. "I was having trouble figuring out what toget you, and I remembered you don't have an animal, so..." Heshrugged and spread his hands. "Merry Christmas."

For an extended moment, the room wassilent except for the increasing volume of the kitten's purring, andSeverus directed his gaze to the black ball of fuzz nestled in hispalm. Without looking up, he seemed to force his next words out, asif to speak them pained him.

"Thank you."

* * * * *

The afternoon was well along by the timeRemus awoke on Christmas Day and felt steady enough to crawl out ofbed and face the world. Despite being able to think as a man while hewas in wolf form, the transformation was both painful and draining,and he always needed time to recuperate afterward.

Yawning and stretching, he threw back hiscovers and swung his legs over the side of the bed -- and discoveredtwo packages on the floor nearby. One was a small, flat box wrappedin bright, shimmery green paper printed with glittery snowflakes andtopped with an over-sized white bow, presumably to match thesnowflakes. The other was larger, wrapped in a more sedate cranberryred paper with a matte finish, and there was no bow, only a goldribbon tied around it.

Kneeling on the floor, Remus ignored thechill seeping through his thin nightshirt from the stones and reachedfor the smaller package first; there was a card tucked into the bow,and he pulled it out, his fingers shaking a little as he read it.

"To Remus -- May your Christmas wishescome true -- Albus Dumbledore."

A present... for him...

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat,he ripped off the wrapping paper with all the haste and excitement ofa child, and pulled the lid off the box to reveal a long, knittedscarf in the Gryffindor colors. He took it out of the box and drapedit around his neck, raising one end and rubbing it against his cheek.It was soft and warm, and he wanted to get dressed and go for a walkon the grounds immediately, just to have an excuse to wear it.

But he still had another present to openfirst. Turning it over, he searched for a card, but there wasn't oneon the outside, and he shredded the paper of this present asmercilessly as he had the first, quickly removing the lid of the box-- and he rocked back on his heels, his jaw falling open with shockwhen he saw what lay within.

Winter robes. Pure wool.

"My God..." he breathed, lifting the robesout of the box as carefully as if he expected them to vanish at anymoment. "Who...?"

A card fluttered from the folds of therobes and landed on the floor next to his foot; he picked it up, butthere were only two words written on it in an unfamiliar hand: "ToRemus."

It wasn't a mistake, then. This really washispresent, but who had sent it? Robes were expensive, and heavy winterrobes like these were even moreso; he knew of no one who had reasonto give him a gift like this. His parents were dead, and even ifanyone else in his family knew where he was, he doubted they wouldcare. Other than Albus, he wasn't particularly close to any of theother faculty members, certainly not close enough to warrantthis.

Unless...

His eyes narrowed speculatively. Severus,perhaps?

No... No, that was wishful thinking.Severus had never been prone to sentimentality, and Remus doubted thespirit of Christmas had moved him to overcome his animosity enough tosend a present, even an anonymous one. Remus distinctly rememberedteasing him about resembling a Muggle literary character namedScrooge, and if anything, Severus was probably more Scrooge-ish nowthan he had been then.

Perhaps in gratitude for thekitten? a little voice of hope pipedup in the back of his mind, but he quickly silenced it. Severus wouldlikely view the kitten as recompense for the potion brewing, and hewouldn't consider himself indebted.

No, it was best to chalk up the identityof his benefactor as a mystery and not waste time thinking it mightbe Severus. The chances of that were far too slim, and experience hadmade him a pragmatist, not given to fooling himself with false hope.He would wear the robes and enjoy them, and if anyone stepped forwardto claim credit, he would thank them profusely. Between the robes andthe scarf, he could look forward to a far more comfortable winterthan he'd anticipated.

That in itself made for a very merryChristmas indeed.

* * * * *

"Have you seen that fuzzball followingSnape around lately?"

The sound of Ron's voice carried down thehall, and Remus paused outside the open door of his classroom andlistened, intrigued. He hadn't seen the kitten since Christmas, norhad Severus made mention of it, and he had wondered how it was faringin its new home.

"Oh, you mean Her Befurred Majesty?" Harry replied. "I don't know which is worse: Mrs. Norris, Crookshanks, orthat stuck-up little hairball."

"Her name is Morgause, and I think she's sweet,"Hermione interjected, and someone blew a raspberry at her.

"You would," Ron said scornfully. "Funny thing, though. I didn't take Snape for an animallover. I wonder where he got it, and why."

"Maybe it was a Christmas present,"Neville suggested hesitantly.

"No way! Who'd give Snape a Christmaspresent, especially a kitten?" someone else piped up. "Imagine givinga poor, innocent animal to someone like him!"

"I dunno..." Harry mused. "She seems tolike him an awful lot, and she looks fine to me. He must treat herwell enough."

Ron made a disparaging noise. "He treatsher better than he treats us! I was in his office yesterday fordetention, and he had me write an essay on the spot, only when Itried to sit down, he made me get up and move. Said I was sitting inherchair."

Edging back down the hall, Remus muffledhis laughter behind one hand. It certainly hadn't taken long forSeverus to get wound around Morgause's delicate black paw! Drawinghimself up, he straightened his robes and tried to quell the grinwhich would reveal to the entire class that he'd overheard theconversation.

But the news he heard the next day was notnearly as good. Far from it. The first thing he learned when hearrived at the head table for breakfast the next morning was that Ronhad been attacked during the night -- by Sirius Black.

Severus shot him suspicious glares allthroughout the meal, but Remus was too stunned to notice. He hadthought Sirius could fall no further than he already had: multipledeaths on his hands, betraying his friends, turning to Voldemort. Butnow he could add attempting to kill an innocent boy to thelengthening list of his crimes, and Remus was sickened by the verythought.

When he returned to his quarters thatevening, he dragged his small piece of luggage out of the bottom ofthe wardrobe and opened it, rummaging around until he found what hewas looking for: an old photograph.

One corner was torn, and it was creased,and more than a little battered, but the four figures were still inplace. James smiled brightly and waved at him. Peter nodded solemnly,and the young Remus gave his older counterpart a sympathetic smile.

And young Sirius grinned and winked,slinging his arm around the Remus by his side, who gazed at him withblatant adoration.

"You love him, don't you?"

Severus handed back the photograph,which Remus and his friends had just had taken the previous week, andRemus stared down at it, flustered by the question.

"A little, I guess," he admitted,feeling his face grow hot. "I don't know. I thought it was love once,but now..." He shrugged. "I'm not so sure it wasn't just a crush. Icare a lot about him, but I'm not going to waste my life on anunrequited love."

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Ah,famous last words," he murmured. Looking at the photograph, he couldscarcely believe what had become of each of them. When that picturehad been taken, they'd been carefree, their greatest concern beingwhether Filch would catch them when they tried to sneak out aftercurfew.

Now...

Now two of them were dead, slain by thethird, who had fooled them all, and the two survivors were back atHogwarts where they began.

When had the turning point come? When hadit all gone wrong?

For a long time, he had felt responsible;his friends had never approved of him spending time with Severus. Ofall of them, James had been the only one who tried to understand andaccept the odd relationship to any degree. Sirius had made no secretthat he disliked and distrusted the Slytherin, and he badgered Remusconstantly to stay away from him. But while Peter may have been happyto be led around by the nose, Remus wasn't about to let anyone, evenhis dearest companions, dictate what he could and couldn't do,especially when it came to a relationship that had grown so importantto him.

But with distance and perspective, he hadcome to understand that Sirius had made his own choices, and wouldhave turned to Voldemort's side, no matter if Remus had begunsnubbing Severus as Sirius had wanted, or not. He wasn't responsiblefor Sirius' choices, only his own.

And as far as his own choices wereconcerned, his only regret was not telling Severus the truth when hehad the chance...

The sun shone with gentle warmth on thegrounds of Hogwarts, light breeze creating ripples on the lake. Everyso often, Remus caught sight of a suckered tentacle, as if even thegiant squid wanted to partake of the day's beauty. He leaned back onhis elbows and stretched his legs out in front of him, luxuriating inthe glory of such a perfect day.

His books were piled nearby, unopened,despite all the homework he should have been doing. Beside him,Severus sat cross-legged, his posture straight, an open case cradledin his lap. Remus watched as Severus' long fingers sorted through thecollection of jars and vials scattered in the grass around him,caressing each one as he placed it snugly in its own littlecompartment. Severus was absorbed in his labeling-and-storingprocess; he had spent the last few weeks compiling his own personal,portable collection of ingredients and storable potions. It wasn'tsomething he'd been assigned to do, merely something he'd wanted todo, for his own convenience, and Remus had helped, pouring thingsinto the containers once Severus had measured them.

The sunlight glinted off of Severus'glass bottles, and the blue-black highlights in his hair; his browwas furrowed with concentration, and somehow he looked both deadlyserious and utterly content at the same time. Remus thought aboutSirius, mentally comparing them, although there was no comparison,really. Sirius was handsome, intelligent, and athletic; he exuded anatural charm that lured people to bask in the glow of his presence,shedding warmth on them that sometimes felt as bright as the sun.

Then there was Severus. Tall, gawky,hook-nosed and sallow-skinned Severus. Shadow of the Star. Siriuscalled to people like a siren, and Severus pushed them away, avoidingcontact, never revealing anything except his impatience and disdain-- except to Remus. Only Remus was allowed to see him as he was now:unguarded and at peace, doing what he loved best.

Why? he wondered. Why did Severus seemto trust him more than anyone else? They should have hated eachother. Why didn't they? Why was he drawn to someone so prickly andremote?

Then Severus glanced up, seeming tofeel the weight of his gaze. He looked a question at Remus, his darkeyes holding only curiosity, his features relaxed and open. Theremight have even been something close to a smile playing at thecorners of his mouth as he watched Remus watching him.

And in that moment, all of Remus'questions were answered.

* * * * *

"I solemnly swear that I am up to nogood."

A map of Hogwarts bloomed onto theformerly blank piece of parchment, and Remus picked it up andexamined it. Although all four of them had worked on the maptogether, it had been James' idea to create it in the first place;while Remus considered it oddly appropriate that Harry should havegotten it, he was disappointed the boy had used it in a time of suchgreat danger. It was bad enough that Severus had caught Harrysneaking around, but if Sirius had caught him--!

Remus shuddered, not wanting to evenconsider that possibility. It had taken fast talking and fast acting-- getting himself and Harry out of Severus' office before thePotions Master could formulate more questions -- to avert trouble,but doubtless Severus was even more suspicious of him and hismotives.

He let his gaze wander idly over the map,checking to see where Harry was in case he hadn't learned his lessonthe first time -- and then a name leapt out at him, and he gasped,sitting bolt-upright, staring in disbelief at what the map revealed.

It was true... It had to be... James hadenchanted the map so that it never lied...

Before he was aware he'd made theconscious decision to do so, he had pushed himself out of his chairand was sprinting out the door, headed for the Whomping Willow andpraying he get there quickly enough.

Within minutes, he had reached theShrieking Shack, led upstairs by Hermione's desperate scream, and heburst into the room, apprehensive about what he might find inside. Adarting glance around the room showed him things weren't as bad as hefeared, but the young ones were trying to defend themselves againstSirius, which, considering their inexperience, put them in as muchdanger from themselves and each other as it did from Sirius.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, gathering alltheir wands to himself, keeping his own wand trained on Sirius.

A thousand conflicting emotions rushedthrough him as he gazed down at the supine body of his former friend,Hermione's cat guarding him for some bizarre reason of its own. Angerwelled up as fresh as if the past twelve years had never happened,and part of him wanted to exact justice himself rather than wait forthe Dementors. But his calmer, rational side urged him to wait andfind out the truth first. Even after all these years, he found itdifficult to accept that they had all been so wrong about Sirius,especially in light of what he had seen on the map.

"Where is he, Sirius?" he demanded, tryingto keep his voice low and steady.

Mutely, Sirius lifted his hand and pointedat Ron. Remus kept his gaze fixed on Sirius, his mind whirling as hetried to sort out all the new information he had learned in such ashort time.

"But then... why hasn't he shown himselfbefore now?" he asked, talking to himself more than to Sirius, sinceit appeared Sirius wasn't going to provide any answers. "Unless..."He felt his eyes grow wide as the last pieces of a twelve year oldpuzzle fell into place. "Unless he was the one...unless you switched... without telling me..."

Still staring directly, silently at him,Sirius nodded, and Remus took an involuntary step backwards, a flashof hurt slicing through him. Sirius had given up the role of secretkeeper and hadn't told Remus, hadn't trusted him with that vitalinformation, because of Severus. Remus had the taint of Slytherin onhim, therefore he couldn't be trusted.

But as painful as it was to know hisformer friend had distrusted him so deeply, he wastoo overcome with joy to care at the moment. Sirius was innocent.

He was innocent!

He hadn't killed Peter, and it followedthat he hadn't betrayed James and Lily either. Remus was overjoyed toknow the friendship he had cherished hadn't been merely an act playedout by a cunning manipulator.

Without another word, he strode across theroom, pulled Sirius to his feet, and caught him up in a warm, tightembrace, his throat too clogged with emotion to let him express withwords how happy he was to have his friend returned to him at last. Hefelt Sirius wrap his arms around him, felt how gaunt Sirius hadbecome, and he held on tighter -- until Hermione's outraged cryforced them to part.

"I didn't tell anyone! I've been coveringup for you!"

An icy claw skittered down Remus' spine ather words, which confirmed that Severus' attempt to disclose hissecret had worked with at least one student.

"I trusted you!" Harry's face was red, andhe looked to be teetering on the edge of losing control. "And all thetime, you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," he replied, hoping if heremained calm, that would help diffuse the rising hysteria of thesituation. "I haven't been Sirius' friend, but I am now. Let meexplain..."

"NO!" Hermione shrieked. "Harry, don'ttrust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants youdead too -- he's a werewolf!"

The entire room plunged into silence.Remus stood still, his breath caught in his throat as he waited forthe inevitable fallout. His secret was out now. There was nothing hecould do about that. He just hoped he could make them understand thetruth, that they would listen to him in spite of what he was.

"Not at all up to your usual standard,Hermione," he said quietly. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. Ihave not been helping Sirius get into the castle, and I certainlydon't want Harry dead..." He shivered, hating to say the next wordsaloud. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron scrabbled to get up -- to getaway-- and when Remus moved as if to help him, the boy recoiled. The sameboy who had been so friendly and had seemed to enjoy his class somuch flinched away from him.

"Get away from me, werewolf!" he gasped,and Remus gazed down at him with a sadness not for himself but forRon.

Dehumanized already. How regretfullytypical. He'd expected more, expected better from these young ones,but apparently they were no different from the others who had turnedon him with hatred, disgust, and suspicion when they learned abouthis condition. It was an unfortunate aspect of human nature thatRemus was all too familiar with; he was disappointed by the reaction,but not surprised.

It took returning Harry, Ron andHermione's wands and putting away his own to convince them to listen,and even then, Harry kept interrupting with suspicious questions. Theboy seemed most surprised to learn that Remus had helped write theMarauder's Map, but that was a mere trifle compared to what was tocome.

"I saw Sirius collide with you," heexplained. "I watched as he pulled two of you into the WhompingWillow."

"One of us!" Ron exclaimed angrily, stillseeming resistant to accepting anything Remus said.

"No, Ron," he corrected gently. "Two ofyou. Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he asked, carefulto keep his voice calm and even. The young ones were still upset andnot entirely convinced, and he had no wish to alarm them.

"What's Scabbers got to do with it?" Rondemanded.

"Everything."

Ron retrieved the wriggling, squealing ratfrom his robes, clutching it against his chest as if to protect it asRemus moved closer, studying the terrified rodent.

"That's not a rat." Sirius spoke for thefirst time since Remus had entered the room, his voice a hoarsecroak, nothing at all like the rich, soothing baritone Remusremembered.

"He's a wizard," Remus added, supportingSirius' claim.

"An Animagus by the name of PeterPettigrew," Sirius concluded.

"You're both mental."

If the situation hadn't been so dire, hewould have laughed at Ron's unthinking bluntness.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead," Harry said,looking pole-axed. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Sirius,who growled at the rat, his expression feral.

"I meant to, but little Peter got the bestof me. Not this time, though!"

Without warning, he lunged at Scabbers,and Remus threw himself at Sirius; even fueled by anger, Sirius'strength was weakened by his physical condition, and Remus draggedSirius backwards, restraining him from getting near Ron again, whowas getting enough damage from the frantic rat clawing his face andneck in an effort to escape.

"No!" Remus exclaimed, wrestling withSirius, who still struggled to free himself. "Wait, you can't do itjust like that -- they need to understand -- we've got to explain--"

"We can explain afterwards!" Siriussnarled, trying to throw Remus off, but he refused to loosen hishold.

"They've got a right to know everything,"he panted. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even Idon't understand, and Harry -- you owe Harry the truth, Sirius."

The magic words.

Remus knew a reminder of Harry -- Sirius'last link to James -- would calm him, if nothing else would, and sureenough, Sirius stopped struggling.

"All right, then," Sirius agreed wearily."Tell them whatever you like, but make it quick. I want to commit themurder I was imprisoned for."

But Remus' explanation met with moreresistance. To Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Peter had been killed twelveyears ago by Sirius. Period. It wasn't until Remus informed them thatthere had been three unregistered Animagi at Hogwarts that theyseemed to give any credibility to his story at all.

Just then, he was interrupted by thebedroom door opening with a loud creak, and they all turned to stareat it, but no one appeared. Remus strode over and peered out on thelanding, but he saw nothing. Puzzled, he returned to the bedroom.

"This place is haunted!" Ron exclaimed,but Remus shook his head, still looking at the door in bewilderment.

"It's not," he assured them. "TheShrieking Shack was never haunted..." He paused, steeling himself foranother painful admission. His condition was never something he caredto discuss, even with his friends. "The screams and howls thevillagers used to hear were made by me."

He stood, silent and still for a moment,with all eyes upon him, but he was lost in his own thoughts, awash inmemory. Raking both hands through his hair, he glanced around at hiswaiting audience, bringing himself back to the present.

"That's where all of this starts -- withmy becoming a werewolf."

Scrabbling in the underbrush, a child'scuriosity.

"None of this could have happened if Ihadn't been bitten..."

"Is someone there? Are you all right?Should I get help?"

"And if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

A fierce snarl, a sudden rush of air,musky animal scent surrounding him, fangs ripping hisflesh.

"I was a very small boy when I receivedthe bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days, there wasno cure," he said matter-of-factly.

The time in his life when he felt sorryfor himself was long gone; he had learned many years ago that whetherhe was happy or despairing depended on him, not on his affliction. Itwas his choice either to let the circumstances of his life make himbitter, or to accept what he couldn't change and deal with whateverobstacles he faced with as much good grace as possible.

"The potion that Professor Snape has beenmaking for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see."

He continued to weave his tale, aware thatthe room was quiet except for Peter's terrified squeaking and his ownsoft voice. Whether they believed him or not, Harry, Hermione and Ronwere at least listening.

"All this year, I have been battling withmyself," he said, his face and voice growing hard, "wondering whetherI should tell Dumbledore that Sirius is an Animagus. But I didn't doit. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admittingthat I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'dled others along with me..."

It would have meant admitting irrevocablythat he'd been wrong about Sirius, and that their friendship had beena charade. It would have meant giving Severus more reason to distrusthim when he was trying so hard to rebuild a connection between them.

"And Dumbledore's trust has meanteverything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me ajob when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paidwork because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius wasgetting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort,that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so, in a way,Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" Sirius abruptly turned his fullattention on Remus, scowling. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," he said, feeling asif yet another match had been struck and tossed dangerously near thepowderkeg. Sirius would be less than pleased to learn that Remus hadbeen in such close proximity to Severus again, never mind thatSeverus scorned him utterly. "He's teaching here as well."

He glanced over at the three young people,who looked confused. "Professor Snape was at school with us," heexplained. "He fought very hard against my appointment to the DefenseAgainst the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all yearthat I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons... You see, Siriushere..."

Remus looked at Sirius long and hard,trying to explain what had happened in a way that wouldn'tincriminate Sirius further in their eyes. But at the same time, hedid hold Sirius responsible for being thoughtless and vindictive. "Heplayed a... trick on him..."

"You selfish, self-centered bastard!Did you *once* stop to think about the consequences if he'd walkedinto that room? I could have *killed* him, Sirius! At best, he wouldhave survived, only to become the same kind of monster I am, and atworst, his blood would now be on my hands. I'd have to live the restof my life, knowing I'd killed someone I care about, and honestly, Idon't know if that's something I *could* live with. And all because*you* decided we needed to be punished. Is that what you wanted? Didyou really think either of us deserved that fate?"

"It served him right," Sirius sneered, andRemus turned away, his mouth thinning into a line of disapproval;even after so many years, Sirius was implacable, so certain of hisutter rightness that he couldn't admit any hint of culpability on hispart.

"Severus was very interested in where Iwent every month."

"Is something wrong? You're not ill,are you? You'd tell me if you were, wouldn't you? I don't understandwhy you won't tell me the truth."

"We were in the same year, you know, andwe -- er --" He nearly choked on the lie he was about to tell, but itwas far better to keep things simple than try to explain thecomplexities of that particular situation along with everything else."-- didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James."More deflection. It had been Sirius whom Severus detested most evenbefore the Shrieking Shack incident. "Jealous, I think, of James'talent on the Quidditch Field." As if Severus ever came close toplacing Quidditch over potions.

"Anyway, Snape had seen me crossing thegrounds with Madame Pomfrey one evening as she lead me toward theWhomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be -- er --" Heswallowed hard, forcing himself not to reveal his own residual anger."--amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on thetree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me.Well, of course, Snape tried it -- if he'd gotten as far as thishouse, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf --"

Repressing a shiver, he forced the wordsout; the thought of what might have happened that night had hauntedhim for months afterward, and he had been plagued with nightmares inwhich Severus had not been stopped in time.

"But your father, who'd heard what Siriushad done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to hislife..."

Oh, James, I owe you such a debt forthat, he thought. You saved both of us that night.

"Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end ofthe tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but fromthat time on, he knew what I was."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you,"Harry said, looking shell-shocked by the overwhelming amount of newshe had learned in such a short time. "Because he thought you were inon the joke?"

"That's right."

There was no mistaking the voice answeringHarry's question. Remus didn't have to turn to know Severus wasstanding behind him, but he did, feeling his heart plummet at thesight of Severus pointing a wand at him, knowing what little progresshe'd made over the course of the year was made all for naught by thisone brief moment.

He lifted mournful brown eyes to meetfurious black, silently entreating Severus to look beyond what hadhappened in this very place so many years ago, to remember thebeautiful truth of what had occurred between them before that fatefulnight...

Remus dropped his quill, closed theheavy book and pushed it aside, scrubbing his face with both hands."My eyes are crossing..."

In the chair next to him, Severusglanced up from the book in which he was engrossed, something aboutderivatives of mint and how they could be used in bug repellentpotions. "Hhm? Have you finished the essay yet?"

"No, but I don't care. I'll finish ittomorrow after Charms."

"You shouldn't have waited until thelast minute," he said, almost primly, and Remus gave a tired chuckle.

"Yes, Mother. Next time I'll dobetter." He slid his parchment over to his study partner. "Check itfor me?"

"Of course."

The library was deserted, everyone elsehaving packed up their books, quills and parchment long ago andreturned to their houses; torches flickered dimly, casting shadowsall around their table. As Severus read the essay, Remus studied hisprofile, memorizing the details of the hawkish nose, the stubbornchin...

Maybe it was the lateness of the hourand his own fatigue, or maybe it was the golden glow of thetorchlight giving the small study nook an intimate aura, or maybe itwas just the pull of the moon combined with his own wayward teenagehormones. Whatever the reason, he found himself reaching out andbrushing back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Severus'cheek, tucking it behind his ear with gentle fingers. Severus' headshot up, and he stared at Remus, obviously stunned.

But not disgusted.

Oh, no, there was no trace of revulsionin Severus' face or eyes. Only shock, and that was quickly fading,replaced by... curiosity? Perhaps even a hint of desire?

Feeling bolder, Remus skimmed hisfingertips along Severus' jawline, meeting his gaze and holding it;Severus opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, butnothing came out, and Remus saw no reason to waste an opportunity.

Leaning forward, he framed Severus'face between his hands and sealed his mouth over the other youngman's, claiming it completely. Severus froze... and then Remusdiscovered the lips that were so adept at delivering sarcasm andinsults were adept at other modes of expression as well. He feltSeverus' lips soften, felt them part at his gentle coaxing, felt themwarm and silken and yielding.

Long, thin fingers crept along hisscalp, anchoring him in place; Remus may have initiated the kiss, butit was clear Severus had no intention of releasing him any time soon.Fueled by hunger, he slid his tongue past Severus' lips and foundanother waiting, eager to meet and mate with his. A noise that waspart groan, part growl rose in his throat as their tongues danced andexplored, and he groped blindly for the fastenings of Severus' robes.

Unable to find them by touch alone --his shaking fingers were all but useless -- he pulled back, butSeverus followed him, lips clinging to his own, reluctant to part,and he gave in to the silent plea, drawing Severus' tongue back intohis mouth and sucking it gently.

And then he felt his robes being pushedup, felt a hand on his thigh, felt the warmth of it even through thefabric of his jeans.

"Sev... Oh, Sev, yes..." he whispered,shivering at the nip at his earlobe, at the graze of teeth along hisneck.

He opened his eyes just as Severuslifted his head; their gazes locked and held, and Remus saw the heathe felt mirrored in the obsidian depths of Severus' eyes. No doubtthis was mutual, whatever "this" was. Remus felt as if he wasteetering on the brink of something vast and life-changing, but hedidn't care. All he knew was that he wanted Severus, wanted him*now*, and he would willingly surrender himself to the Slytherin,even if it meant making love for the first time on the cold stonefloor of the Hogwarts library.

Another kiss, this one hot anddemanding. He wasn't certain who initiated it, but that didn'tmatter, not when it was so good. Greedy hands clutched him, pulledhim closer, and then, they were both rising to their feet, bodiesstraining for contact. He fastened one arm around Severus' waist,holding that lithe body tightly against his own, and Severus clampedboth hands on his hips, long fingers curling into his robes. Twinmoans filled the small nook as their kiss deepened, and they exploredeach other's mouths thoroughly, mapping out the new territory withlips and teeth and tongues. But it wasn't enough for Remus; he wantedto taste more, to feel more...

Footsteps. Echoing in the emptylibrary, growing closer.

Remus pulled away reluctantly, fallingback in his chair, his breathing labored as he fought to tamp downthe desire surging in his blood. A sidelong glance at Severusrevealed him to be flushed and panting, looking thoroughlydisheveled. If he hadn't been so flustered himself, Remus might havelaughed at seeing the dignified Slytherin in such astate.

Moments later, Sirius poked his headaround the corner and all but dragged Remus back to the Gryffindordormitory.

One snog.

One far-too-brief snog in nearly twodecades, and they'd never even gotten a chance to talk about it.Remus had wanted to ask him if it was a fluke, if he'd merely givenin to loneliness and hormones, or if it had meant something. But thenext day, Sirius kept unusually close, and the next night was thefirst night of the full moon.

It was also the night Severus learned thetruth behind the stories about the Shrieking Shack.

* * * * *

"I'm sorry."

The words felt woefully inadequate even ashe said them, but Remus knew they were about fifteen years overdue.

He sat in the chair across from AlbusDumbledore's desk, the same one he'd sat in months ago when he hadaccepted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, only this time,the occasion was much less happy. He had just tendered hisresignation, but that had been the easy part. The hardest still laybefore him.

"I won't try to shift the responsibilityonto anyone else," he said, staring down at his hands, which weretwisting in his lap. "I don't remember whose idea it was for Sirius,James and Peter to become Animagi, but it doesn't matter. I didn'tsay no, and I should have. I was too happy that my friends caredenough about me to try it in the first place. I'd never had friendslike that before, who were willing..." He trailed off and shook hishead. "That's no excuse, I know. I lied by omission. I should havetold you Sirius is an Animagus. If he really had been trying to killHarry..." He broke off again, shuddering. "It would have been on myhands."

There was silence from the other side ofthe desk, and then Dumbledore spoke.

"Why?"

Remus look up at him, meeting his eyes,shamed to see compassion blended with the confusion in Albus' gaze.He didn't deserve it.

"Because this is the first job I've had inyears," he replied. "I was desperate to hold onto it. I've beenliving hand-to-mouth for so long. I've even lived among the homelessin the Muggle world more often than I care to admit. To have thisjob... to have food on a regular basis, to have a roof over myhead... and in the one place where I've ever known any happiness... Ididn't want to lose it."

He shook his head again, staring at histwisting fingers once more. "It's no excuse, and I know that. Ijust... I wanted a respite from poverty, and I wanted a place tobelong, even if only for a little while. I was selfish."

There was a scrape of wood on stone asDumbledore pushed back his chair and walked around his desk to standbeside Remus and rest a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You've been alone too long, my friend,and I'm more sorry than I can say for that. You've had to be strongfor a very long time with no one to turn to for help or support,"Albus said, his tone laden with kindness. "I'm not pleased with yourdecision to keep this information from me, but I understand that youacted out of pain and desperation, not malice, and I forgive you."

"Thank you." It was a faint whisper, butit was all Remus could muster at the moment.

"Of course, there's also Severus toconsider in all of this, hhm?" Albus stood up straight. "Given howhard you've tried to convince him to trust you again, I imaginetelling him you've been hiding a great secret would not have helpedthe situation."

"No," he admitted reluctantly. "That waspart of it as well."

"I thought as much." The sparkle returnedto Albus' eyes. "Strange what foolish things love will make peopledo, isn't it?"

Remus looked away and said nothing, hislips pressed into a thin, harsh line. He should have told Albus thetruth right from the beginning. It would have changed everything forHarry and the others, and changed nothing between himself andSnape.

"I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps thedementors will have a kiss for him too."

The words still bit into Remus' soul. Allhope had died in that moment, and a part of him that had bloomed evenamid all the darkness of the years since graduation was now shriveledand crumbling to dust.

"Wasted effort," he said at last, forcingthe words out through a twisted attempt at a self-mocking smile.

"I told you here in this very office thatit would take patience and time," Albus reminded him gently."Especially now..." He trailed off, as if lost in thought for amoment. "Did you ever happen to ask our Severus what he did betweengraduating and returning to teach here?"

"No."

"You should. It may proveinsightful."

"Provided we ever speak again," Remussaid, not quite bitterly, but close.

"Yes... The events of the past yearhaven't helped your cause any, have they. He suspected you ofconspiring with Sirius all year."

"I know." He rose to his feet, not wantingto discuss the situation or Snape any further. It was over. Donewith. Now it was time for him to move on. Again. "I should go packnow." He paused, then lifted his gaze to meet Albus'. "I really amsorry."

"So am I."

To Remus' surprise, the older man reachedout and enfolded him in a tight embrace, and Remus returned itgratefully, trying not to cling no matter how much he wanted to. Whenpeople knew what he was, they tended to avoid touching or beingtouched by him, as if the slightest contact would transfer hisaffliction to them. This was the first embrace anyone had given himsince his parents' deaths, and he felt his throat clogging up withemotion despite his best efforts to control himself.

"I'll have a carriage brought round frontwhenever you're ready," Dumbledore said as he released Remus.

Remus nodded his thanks and fled Albus'office before he lost his composure, intending to return to hisquarters to begin packing, then clean out his office last. Butsomewhere along the way, he made a different turn and headed for thedungeon instead. He had spent the entire year using a slow, gentleapproach with Snape, and it had gotten him nothing but more suspicionand scorn heaped on his head. He had nothing to lose now, and he wasgoing to have his say before he left Hogwarts for good.

Bursting into Snape's office unannounced,he strode over to the desk and leaned on his fists, looming overSnape, who glanced up at him from the book he was reading slowly, hisexpression dismissive.

"I want a word," Remus growled, and Snapeleaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, his eyes hooded andguarded, but he said nothing.

"You've won," he ground out throughclenched teeth. "I've just resigned. I'll be packed and gone withinthe hour -- just as you wanted. But I'm not leaving here until I'vesaid my piece about what happened in the Shrieking Shack when we werestudents."

"I hardly think there is anything thatneeds to be said on that subject." Snape's tone was icy, but Remusrefused to be put off by it.

"Maybe not for you, but there is for me,and by God, you will listen to me this time." He felt as if pressure wasbuilding in his chest, demanding release, and for once in his life,he let it go. "Damn you! Damn you, and damn Sirius! I've never beenanything to either of you except a convenient tool you've usedagainst one another!" he cried passionately, pushing himself awayfrom Snape's desk and beginning to pace back and forth.

"Both of you have done nothing all theseyears but focus on your own anger over what happened, never oncerealizing how it was hurting yourselves -- and me. You never oncestopped to think about it, except to wallow in self-righteousness! Didyou never wonder why Sirius wanted you to go to the Shrieking Shack thatnight?"

"I know why!" Snape snarled, leaping to his feet and glaring at Remus over the desk. "You were both conspiring--!"

"NO!" Remus shouted, his eyes squeezed shut, his fists shaking with the strength of his long-dormant anger."I had nothing to do with it. Sirius saw us in the library the nightbefore."

Snape froze, his dark eyes wideningmarginally. "He saw...?"

"The kiss, Severus. He saw the kiss,"Remus confirmed, his voice and expression grim.

"You go on." Sirius waved casually toJames and Peter. "We'll catch up."

James darted a quizzical look betweenSirius and Remus. "All right, but hurry along. It's the exam reviewtoday in Transfig."

"Yeah, all right. There's justsomething I want to talk to Remus about. Alone."

Peter obeyed immediately, hurrying outthe door of their shared bedroom; James gave Sirius another long,searching look, then shrugged and followed Peter, closing the doorbehind himself.

The moment they were alone, Siriusgrabbed Remus' shoulders and shoved him against the nearest wall,pinning him there.

"What the bloody hell do you thinkyou're doing?" Remus demanded, pushing against Sirius' chest, but hewouldn't budge.

"What were you doing in the librarylast night?" Sirius skewered Remus with his gaze, refusing to let himlook away.

"Studying." It was true... for the mostpart.

"Bollocks. I saw what that bastard did.Did he hurt you? Tell me the truth, damn it!"

"Wha-?" Remus gaped at him. "No, hedidn't hurt me! Why would you ever think that?"

"I saw him!" Sirius snarled. "I saw himkiss you! I saw him force himself on you!"

"*Force* himself--? No, Sirius, you'vegot it all wrong. Severus wouldn't do something like that. *I* kissed*him*."

"You..." Sirius' eyes went round withshock. "How *could* you? My God, Remus, if you're that desperate forsex, then why didn't you say something? I know how you feel about me.I'd have helped you out."

Remus went still, feeling a ball of iceforming in the pit of his stomach. "And you would have done what,exactly?" he asked scathingly. "Given me a pity-fuck?"

"If it kept you away from thatSlytherin piece of shit, I'd have fucked you, yes, but it wouldn'thave been for pity." He smoothed his hand down the side of Remus'face, his expression softening. "I care about you, you know that.We're friends. I'd never pity you."

His voice took on that soft, seductiontone that Remus knew all too well, having heard it used on countlessyoung women over the past couple of years, and he brushed his lipsagainst Remus', not quite kissing him, but suggesting it.

"You want this..." he murmured,aligning his body against Remus' in a way that, had this momentoccurred months prior, would have left Remus boneless and melting."Tell me you want this..."

"I do..." Remus put his hands onSirius' shoulders and firmly pushed him away. "But not from you. Notanymore." He drew himself up, surrounding himself with a quietlydignified air. "You don't really want me, Sirius. Your tastes don'trun... in my direction. They never have. You're only doing thisbecause you're angry and possessive, and you're prejudiced againstSeverus."

"Prejudiced? You're calling *me*prejudiced? I can't believe you're defending that -- that arrogant,stuck-up git to me!"

"You don't know him as I do."

"I don't *have* to know him!" Siriusroared. "We've been at school together for six years. I know allabout him! He's a disgusting toad who knows far more about the DarkArts than he should. He'll turn, Remus. You mark my words. As soon ashe's away from Dumbledore's influence, he's going to turn, and he'llprobably try to take you with him!"

"Nonsense." Remus crossed his arms andglared at Sirius. "You're judging him unfairly. He's not evil.Arrogant, yes. Insufferable at times, yes, but he's brilliant,especially with potions, and I find it understandable if he's alittle proud."

Sirius gaped at him, lookingdumbfounded. "Remus... My God, do you realize what you're saying?You... you sound like you're in love with him."

Averting his eyes, Remus gave aninsouciant shrug. "I wouldn't go that far," he replied, hoping thelie would appease Sirius and convince him to back off before he didanything stupid and rash out some misguided notion of retaliation.

But no matter what lie he allowed tofall from his lips in order to protect Severus, his heart knew thetruth: wolves -- and by extension, werewolves -- mated for life, andhis instincts were screaming that he had found his intendedmate.

And it wasn't SiriusBlack.

"Sirius was accustomed to getting his ownway," Remus added, feeling the heat of anger ebbing at last. "Hedidn't want me, except as a friend, but he didn't want my completeattention diverted from him either. I believe he wanted me to be likePeter: a devoted follower."

Snape gave a derisive snort, bringing asmall, wry smile to Remus' lips; that snort told him Snape understoodhim well enough to know he'd never fall into such a role, not foranyone.

"He didn't approve of my relationship withyou."

"We spent nearly three years workingout this Animagus magic, just for you, and this is how you repay us?This is your idea of loyalty? Chasing after that slimyweasel?"

"I also believe he expected a measure ofgratitude from me, in recompense for his bestowal of friendship." Heshrugged negligently. "There were many factors involved. The bottomline is, you were Slytherin, and you were a threat because youdiverted my attention away from him. He saw us together, and hewanted to tear us apart. I'd say he succeeded beyond his wildestdreams."

He also failed, Remus mused silently. When he learned what Siriushad done, he had been furious; it had taken a great deal of talkingfrom both James and Peter to help Remus reach the point that he couldconsider forgiving Sirius for the betrayal, and it had been thebeginning of the rift that yawned ever wider between them untilPeter's treachery and Sirius' wrongful imprisonment. Alreadyheart-battered, they had found it easy to believe the worst of eachother.

"So congratulations to you both." Hissmile was mirthless. "You got what you wanted. I hope it makes youvery happy."

With that, he turned and walked out, never once looking back.

* * * * *

"I don't suppose I need to express how disappointed I am in you."

It was amazing, really, how easily AlbusDumbledore could make him feel like an errant six-year-old, Snapethought as he sat in a chair opposite the Headmaster's desk. Hewasn't squirming under the intense relentlessness of Dumbledore'sbright blue gaze, but at that moment, he could certainly understandwhy someone might want to.

"Why did you do it?"

Snape didn't need to ask to whatDumbledore was referring. There was only one thing that could haveresulted in his being summoned to this office, mere hours after Lupinresigned and departed.

"Remus Lupin was a threat to this school,"he replied, meeting Dumbledore's gaze steadily, without flinching.

"As long as he took the potion you brewedfor him each month, he was not a threat to the school or anyone init."

"He didn't take it last night," Snapeargued.

"There were extenuating circumstances involving the safety of one of our students, whom he was trying toprotect."

"He was in league with Sirius Black allyear." He knew he was reaching on that point, but if he was goingdown, then by God, he'd go fighting all the way.

"I am persuaded that Professor Lupin wasnotassisting Sirius Black in any way, and even if he were, Sirius wasnot the real threat here, as we all now know, thus it is a mootpoint."

For the first time, Snape looked away. Hehad no more arguments. At least, no arguments he intended toarticulate. There were numerous personal reasons for his actions,reasons he didn't care to admit aloud or to examine tooclosely.

Dumbledore folded his hands and restedthem on top of his desk, leaning forward slightly.

"When I hired Professor Lupin, I made it clear that I wanted the rest of the faculty to treat his condition asconfidential information. You deliberately ignored my instructions. Idon't pretend to be entirely pleased with some of your teachingmethods, Professor Snape, but your classroom is your domain, and Iwill not interfere."

His eyes turned flinty.

"However, when I give my facultyinstructions, I expect to be obeyed. What you have done has causedthe school to lose an excellent Defence Against the Dark Artsinstructor, and it showed blatant disregard for my instructions.Moreover, you have failed to provide any valid reasons why thisviolation was necessary."

He paused, staring at Snape over his spectacles. "You are a Potions Master, Professor Snape, you are thePotions instructor here at Hogwarts, and you are an adult. By virtueof your age, experience and position, you are expected to provide abetter example for your students than this tawdry display of pettyspite. It does not become you, and your actions do not become thisschool. This is an official reprimand, and it will go on yourrecord."

Snape locked gazes with him, mouth set ina hard line. He'd expected a dressing-down, but not the officialreprimand. Damn Lupin for being able to cause problems without evenbeing here!

"Is that all, Headmaster?" he askedicily.

"One thing more." Dumbledore's expressionsoftened considerably. "The difficult times have returned, Severus.We are headed towards dark days, and there will be little enough tobe happy about until it's all over, one way or another. Remus isn'tperfect. He's made mistakes, just as you and I have done, butbetrayal is not one of them. Enough time has been wasted, don't youthink?"

"I do indeed, especially when I have muchwork awaiting me," he replied. He knew what Dumbledore meant, but hewasn't about to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. "Youmay consider me appropriately chastised, Headmaster. If you willexcuse me."

He rose to his feet, awaiting Dumbledore'sdismissal, which he gave with a weary sigh and wave of his hand. Onceout of the office, Snape stormed down the hallways, headed to thedungeon, stormclouds brewing in his eyes. No one got in his way oraccosted him; even Peeves took one look at his face and decidedpranking Snape would not be the wisest thing to do if he wanted tocontinue in his afterlife without ill effects.

Once he reached his quarters, Snapeslammed the door shut behind himself hard enough to splinter the woodon the edges and began pacing up and down the length of the parlor,stopping every so often to rake both hands through his hair andgrowl.

"Bastard!" he hissed, but he wasn't surewhom he meant: Lupin, Black, Dumbledore, or all three.

Finally, he threw himself into his chairby the fire and stared at the crackling flames, looking at them, butnot seeing them. His gaze was turned inward, and his mind wasreplaying snippets of conversations both new and old.

"Mrraow?"

He felt a little feline head buttingagainst his leg, and he glanced down to see Morgause watching him.Stretching her front paws out and kneading them into the hearth rug,she yawned, then began walking back and forth across his feet,arching her back and leaning against his legs as she always did toindicate she was prepared to receive his attentions.

He dangled his arm over the side of thechair and stroked her from head to tail, the repetitive motion andher loud purring acting to calm and soothe him somewhat. When shegrew tired of that, she leaped gracefully into his lap and curled up,still purring.

Snape rested one hand on her back, an oddlittle ache pulsing in his chest. As comforting as her presence was,Morgause was also a reminder of Lupin; she wouldn't be here, if notfor him. He remembered all too vividly Lupin's pleased smile when itbecame clear Snape wasn't going to refuse his gift. But he pushedthat thought aside, burying it along with the ludicrous notion thatHogwarts felt emptier somehow now that Lupin was gone.

* * * * *

The breeze off the ocean was cool andsmelled of salt, and Remus breathed in deeply, letting it fill andinvigorate his lungs. He veered off the path that led to the smallcottage he now called home and moving to stand near the edge of thecliff overlooking the rocky beach below. Waves crashed rhythmicallyon the shore, and gulls squawked overhead; it was a peaceful scene, apeaceful moment, and once more he was reminded how little heregretted turning his back on the Wizard world entirely.

Nearly three months, he mused, shoving his hands in the pockets of histrousers and returning to the path. His home was over two kilometersoutside of the little Muggle village where he now worked, but heenjoyed the walk. When fall and winter set in, he supposed he wouldbuy a bicycle; a car was out of the question, and really, he didn'tneed it for a mere two kilometers there and back again five days aweek.

He had come here in June, not long afterleaving Hogwarts, and now it was August. Classes would resume soon,and life would go on there as usual. Snape would go on as usual.

At first, Remus had drifted, unsure ofwhere he wanted to go or what he wanted to do. He had no ties toanyone or any place, and rather than being intimidating, the thoughtwas liberating. It had struck him that he could go anywhere hewanted; he had enough money from the year of teaching to sustain himlong enough to travel somewhere and settle in. The question was,where?

He soon learned, however, that he was evenmore of a pariah than he'd been before. News of his condition spreadlike wildfire from Hogwarts and its environs to the British Wizardcommunity at large, which meant he had only two options: leave thecountry, or leave the Wizard world.

It had been surprisingly easy to turn hisback on the life he'd known and live among Muggles. There was nothingfor him, now that Hogwarts was closed to him, and among the Muggles,he could get a job and keep it far more easily. Even if they'd knownof his condition, they likely wouldn't have believed it.

He had searched for a tiny, remote villagewhere he wouldn't be easily found, not that he expected anyone toactually look for him. But if Sirius or Dumbledore ever did try to find him, they'd have a bloody damn hard timeof it, and that was what he wanted. Their problems were no longer hisproblems.

Having found his ideal village on thecoast, he had gone to Gringott's, gotten his money converted, anddisappeared from the Wizard world. He'd had enough to pay rent for asmall cottage while he looked for a job, and he had found employmentquickly in the local bookseller's. He had explained to his newemployer that he needed three days off each month to visit his agedmother. The owner of the bookstore, a kindly middle-aged woman, hadbeen so touched by his filial devotion that she granted his requestwith tears in her eyes.

That had been settled to his satisfaction,and since his cottage was located near a patch of forest land wellaway from the village, he had felt certain he wouldn't endangeranyone. So far, he hadn't. There hadn't even been a whiff of gossipabout some strange fierce beast roaming the woods, much to hisrelief.

And thus, he lived as a Muggle. His robeshad been folded and stored away, along with his wand. There were afew little conveniences he missed, but the addition of television andfilms to his life made up for it. He'd spent every evening for aboutthree or four weeks doing nothing but watching telly or a rentedvideotape until the novelty wore off, and he started viewing inmoderation. Since the bookstore saw little business, he spent most ofhis days reading, fascinated by the kinds of fantastic tales Muggleswriters came up with, even if the pictures didn't move.

He'd also been drawn in by Muggle music.The sheer variety it offered was astounding, and he'd splurged a bit,buying different kinds of CDs, trying to figure out what kind ofmusic he liked best. It seemed to him as if the Muggles' form ofmagic manifested itself through their imaginations, and he was quiteintrigued by it.

He'd gotten to know many of the villagers,and it was delightful to be around people who didn't judge himbecause of his condition. They were warm and friendly, and he likedthem; life was quiet and peaceful there, and he felt as if he'dfinally found someplace where he could set down roots, somewhere hecould belong permanently.

The path curved, and once he got beyondthe bend in the road, he saw his cottage. His home. He smiled at thethought, more pleased than he could express at having a place to callhis own. Why hadn't he done this years ago? he wondered. Why hadn'tit occured to him that he would fare so much better away from theWizards who'd done nothing but persecute or discriminate against himall his life? As long as this beautiful village stood, he would neverhave to live in poverty again.

As he drew nearer, he noticed the frontdoor was ajar, and he stopped, frowning slightly. He didn't rememberleaving it open...

Slowing down his pace, he approached withcaution. There wasn't much of a crime problem around here, butoccasionally, a vagrant wandered through and broke into isolatedhomes, looking for cash or easily pawned items.

Nudging the door open, Remus glancedaround, but he saw no one, and he couldn't see anything missing. Histelevision and VCR were still there, as were his small stereo and allhis CDs.

He stepped into the room, still alert andwary, but he could hear nothing --

--and then the door slammed shut behindhim.

He whirled around, coming face-to-facewith a tall, hooded and cloaked figure, and his breath froze in hislungs as he realized he stood before a Death Eater.

"Greetings, my young friend." The DeathEater's voice made Remus think of open graves. "We have heard of yourunfortunate circumstances, and we wish to discuss a matter of greatimportance with you."

'We'?

Remus glanced around -- and found threemore hooded and cloaked Death Eaters surrounding him, hemming him intheir tight circle.

"We have an offer we should like to makeyou."

Remus glared at the Death Eater who hadspoken, feeling certain he knew what the offer would be.

"And if I refuse?" he demanded defiantly.

"Then you die."

The words were spoken in an off-handmanner, as if the speaker attached little consequence to Remus' -- oranyone else's -- death, and that chilled Remus far more than thethreat itself did.

"I know what you want," he said, staringunflinchingly at where the man's eyes should be beneath his hood.

"Perhaps you do. But we also know whatyouwant."

"You've no idea what I want," he scoffed."You know nothing about me."

"On the contrary." The Death Eater beganpacing a leisurely circle around him, trailing one hand along Remus'shoulders and causing a shudder of pure disgust to ripple down hisspine at the unwanted touch. "We know a great deal about you. We knowwhat you are. We know what you've been through."

The Death Eater stopped in front of himagain, leaning closer, as if he wanted to create the illusion offriendly intimacy between them.

"You've been scorned by Albus Dumbledoreand his misguided followers, have you not?" His voice turned silkenlypersuasive. "You've been discriminated against and reviled as amonster. Your true worth has never been appreciated, but that couldchange."

"How? Are you trying to tell meVoldemort's followers would accept a werewolf with open arms, whenthey have such hatred of Muggles and Mudbloods?" Remus shook hishead. "I'd be no better off with your lot than I was with Dumbledoreand his crowd."

"There's where you're wrong, my friend.Your lot would be considerably improved. Our lord recognizes andappreciates power, something that old fool Dumbledore could neverunderstand about you. He wanted to tame you, to make you safe. Wewant you to revel in the power you've been given, and use it tohasten our lord's inevitable victory. We want you for what you are."

"Their side won't accept me for who I am,and your side only wants to use me for what I am." Remus made a rudegesture, knowing it would seal his death warrent. If he was to die,then he would die fighting. "You can all fuck off."

The Death Eater reached for his wand, butbefore he could raise it, Remus leapt at him, snarling, and sent themboth tumbling to the floor; he grabbed the Death Eater's wrist andbegan pounding his hand against the hard wood in an effort to forcehim to release his wand, but the other Death Eaters yanked him off oftheir leader. It took all three of them to hold him as he struggledto free himself, and the leader rose shakily to his feet.

"You're a fool," he said, his voicedripping with icy fury. "You should have accepted our offer. Barringthat, you should have kept your hands to yourself. You've just madecertain that your death will be an exceptionally slow and painfulone."

He lifted his wand, and silvery tendrilsshot out of the end, wrapping around Remus until he was bound, handand foot. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he might havelaughed: who would have thought he'd find himself victim of the samespell twice in the space of three months?

"You two." He gestured to his fellow DeathEaters. "Destroy everything. You, assist me."

The third Death Eater stepped forwardwhile the other two disappeared into the back rooms of the cottage;Remus could hear the crashes, bangs, and other sounds of destructiondrifting from down the narrow hall. The leader raised his wand again.

"Morpheus!"

The blast from the Death Eater's wandstruck Remus in the stomach, and he doubled over from the impact, butthe Death Eater beside him yanked him upright again, just as theeffects kicked in.

The world faded away, his small but cozyparlor disappearing to be replaced by a forest glade. Remus glancedaround, disoriented, trying to get his bearings, but this wasn't aplace he recognized. And this was wrong somehow...

He frowned a little. This was very wrong.It was full night here, but it hadn't been at home. Had he somehowlost several hours? He glanced up and saw the full moon suspended inthe black velvet sky, and his blood ran cold.

Was what going on here? The full moon hadjust occurred two weeks prior... And how was he able to maintain hishuman form?

Panic surged through him, but he forcedhimself to breathe deeply and calm down. He would figure this out. Hewould--

In the distance, a wolf howled; anotheranswered, this one sounding closer, and he shiveredinvoluntarily.

Folding his arms around himself to wardoff the night's chill, he picked a direction at random and beganwalking. The forest would end eventually, and he would figure outwhere he was once he was out of it. Branches cracked and leavesrustled under his feet, announcing his presence to any predator thatcared to listen, and he wasn't surprised to hear more howling, onlyeven closer.

Determined, he kept walking, resisting theinstinctive urge to flinch at every strange sound from theunderbrush. He was a calm, logical man; he would get himself out ofthis mess with his wits and sense. There was absolutely nothing to beconcerned about, and certainly no need to give in to primal fear.

And then he heard the growling.

It was faint, still some distance away,and he walked faster, resisting the urge to break into a run. Runningwould only mark him as easy prey. Fear made him want to look back, tosee how close the beast was, but he kept his eyes on the path beforehim.

The growling grew louder, as if anothercreature had added its voice to the deadly chorus.

He walked faster still and searcheddesperately ahead of him for any sign of civilization, but there wereonly more trees, more concealing underbrush, more misleading shadows.

Behind him, the growling escalated, and hecould ignore the danger no more. It was too close, he had to look, hehad to face what pursued him.

He froze in his tracks and turned slowlyto see a half-circle of wolves behind him, their yellow eyes gleamingin the pale moonlight. The leader stepped forward, growling low inits throat, and he stood his ground. He would not show fear to thisbeast.

It sprang, lunging for his throat, and therest followed. He struggled to fend them off, kicking them viciously,but their numbers overwhelmed him. Their coarse fur filled his handsas he shoved them away; their bestial musk filled his nose as theyfell upon him. But instead of ripping into his vulnerable flesh andkilling him instantly, they tore at him gradually, taking away smallpieces.

He had a very long time toscream.

* * * * *

Awareness returned slowly, one level at atime, but one thing that remained consistent as Remus drifted out ofunconsciousness was the heavy weight on his chest, which he couldn'taccount for, even after he was more or less awake. Cracking his eyesopen, he peered out at the world -- and encountered a familiar, iffuzzy, face. Green eyes regarded him curiously for a moment; a small,wet nose was touched lightly against his.

"Mrraow?"

"Morgause, I presume?" His voice was araspy croak, and every word was a razor blade slicing his throat.

"Mrr."

She sat up, still perched on his chest,gazing down at him with queenly dignity. Then, light as air, sheleapt to the floor and trotted out of the room. Relieved of thepressure on his torso, Remus struggled to push himself upright withpartial success; his limbs were weak, and he had to give up,collapsing against the pillow, panting.

He had lifted himself up enough to be ableto have a good look around, though, and he saw he was in a strangebedroom. The walls and floor were all stone, and the furnishings,though sparse, appeared to be antiques. The bed itself was huge, hungwith dark green bedcurtains; a small table stood beside the bed, butthe only things on it were a lamp, a half-full vial, and a spoon.There was a small fireplace, in which a fire had been lit, a chairpulled near the hearth, a wardrobe, a full-length mirror, and a clockon the mantle. Other than that, the room was devoid of decoration.

Even though she had grown, there was nomistaking the haughty air of the kitten he had rescued, and seeingMorgause had made him think for a moment that he was back atHogwarts, but he knew that couldn't be the case. This room had awindow, which Snape's dungeon quarters didn't have.

Suddenly, Morgause sauntered into the roomagain, and Remus heard footsteps approaching; a moment later, Snapeappeared in the doorway, pausing to give him an appraising once-over.

"You look like hell," Snape announcedflatly.

"I feel like hell." He winced andswallowed hard, but the moisture did nothing to alleviate thesoreness of his throat.

Her tail lifted in a jaunty curve,Morgause strolled across the room and leapt onto the bed again andrested one paw on Remus' shoulder, peering intently at him, beforegiving a little huff as if satisfied by what she saw. Nestling by hisside, she curled up in a tight ball, and he could feel her purringeven through the sheets. Apparently, he thought with no littleamusement, her initial dislike of him had undergone a transformation.For whatever reason, she approved of him now and had, it seemed,appointed herself his nursemaid.

"I'm sure you've got questions," Snapesaid as he approached the bed, stopping in front of the table. "Notthe least of which being, 'how is it that I'm still alive'. However,I advise you against talking until your throat heals. You'll only setyourself back if you do. Here."

He picked up the vial and spoon,unstoppered the vial, and poured out a measure of thick,amber-colored liquid.

"Take this, then I'll provide you withsome answers."

Obediently, Remus took the spoon andswallowed the medicine, bracing himself for some vile concoction, butit tasted like honey, and it coated his throat soothingly.

"Now then." Snape clasped his hands behindhis back, as if preparing to give a lecture to his students. "As towhere you are and how you came to be here, you are in my home. Not myfamily home, mind you, but my private residence, which is located ina remote area of Yorkshire."

It was all Remus could do not to roll hiseyes. The moors. Snape lived on the moors. It figured.

"It's modest, but it serves my purposeduring the summer holidays."

Remus lifted one eyebrow at this. Hehadn't known Snape had his own home; it seemed far more likely thatthe man lived in his dungeon all year round.

"You're here, because I brought you here,"he continued. "I happened to arrive while your guests were toopreoccupied to notice me. I was able to drive them away."

Remus frowned slightly, wanting to askhow, but Snape lifted his hand for silence and gave him a warninglook.

"I'll give you a full account later. Rightnow, you should rest. Are you hungry? Nod or shake only."

He hadn't thought about food until Snapementioned it, and suddenly, his stomach decided to wake up as well,growling as if to answer the question for him, and Snape's lipsquirked up marginally on one side.

"I'll take that as a yes." He turned toleave, but he paused at the door, looking back at Remus, hisexpression even more somber than usual. "No one knows you're here.You're safe now."

Closing his eyes, Remus searched hismemory, trying to reconstruct what had happened. He'd been at home...the Death Eaters surrounded him... One of them had cast a spell..."Morpheus"... That was it, but he couldn't remember ever learningabout that spell, or what it was supposed to do.

"Here. Drink this."

At the sound of Snape's voice, Remus' eyesflew open, and he found a mug of steaming hot broth being offered tohim. He accepted it with a grateful smile and sipped it gingerly,glad that Snape hadn't brought it in a bowl. He didn't feel steadyenough to manage a spoon yet. As Remus drank the broth, Snape fetchedthe chair by the hearth and placed it near the bed, settling himselfas if he intended to remain a while.

"Do you remember what curse they used onyou?" Snape asked after Remus had finished nearly half the mug. "Fromthe effects, it looked like the Morpheus curse. Does that soundright?"

He nodded, and Snape's expression turnedgrim.

"What do you know about it?"

Remus shook his head to indicate he knewnothing.

"It's not among the Unforgiveable Curses,"Snape told him. "But it probably should be. Under the influence ofthe Morpheus curse, the victim is plunged into a world straight fromhis own nightmares. He is trapped within his own mind, where hisworst fears are brought out and used against him. It's a particularlyeffective form of psychological torture. It also has the potential tobe deadly, should the victim's nightmare images inflict damage on hisdream-self."

Remus went still, remembering the wolvesand how they had attacked him. He remembered being sprawled on theground, watching his own blood pool among the fallen leaves. Heremembered the world greying out...

"You were quite lucky."

Staring into the depths of the mug, Remusgave an indifferent shrug. He was alive, yes, but he wasn't certainhe'd call that lucky.

Once again his life had been thrown intoturmoil, and he'd been uprooted from a place he'd wanted to callhome. He doubted much, if anything, from his little cottage wassalvageable. Death Eaters were notoriously thorough, and even thoughSnape had arrived in time to stop them from killing him, he doubtedhe had anything left to return to. Besides, how was he to explain hisdisappearance after the attack? No, his life there had been destroyedalong with his belongings. He would have to start over somewhere else-- again.

Part of him was beginning to wonder if itwas worth the bother.

Of course, another part of him loudlywondered why the bloody hell Snape had showed up there in the firstplace. A few months prior, a little hopeful voice would havewhispered that perhaps it meant he did still care, but that voice wasdead. No doubt, it was simply that Dumbledore needed Remus for TheCause, and had sent Snape to deliver the message, nothingmore.

Suddenly, he felt warm fingers graspinghis chin, tilting it up, and he was forced to meet Snape's piercinggaze; dark eyes searched his face, turning stormy at what they readthere.

"Damn it all," Snape muttered, releasinghis chin as abruptly as he'd seized it. "I am not going to discussanything with you right now, no matter how necessary it is," he saidcurtly. "You need rest, and your throat needs to heal. You screamedit raw. You could lose your voice if you don't stay quiet." He roseto his feet and glared down at Remus. "So shut up, stay put, and goto sleep. We'll discuss this when you're recovered, and not a momentbefore."

Your bedside manner is sorelylacking, Remus thought, returningSnape's glare and hoping the message got across in his eyes, since hecouldn't deliver it aloud.

Pivoting on his heel, Snape strode out ofthe room, not quite slamming the door behind himself. Stewing inresentment, Remus set the mug aside and burrowed deep under the thickcovers, careful not to jostle Morgause too much. Who did Snape thinkhe was, anyway? Telling him to shut up and sleep. Tyrannical bastard,Remus fumed. And what the devil did he think they had to talk about,anyway? Remus had nothing to say to him. It had all been said anddone in June, and there was nothing left.

Nothing.

"Mrrw?"

He felt another touch of a damp nose, onhis cheek this time, and he turned his head to look at Morgause. Shewas watching him intently, as if she had sensed his agitationsomehow.

"I'm fine," he whispered. "But I'll beeven better when I'm away from here."

Away from him.

Morgause gave him a look that was eerilyreminiscent of Snape's own "you're an idiot" look before curling upagain, this time with her back to him.

Fine, be that way, he thought, rolling over on his side.I only saved your life, that'sall.

And Snape saved yours, a wee voice in the back of his mind reminded him.

Remus pulled the covers over his head andignored the voice, ignored Morgause, ignored everything until he losthimself in the oblivion of sleep.

* * * * *

For the next two days, Remus saw more ofMorgause and Nibley, Snape's house elf, than he did of Snape.Morgause seemed to be in charge of monitoring his progress, andNibley took care of his comforts, including bringing his meals,changing the bedclothes, and drawing baths. Nibley was a cheerfulelf, who was quite proud of his role in helping Remus.

"Nibley is knowing all of Master'sbottles," he informed Remus, puffing up his chest with pride. "Mastersays get something, and Nibley gets it. I is helping Master save Mr.Remus' life!"

Between the two, Remus was so well lookedafter that he barely had to lift a finger for himself, but Snape kepthis distance; despite Remus was still furious, he was also hurt bySnape's ignoring him, which made him annoyed with himself. As soon ashe was well enough, he vowed, he would leave. He would sneak out ifhe had to, but he would put as much distance between himself andSnape... as soon as he could walk farther than from his bed to thebathroom without feeling as if his legs were going to give outbeneath him.

The first day, he did little more thansleep and eat the thick stew Nibley brought. According to Nibley, whoimparted the information with a somber air, that was to be expected.The Morpheus curse was a mental and physical drain, and Remus hadbeen far closer to death than he realized. On the second day, he felthis strength returning, but he was consigned to bedrest.

"You may feel as if you're ready to getup," Snape said during his morning visit, "but you shouldn't pushyourself. Rest, and regain your energy."

Other than offering to bring Remus somebooks, Snape left him alone after that, and Remus told himself he wasglad. A tight knot of anger still burned in his chest, and if he lethimself think about the last time he'd seen Snape, he began seethingwith resentment all over again.

The next morning, Nibley came to fetch himfor a bath, and he followed the house elf to the bathroom, wishing heknew where his clothes were. He'd been wearing the same nightshirt --one of Snape's, no doubt -- since his arrival, and he was ready for achange.

He sank down into the steaming hot wateras Nibley whisked the nightshirt away for a quick cleaning, leaningback and closing his eyes. The heat penetrated his muscles, relaxinghim, and he let his mind wander. Sweat beaded at his temples androlled down his face, reminding him of a hot July afternoon when he'dhelped his nearest neighbor with his garden. Mr. Farnon was elderly,his hands stricken with mild arthritis, and Remus had volunteered tohelp weed, hoe, and harvest throughout the summer. They had spent theafternoon in question weeding out rows of vegetables, and Mr. Farnonhad done most of the talking, recounting stories of his youth asRemus listened and soaked up the warmth of the sun as it beat down onthem and warmed the earth beneath his hands.

Emotion clogged his throat at the memory,and he felt his eyelids prickling.

It was one more loss in a string of many,and he had accepted the inevitable pattern of his life long ago. Butacceptance of what he could not change didn't make the hurt go away.He had to work through that first; he had to release his anger andpain before he could reach the point of peaceful acceptance again,but to do it here... under Snape's roof... where Snape might discoverhow vulnerable he was...

But in the end, his own needs were moreimportant than some silly notion of pride. Remus had to deal withthis pain, had to face it and let it go. Otherwise, it would continueto eat at him, and he'd end up just like Sirius and Snape: angry,bitter, festering with old pain. He had chosen not to walk that pathyears ago, and he wouldn't allow this set-back to cause him to straynow.

Hugging his knees to his chest, he rockedback and forth in the soothing bathwater, beginning to work throughthe healing process he had developed over the years to help him cope:all anger was rooted in fear; expose the fear to the light ofscrutiny, and the anger would shrivel and die.

To begin with, he was angry. Why? BecauseSnape had refused to listen to him and to accept the truth. But, hereminded himself, Snape was acting out of anger as well, and he didhave a reason, albeit a misguided one, for being angry, just as Remusdid. All things considered, he understood why Snape distrusted him,even if he didn't like it.

On to the next level.

Why else was he angry? Because afteralmost twenty years apart, he thought he had a chance to claim hismate at last, only to be rejected. Again. He was tired of beingseparated from his mate; he was tired of being alone; he was tired offeeling a constant, dull ache in his heart because part of it -- thepart that had been and always would be with Snape -- was missing. Itlooked as if he would spend the rest of his life bound to, yet cutoff from the one person he wanted to share it with.

But it could be worse, he thought. At least he had found his mate, even ifthey couldn't be together. That was far better than never havingloved at all. And above all else, Snape was still alive. Consideringhow many lives had been lost during Voldemort's attempt to gainpower, Snape might easily have been among the casualties, but he wasalive and well. Where there was life, there was hope, after all.

What else lay behind his anger? Fear...fear of rejection, such as he had faced many times, in many ways. Itwas worse, coming from someone he loved. The pain bit deeper, and itwas harder to let go. But he had faced the worst blow Snape coulddeal him, and he had survived it. There was nothing left to fear. Hewas stronger, and nothing else Snape did or said could hurt him anyworse than he already had been.

So what was left? Nothing. He had reachedthe bottom and, breathing in deep, cleansing breaths, he began movingback up from anger and despair to peace and acceptance once more.

By the time he opened his eyes again, thewater was cold, and his knees were aching; he winced as he unfoldedhis legs and began slowly climbing out of the bathtub. A few moreablutions -- brushing his teeth and shaving off two days' worth ofitchy beard stubble among them -- and he cracked the door open,knowing Nibley would be waiting outside with the clean nightshirt.

Nibley was indeed waiting, but in additionto the nightshirt, he also had a dark green dressing gown for Remusas well.

"Master says today you may be going to theparlor," he explained as Remus accepted the clothes with quietthanks.

Remus pulled on the nightshirt anddressing gown as quickly as he could, ready to enjoy the unexpectedpleasure of not having to spend another day stuck in bed. The scentof mint wafted up from the folds of the dressing gown, and Remusinhaled it deeply, a rueful pang constricting his heart. Underdifferent circumstances, it would be a delicious intimacy to wearSnape's clothes, but this... this was merely expediency.

When he walked into the parlor, Snape wasthere, sitting in a chair by the fire, reading. He glanced up whenRemus arrived, marked his place in the book and set it aside.

"Would you care for some tea?" Snapegestured to the pot and two cups and saucers on the nearby tea table.

"Yes, thanks very much," Remus answeredpolitely as he sat down in the overstuffed wingback chair across fromSnape. His throat was still a little sore, but Snape had told him theredness and swelling had diminished enough that he could speak again;his voice sounded rough and raspy to his own ears, but at least hehadn't lost it.

Snape served him, and they plodded throughthe paces of an awkward social dance, avoiding eye contact andpretending the silence between them wasn't oppressive. It wasn'tuntil Remus set aside his empty cup that Snape reached into thepocket of his robes and pulled out the cracked and splintered remainsof Remus' wand. Remus took them, fingering the pieces lightly, butseeing them didn't make him feel as sad as they once might have done.They were little more than symbols of a broken life he'd left behindmonths before.

"I'm sorry. This was my fault."

Remus' head snapped up, and he stared atSnape, shocked at hearing those words coming out of Snape's mouth.They were spoken in a low, tight voice, and Snape's pained expressionrevealed how difficult it was for him to speak them, but he had doneit.

My God,Remus thought, fighting to keep his lower jaw from unhinging.He's actually taking responsibilityfor his actions. He's growing up at last...

With that, the walls crumbled, and everyounce of love Remus felt came flooding back full force. There was areason he had chosen Severus Snape as his mate, and he was beingreminded of it now: as proud and insufferable as he might be attimes, Severus was also just and honorable, in his own way. Remuswanted nothing more than to let his heart swell with pride, but heknew that wasn't the best way to handle Severus. Not if he wanted thelesson to stick.

"You're right. It was," he repliedquietly, keeping his expression neutral. "They knew what I am. You'veruined me, Severus. Why do you think I was living among Muggles? Itwasn't my first choice. It was the only option left after word spreadabout me."

"I wasn't thinking..."

"No, you weren't. No more than Sirius wasthinking the night he led you to the Shrieking Shack."

"Don't you dare draw comparisonsbetween Black and me!" Severus snarled, clutching the arms of hischair.

"How can I not, when you've both behavedin exactly the same way?" Remus retorted sharply, not about to backdown. "You're both always so damned certain you're right. You lashout like spiteful children to assuage your anger, using words likeknives to cut and sting your victims. Bollocks, all of it. If I hadany sense, I'd tell both of you to piss off for good."

"Is that what you want to do?" Snape askedstiffly. "Is that what you intend to do?"

"No, the more fool me." He put theshattered pieces of his wand on the tea table and folded his hands."So tell me: what were you doing there in the first place?"

Severus didn't pretend not to know what hemeant. "I'd been looking for you," he admitted, turning his gazetoward the fire rather than to Remus. "Albus scolded me, I did a lotof thinking over the summer, and..." He gave an elegant shrug. "I wasforced to accept that I was wrong. What happened in the ShriekingShack was all Black's doing, none of yours. I... thought it only fairto let you know."

"What finally convinced you?" Remus leanedforward in his chair, waiting for the answer.

"I remembered how desperately you tried toget to me afterward," he replied. "In hindsight, I realized if youhad been guilty of conspiring against me, you wouldn't have botheredtrying to talk to me afterward. You would have been in the Gryffindordormitory, laughing and gloating with your friends. I lost count ofhow many times you tried to approach me, and I wouldn't listen. Ididn't want to listen. I thought I knew what had happened."

"But why, Severus? How could you believeme capable of betraying you like that?"

"From my perspective, it made perfectsense," Severus said matter-of-factly. "You were Black's friendbeginning our very first year at Hogwarts. You shared a history withhim. A bond. Until our sixth year, you and I were nothing to eachother. What were a few months of some odd, nebulous rapport comparedto six years of friendship?"

Looking at it from that angle, Remus hadto admit he could see Severus' point, even if he didn't agree withit.

"I had no reason to believe you caredenough about me to risk losing Black, especially since I also knewyou loved him."

"It was a crush," Remus corrected. "Itfaded away quickly enough." He caught himself before he blurted outthe truth: his crush on Sirius had dissipated like mist in sunlightonce he felt the first stirrings of love for Severus.

"I wasn't aware of that."

"I should have told you," he conceded,acknowledging his part in the whole mess. "I did care enough aboutyou to stand up to Sirius. We argued about you the morning before theShrieking Shack incident, and I'm not so sure that wasn't what pushedSirius into doing it in the first place. He was furious when Idefended you, and in a way, he tried to make me choose between youand him. If he had pushed me for a decision, he would have lost bydefault." Remus' tawny brown eyes darkened, and his tone held awarning note. "So would you, had you forced me to choose."

"I would never have done that," Severussaid quietly. "I was too certain I would lose."

"And Sirius was too certain he would win,"Remus sighed. "I should have faced my fear and told you the truthabout how I felt sooner."

"I would say I should have had more faithin you, but we both know trust is hardly my strong point." Heshrugged and spread his hands. "But I was wrong about what happened,and I was wrong about you."

"And?"

"And what?" Severus' eyebrows snappedtogether. "I've apologized. I've admitted I was wrong. What more doyou want?"

"I think you know."

A long moment of silence spun out betweenthem, with the popping and crackling of the fire the only sounds inthe room as Severus leveled an unblinking gaze at him.

"We can never go back," Severus said atlast.

"I know. But is there any reason why wecan't start over?"

"I've changed. I'm not the person you knewthen."

"Then let me get to know the person youare now. I'm not asking for any promises or commitments, Severus. AllI want is a chance to see what might happen, if we let it."

As if he could no longer bear to sitstill, Severus rose to his feet abruptly and moved to stand in frontof the hearth, his back to the room.

"It's all very well to say what we shouldhave done then, but there's no guarantee things would have worked outbetween us. If Black hadn't caused a rift, there were other factorsthat would have done it later."

"Such as?" Remus frowned slightly, puzzledand intrigued, but Severus gave a dismissive wave and refused toelaborate. "Fine, but whatever those factors were, they're also inthe past." Remus stood and went to Severus' side, resting a gentlehand on his shoulder. "It's over. Let's forget all of it and startanew."

There was another long moment of silence,but this time, when Severus turned his head to look at Remus,amusement lurked in the depths of his eyes.

"I do hope you're not expecting me tobreak down and weep in your arms, or something equally soppy."

"If you did, you wouldn't be the Severus Iknow."

He nodded, then turned his gaze back tothe fire, and they stood that way for a while: side by side, Remus'hand on Severus' shoulder, and Severus allowing it. Nothing more wassaid. Perhaps, Remus thought, everything that could be said at thatpoint had been. After a time, Severus murmured something aboutneeding to check on a potion, and he walked away, pausing once toglance back at Remus.

"I'm pleased to see the despair is gonefrom your eyes."

And then Severus was gone, leaving Remusalone with his thoughts and, he noticed, a plateful of chocolatebiscuits. Curling up in his chair again, Remus snagged the plate andmunched the biscuits, feeling far more at peace than he had merehours before.

* * * * *

"Lupin."

The sound of his name, softly as it wascalled, penetrated Remus' light doze and roused him to wakefulnessagain; he blinked, yawned, and looked around to orient himself. Hewas still in the parlor, still in the same chair, only with a book inhis lap, and he decided he must have drifted off while reading.Severus stood nearby, a piece of parchment in his hand, and Remusnoticed it had the Hogwarts seal on it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, sitting upstraight and inadvertantly letting the book slip from his lap.

"No." Severus shook his head and glanceddown at the parchment. "Albus has summoned all the faculty backearly."

"So... you won't be here for the next twoweeks?"

"No, for I must away." He refolded theparchment and tucked it away in a hidden pocket. "Hogwarts is hostinga special event this year, and there are preparations to be made." Hewaved one hand, clearly irritated by all the fuss and bother. "Butthere are some things I want to settle with you before I go."

Remus leaned back in his chair, eyingSeverus warily. "Such as?"

"Here." Severus reached into his robesagain and pulled out a small pouch, the metallic clinks from withintelling Remus that it contained coins. "I want you to go toOllivander's, and buy a new wand. I'd do it myself, but you knowOllivander's policy: the wand chooses the wizard, and all thatrubbish."

"Severus, I can't--"

"You can and you will," Severusinterrupted him sternly. "It's the least I can do, all thingsconsidered. Think of it as a belated Christmas gift, if you must."

Remus nodded, disappointed, but notsurprised by the implications of that remark, and he accepted thepouch in silence.

"Apparate there, and straight back again,and try to be seen as little as possible," Severus continued with hisinstructions. "No one other than myself and Albus knows what happenedto you, or where you are. I pulled up my hood before I went charginginto the fray, which means the Death Eaters cannot link your rescueto me. They probably have doubts whether you even survived, and theless they know, the better."

"Of course." Remus stared down at hishands in his lap, not really seeing them. He had thought he would beable to coax Severus into letting him remain until the term began,but it appeared he would have to begin searching for a place to startover again sooner than expected.

"There's something else I want you to do."

Remus lifted his gaze to Severus' face,which was as closed as usual. "What's that?"

"Stay here."

"What?"

"Stay. Here. What's so damned hard tounderstand about that?" Severus replied, his voice generously lacedwith irritation. "You've been targeted by the Death Eaters, for God'ssake. You need a safe place to stay. This house," he gestured to thestone walls, "not only has the benefit of being in a remote, sparselypopulated area, but it also has... certain protections on it." Anegligent shrug punctuated that casual remark. "Nothing so elaborateor effective as Hogwarts, but it will suffice."

"I can't -- I won't hide forever,"Remus said sharply.

"Not forever, just the year. Perhaps bythen, Voldemort's intentions will be clearer." Severus paused, thenadded darkly, "or you'll be needed elsewhere." Suddenly turningbusiness-like again, he clapped his hands together. "Now then,there's a cauldron of the wolfsbane potion in my workroom. Youneedn't do anything to it, except make certain it remains on low heatuntil you've finished taking it for the month. If you think it'sdisgusting hot, you'll find it doubly so cold."

"It tastes worse?" Remus could scarcely imagine that was even possible.

"It congeals."

"Oh, God..." He made a mental note neverto let the fire go out beneath that cauldron, if he had to spend thenight on the floor next to it.

"You'll also find a trunk in the cellar. Isalvaged what I could from your cottage. There wasn't much left, butwhat I found is in there." He paused, thinking. "I believe thatcovers it. If not, I'll send you an owl."

With that, he turned as if to leave, andRemus jumped up, stretching out his hand.

"Wait!" he cried, and Severus glanced backat him, one eyebrow raised. "That's it? That's your idea of sayinggood-bye?"

"What is it you want, exactly?" Severusturned to face him again and folded his arms. "Roses? A tear-stainedletter?"

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Allright, fine. You've said good-bye your way. Now I'm going to say itmyway."

He stalked towards Severus with a rolling,predatory gait and a wicked gleam in his eyes as he closed in on hisprey. Severus backed up a step involuntarily before he caught himselfand stood his ground, dark eyes filled with curiosity, but notapprehension. Remus moved in close and slid one arm around Severus'waist; Severus rested his hands on Remus' shoulders as if he intendedto push him away, but somehow, he never got around to doing it.

With gentle fingers, Remus stroked thesmall expanse of skin revealed between Severus' jaw and hishigh-collared shirt and waistcoat, breathing deeply of his mate'sscent now that he had the luxury of being so close. He felt the heatof Severus' body radiating even through the layers of clothes, heardthe slight acceleration of his breathing. Sheer proximity was causingRemus' instincts to rampage, urging him to take his matenow,but he knew giving in to that impulse would do more damage than hecould ever repair.

Instead, he pushed the fabric down andsealed his mouth over that exposed patch of skin, sucking hard enoughto draw blood to the surface.

"What the blo -- oh..."

Severus' fingers gripped his shoulderstighter, but he didn't stop until he was certain he had created amark. Then he drew a tight little pattern within the boundaries ofthe mark with his tongue before stepping back and giving Severus hismost disingenuous smile.

"Something to remember me by," he said ashe smoothed the collars back into place.

"You really must want to go all the wayback to the beginning, giving me a hickey like some hormonallycharged adolescent." But while his tone held its usual hint ofannoyance, there was no heat behind the words, which Remus assumedmeant he didn't mind, or perhaps didn't mind enough to get angryabout it.

At least, not until he finds out thetruth, Remus thought wickedly.

"All done with our leave-taking?" Severusraised a questioning eyebrow, and Remus tried to look innocent.

"Yes, Severus," he said as meekly as hecould manage, but Severus' quiet snort said he didn't pull it offwell.

"Good. I'll be off, then, as soon as Icollect Morgause." Once more he made as if to leave, and once more,he paused, this time to level a warning look at Remus. "Be careful,"he reiterated.

"You too," Remus replied, shoving hishands deep into the pockets of the dressing gown to keep himself fromrunning over and claiming a kiss. Or more.

A curt nod was the only answer he gotbefore Severus was gone, the door closing behind him. Remus releaseda slow sigh, rocking back and forth on his heels as he thought aboutall that had transpired within the last few minutes. For the nextnine months, he had a place to stay, which was a huge relief, and hehad reached a tenuous agreement with Severus. A rather unexpected butnot unwelcome turn of events.

Whistling to himself, he headed to theceller to check the trunk and see what remained to him, wonderingexactly how much righteous indignation Severus Snape was capable ofcommunicating in writing, or if he'd just send a Howler instead.

Oh, yes, he thought with a pleased littlesmile, life had definitely taken a most interesting new turn.

 

-End-

 

TBC in Wicked Game II: Let Me Dream ofYou