Becoming Neville

Over the remainder of the full moon period. Snape stayed near St. Mungo's. After all, he was something of an expert on the wolfsbane potion, and on lycanthropy in general, not to mention this lycanthrope in particular. He stayed both nights at St. Mungo's so he could monitor Lupin and advise the mediwizards. He also needed to be on hand to consult with Dumbledore about the matter of Bellatrix Lestrange. So he had ample excuse to hover in Lupin's vicinity without giving people the impression that he was actually worried about the man.

But he was worried, and his worry worried him. Lupin was an irritant, a burden around his neck, always turning to Snape for help - with Black, with those infernal boys, with the wolfsbane potion. (Of course the man had never directly asked for it; he had Dumbledore do it for him.) He even had asked for help with sex. Granted the latter wasn't too much of a burden, but Snape was only doing it for his own satisfaction, and he certainly wouldn't want anyone, especially Lupin, to get some kind of ridiculous notion in his mind that Snape actually cared. Because he didn't.

So when he hovered near the containment room as Lupin went through two more changes, it was only because he needed to be on hand if the hospital staff required his assistance. The nights were indeed hard on Lupin. The wolf was crazed and did further harm to himself. Sedatives were not effective on werewolves, and the wolfsbane potion did not seem to be working as well on Lupin as normal. Snape suspected that the stress not only of the previous night, but also since Black's death, was contributing to the wolf's problems, though he was careful to emphasize the latter so as to distract the mediwizards from inquiring why Lupin seemed bent on tearing himself to shreds. Snape went on at length about how unbalanced Lupin had become since Black's death, given to deep depression and bouts of hysterical crying. He relished the chance to paint Lupin in the most lurid of terms, until the mediwizards began to wonder whether they ought to have Lupin committed to the mental ward. Snape had to backpedal and assure them that Lupin would be all right once the full moon passed. Meanwhile he pretended to take copious notes so he could make suitable adjustments to the wolfsbane, as if that were the source of Lupin's problem.

For his part, Lupin seemed to be playing to Snape's excessive description of him. He slept most of the days, but when he woke, he neither spoke nor ate. Normally lycanthropes ate ravenously during the full moon period, and the mediwizards became extremely concerned. Without nourishment, Lupin's health was rapidly declining.

A parade of visitors, carefully screened by Dumbledore, passed through Lupin's room expressing concern and support, but the werewolf spoke to none of them. Snape stayed in the hall, standing guard. Let others fawn over Lupin. Snape certainly did not care. When visitors commented that he seemed worried, he simply said, "Of course I'm worried. If Lupin dies, Dumbledore might saddle me with the babysitting duties." His remarks resulted in many satisfactory grumblings about 'how could he be so insensitive' and 'Poor Lupin, Snape always did hate him' and so on.

But he suspected that Dumbledore was not convinced by the act, and on the fourth day when Lupin still refused to eat, the Headmaster paused to talk to Snape after consulting with the mediwizards. "His condition is getting worse. If he doesn't eat by evening they will attempt to force feed him. But there is some concern that he might fight it, and with his injuries...." The old man stroked his beard, his eyes pale with sadness.

"Can't you talk some sense into him?" said Snape.

"I have certainly tried. But he pretends to be asleep. I'm not sure he's heard a word I've said to him."

Silently cursing Lupin's stubbornness, Snape said, "Isn't there someone else who can talk to him?"

"Who? Minerva tried scolding him. Molly petted him. I'm starting to wonder if we ought to let Harry have a go."

"That would not be wise. Potter will no doubt become hysterical if he sees Lupin in this state."

"That is my concern as well. But I don't know who else Remus might listen to." Dumbledore peered at Snape over the rim of his glasses, wearing that 'I really hate to bother you, but' expression that Snape loathed with every ounce of his being. "Severus, I wonder if you would be willing to try? You have a certain...way with words. And I've noticed that in the last few months Remus seems to have come to trust you in a way he doesn't trust many others."

"That's ridiculous," Snape protested in his own defense.

"Perhaps. But it is worth a try."

Snape made a great show of rolling his eyes and sighing with a persecuted air.

Dumbledore beamed at him. "Thank you, Severus. Just do your best."

"I'll get him eating. I certainly have plenty of experience dealing with melancholic students."

Dumbledore patted his shoulder. "That's the spirit, my boy. I have confidence in you."

Releasing another great sigh for good measure, Snape pushed open the door and entered Lupin's room. The man was lying still in bed, apparently asleep. Snape stood over him and barked, "Lupin, wake up!"

The eyelids fluttered, but there was no other movement.

Pulling out his wand, Snape tapped on the tray next to Lupin's bed and ordered, "Chicken soup. And a pot of tea." When the items appeared on the tray, Snape pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and said, "Enough of this melodrama, Lupin. You will eat."

Still nothing.

He stirred the soup. "I'll grant you that eating Bellatrix Lestrange would destroy anyone's appetite, but I'm sure this soup will clear your palate."

At last, success. Lupin opened his eyes and glared at Snape with a ferocity that rivaled the fiercest of the Dark Lord's glares. "You fucking bastard."

"Yes, I know," Snape said mildly, spooning up the broth. "You have ten seconds to sit up and start eating, or else I'll pour this soup in your face."

But Lupin only closed his eyes and turned away again.

Snape heaved an enormous sigh. After years of practice, he had developed a formidable lung capacity and had his own elaborate vocabulary of sighs. This was his 'I'm on the verge of strangling you' sigh. "I do not make idle threats, Lupin. You ought to know that. One stupid werewolf, two stupid werewolf, three stupid...."

Still turned away, Lupin said, "I just want to get it over worth."

"So do I," Snape heartily assured him, then paused. "Get what over with?"

"Can't they just arrest me now? I'd rather not go through the trouble of getting well first."

"Arrest you?" echoed Snape. "Surely the Headmaster told you."

There was a pause. "I haven't listened to anything he said."

"Stupid man!" Snape heaved his 'why must I suffer such idiocy' sigh. He spared a quick glance at the door to ensure that no one would overhear and leaned closer to say in a low voice. "It was decided to say nothing of the matter. No one knows except those of us who were present, and Dumbledore. The others were told merely that she was killed, but not how or by whom. As far as anyone knows, you remained safely locked in the basement all night." He leaned back in his seat. "This means, of course, that the Ministry remain unaware of her death, but the Headmaster felt they could not be trusted with the truth. It is not only to save your sorry pelt. The headquarters must remain a secret. So you see, it's not about you at all. Now, get up and eat."

Lupin remained silent and unmoving.

Snape growled in displeasure. "All right then. Where was I? Four stupid werewolf, five stupid werewolf...." He carefully picked up the soup dish.

"I can't," whispered Lupin, his voice hitching. "I can't, not after what I did."

"What you did?" Snape repeated. "You mean the part where you stopped a madwoman and saved all our lives?"

"I ate her." His voice rasped as if he had broken glass in his throat.

"You did not. Well," Snape corrected himself, "perhaps a very little bit. But I got you out of the room as quickly as I could. You weren't in there with her above a minute at most."

Lupin rolled over, staring at Snape with reddened eyes. "You did?"

"Yes."

Lupin looked up at the ceiling, and Snape strained so hard not to sigh that he feared he might burst a vessel in his brain. But Lupin wasn't ready to let it go. "I killed her," he choked.

"Yes, we've been over this already."

Shuddering, Lupin covered his face with his arms.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Snape breathed out his 'Dammit, now I have to be patient' sigh. He rested a hand on Lupin's arm. Poppy Pomfrey was always harping on him about the importance of human touch when comforting disconsolate students and blah blah blah. "I suppose killing as a werewolf is some kind of tremendous taboo for you. While normally I would be gratified to hear it, in this case your actions were not only justified, but necessary. Think about it, you stupid man. If you'd been human, you would have done everything in your power to stop her. But if you had been human, you would likely have been no more successful than the rest of us. As a werewolf, however, you took her by surprise. I daresay, only as a werewolf could you have stopped her at all."

Lupin lay still for a long time, his breathing ragged. He was silent for so long that Snape was about to start counting down seconds again when Lupin at last spoke up. "I am glad I stopped her." His voice was so painful, it hurt Snape to listen to it. "But I just - I never wanted to kill as a werewolf. All my life I've fought to control the beast, and now -." His voice broke entirely, and Snape knew he was crying behind his arms.

"It is the nature of war that no one can afford to remain innocent. And I daresay...." He licked his lips, not sure if this would backfire. "I daresay Black would approve of your method of avenging him."

There. Now he had a foul taste in his mouth from saying something even remotely sympathetic concerning that flea-infested mutt. But Lupin didn't lash out at him for it.

"I expect he would," Lupin choked out. He didn't sound particularly relieved by the thought. Just resigned.

Snape absolutely hated to be around crying people. He inevitably wanted to shake them, which of course only made things worse. He managed to restrain himself and let Lupin have what Poppy liked to call a 'good cry'. Four and a half seconds seemed like a reasonable time. A grown man ought to have gotten it out of his system and be able to pull himself together. Doing his best to sound sympathetic, Snape said, "Come now, Lupin. That's enough caterwauling. Time to sit up and eat."

He got his hands under Lupin's shoulders and tugged, pulling him up to a sitting position. But once up, Lupin continued leaning forward, wrapping his arms around Snape and burying his face in Snape's neck. Once there he continued with his infernal crying. Not hysterical, fortunately, but still definitely leaking fluid. It occurred to Snape that in the past few months he had endured more crying from this man than from many an angst-ridden student. But just now he couldn't quite find it in his heart to shake the man. In fact, it was almost pleasant the way Lupin clung to him, snuffling into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Lupin, patting him a bit on the back in a way that he hoped was more like comforting, and less like burping a colicky baby.

His irritation melted away, and he let Lupin cry as long as he wanted. And it did go on for what seemed like an absurd amount of time, but then eating someone was no doubt a very good reason to cry. Eventually Lupin quieted down a bit, and Snape said, "There now, enough of that. You're weak enough as it is. All this blubbering will only wear you out. You need to eat." He shifted Lupin against his shoulder so he could free a hand to reach for the broth.

"I'm sorry I attacked you," Lupin sniffled. "If I had bitten you -."

Snape could hear the quaver in Lupin's voice, and in an effort to forestall further crying, he said, "But you didn't. Therefore I forgive you." He held the spoon to Lupin's lips. "Now eat."

Lupin sniffed at the soup and recoiled. "Not that. I don't think I could ever eat meat again."

Snape rolled his eyes and gave his 'here we go again' sigh. "A vegetarian werewolf," he scoffed. "Now I've seen everything." But he fished his wand out of his pocket and tapped the tray.

"Vegetable broth," he ordered.