Be All My Secrets Remembered

Chapter Thirteen: 'Twixt the Heart and the Head

14 February 1977

If he saw another heart, Remus was quite certain he would vomit. The same held true for James Potter and Kate Campbell, who should have thanked their lucky stars that Remus had some sense of general courtesy. As matters stood, they were far too attached--literally--to one another to even notice. And so caught up was Remus in his own superhuman efforts not to spew his lunch onto the main street of Hogsmeade, that he did not notice Lily Evans apparently intent upon a very similar task.

"Obnoxious, aren't they?" she observed with a wry grin. "It's been two months. Is he still feeling guilty about Christmas?"

"Not likely. Girls are just stupid about Valentine's Day," Remus all but growled.

"Correction: Some girls are stupid about Valentine's Day. There are those among us who have better things to do with our time," Lily pointed out.

"Very well, I concede," he said grudgingly. "That doesn't mean I have to like the holiday any better."

"What about your Greek bird?"

"See the Greek bit. I sent her an owl. How terribly romantic. Here, have an owl."

"Oh Remus." Lily bit back the desperate urge to laugh. "I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"Yes Evans, just laugh at my pain!" He rolled his eyes, but it was fairly obvious he was on the verge of smiling. "Besides, I shouldn't be complaining. I'm standing here on Valentine's Day with the girl James Potter would kill to have."

"Shush!" Lily hissed, giggling. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

"You sound like Dorcas. I was hoping I'd not have to hear teasing about that, for a little while at least," she sighed. "Where is she anyway?"

"I have no idea. She said something about extra Defence Against the Dark Arts tutorial or something odd like that." He shrugged. "Buy you a butterbeer?"

"Sounds lovely." Linking her arm through his, they strolled through the door into the Three Broomsticks. Madame Rosmerta was behind the bar as per usual, but most of the tables were taken up by couples either mid-snog or very close to doing so. Lily glanced toward Remus, shrugging. "Let's take the corner. We won't have to look at them."

"My thoughts exactly." He tossed his coat on the bench to mark it. "I'll go get drinks."

Lily took her time untangling coat, scarf, and gloves. But even after she'd set them all in a nice folded pile beside her, Remus still hadn't returned. She stood to seek him out just as the door swung open again to admit two very familiar figures.

"Let it not be said you don't know how to wear a girl out," were the first words out of Dorcas Meadowes' mouth. "Lord, I'm absolutely knackered!"

"You did your fair share," her companion replied, running one hand through his surprisingly disordered black hair. "Oi! Moony! What are you doing here in Lovers' Lane?"

"Bemoaning my lack of love," Remus shot back. Balancing two nearly overfilled glasses of butterbeer, he gestured toward the corner table with his head. "But seeing as you're here with a girl, maybe I shouldn't invite you over."

"Remus Lupin, for shame," said Dorcas with attempted severity. "As if you're one to talk. I see Lily hiding back there."

"We're being entirely platonic."

"As are we."

"You, platonic? The Reigning Tart of Ravenclaw?" he challenged, grinning. "Can't believe it. Least of all based on what I heard you say as you came in."

"Sirius was teaching me how to duel, if you must know," she pointed out. "Seemed a useful skill to have. And he's far better at it than I am, so naturally, I'm exhausted from keeping pace."

"Though she did, I'll have you know," Sirius interjected, carrying two glasses of mulled mead to the table. "Evans, a pleasure as always. Are you out to steal Moony away from his Aphrodite?"

"Nothing of the sort," Lily answered. "What's this about duelling?"

"Oh, Meadowes here asked me if I'd be willing to teach her. Seemed a good way to keep in practice as well." He shifted to allow Dorcas enough space while Remus slid in beside Lily on the other side. "She's vicious. Be careful."

"I am not," protested Dorcas, without any rancour whatsoever. "You were the one who threw the Tickling Curse at me."

"After I'd been stuck under Tarantallegra for a good five minutes. My legs haven't hurt that much since Narcissa dragged me to a ceilidh three years ago. She was trying to impress some bloke from Inverness and wanted an escort."

"And did she?" Lily enquired, taking a sip of butterbeer. "Impress him, I mean?"

"She did, and thankfully it had nothing to do with my dancing, which was legendarily bad. The whisky, however, was fantastic, and very soon, I stopped caring about the fact that I couldn't feel my legs," he concluded. "Of course, that came to naught, as we all know."

"That we do," Remus agreed, taking his cue to change the subject. "So, how about a toast?" He raised his mug. "Who wants to start?"

"To Laura Hennessey," declared Sirius with a flashing grin as he raised his glass. "May she put some backbone into our precious Wormtail."

Lily raised her mug, clinking it against those already raised. "Hear hear!"

Dorcas held up her glass of mead, examining the amber liquid under the light. "All'amore, alla vita. To life and love in all its forms."

"I'll drink to that." Remus smiled rather mysteriously. Dorcas studied him with some curiosity but when he said nothing more, contented herself with taking a sip of mead.

"So, who else thinks Potter and Kate are being ridiculous?" Lily asked the table at large after they had all set their glasses down. "Remus and I are in agreement there."

"Can't say I've paid them much mind," admitted Sirius with a shrug.

"How do you manage that? You're only living with Potter, after all."

"Exactly. You learn to block things out, living with someone," he explained. "We've all had to learn to block out his snoring, after all. Not much of a difference."

"He does have a point," Dorcas put in, smiling wickedly over the top of her glass. "Might we have a bit of an ulterior motive for such criticism, Lily?"

Sirius laughed, leaning close to whisper something to Dorcas, while Lily glared and busied herself with her drink. Remus' lips twitched, as if he were doing his best not to smile. "Indeed," he said with as much gravity as he could muster, "I think it's a good question."

"You would," muttered Lily.

"Well, do you blame me? We all know you kissed Potter," Dorcas pointed out. "Isn't it at least within the realm of possibility that you might be...well...jealous?"

"No! I have no interest in James Potter and I never will."

Dorcas grinned. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

Inexplicably, Remus turned red and took a larger-than-normal gulp of butterbeer.

"Remus? Darling, are you quite alright?" asked Dorcas, openly puzzled. "Or do you have something against Hamlet?"

"Nothing," he replied with a shrug that came off as a little too nonchalant.

Dorcas leant her chin on her hand, studying him. "I think there's something you aren't telling us, Remus Lupin."

"Wait..." Lily smiled suddenly, as if struck by a brainwave. "You were the one who kissed someone, weren't you? The one Sirius saw!"

"I..." Remus trailed off, staring defiantly at the tabletop. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Who was it? Come on, tell us!"

"Oh, he doesn't need to if he doesn't want to," Sirius interjected lazily, shooting Remus a wicked grin. "Besides, the subject was Potter, not Moony."

"I've heard enough about Potter," protested Lily. "I'm sick of bloody Potter!"

"Of course you are," Dorcas teased. "If he came in here and recited Shakespeare, you'd fall right back into his arms, Kate Campbell or no."

"I would not," Lily retorted primly. "There's no element of surprise anymore."

"Ah, there we have it, Moony," Sirius declared in a stage whisper. "We need to find Prongs a new plan of attack."

"There will be no plans and there will be no attacking." Lily looked distinctly worried. "I don't want to hear any more."

"Then why, pray tell, did you bring him up in the first place?" enquired Dorcas.

"I..." Lily sighed. "Oh, very well. I brought it up. But only because it annoyed me."

"Annoyed. See the choice of words, gentlemen," Dorcas pronounced. "Means it caught her attention."

"Of course it caught my attention! I practically tripped over them when I was leaving Gryffindor Tower this morning! Remus, make her stop!"

But Remus was laughing too hard to do any such thing. Sirius, with exaggerated gravity, turned to Dorcas and shook his head. "We must keep our theories to ourselves, I'm afraid, and continue our Machiavellian schemes on our own."

"Machiavellian indeed! You Gryffindors wouldn't know subtlety unless it started screaming at you," she teased.

"Which is why we have not just any Ravenclaw, but a Prefect as well..." He broke off, looking round the table. "How on earth did I end up at a table with three Prefects on Valentine's Day? My reputation will be ruined."

"Why, what should you be doing? Breaking the hearts of innocent young girls?" Dorcas offered, dark brows raised innocently over amused brown eyes. "Oh wait, you do that every day."

"Not intentionally," he protested.

"I have to admit I never saw you doing anything specific on Valentine's Day, Padfoot," Remus observed, having finally exhausted his laughter. "None of us did, really. Except when Peter wrote that horrific poetry to Florence Grayson last year."

"Nothing ever came of that, did it?"

"One snog behind the greenhouses, I believe." He shrugged. "Or so the rumours said. Florence refused to speak to him after that."

"He actually hexed Bertha Jorkins for telling, didn't he?" Lily asked, visibly thankful for the change of subject. "I didn't think he had it in him."

"Peter does surprise us all every now and then," Remus allowed. "I think Hennessey actually had tears in her eyes when she saw his gift."

"That really is sweet." Lily smiled a trifle wistfully. "And he doesn't insist upon making a big show of it..."

"Unlike James Potter," the other three chorused before dissolving into laughter yet again. Lily buried her face in her hands.

"I give up."

***

Peter was singing under his breath when he returned to the Gryffindor Common Room at half past two in the morning. Gilbert and Sullivan, to be precise. The portraits had all looked rather oddly at him, given that he had been wearing James's invisibility cloak at the time.

"Live to love and love to live--

You will ripen at your ease,

Growing on the sunny side--

Fate has nothing more to give..."

"Who the hell is that?" growled the previously unseen occupant of the couch in a voice that sounded suspiciously like...

"Prongs?" Peter slipped the cloak off his shoulders, his frown now visible. "I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone would be awake."

"Oh, Wormtail. Should have guessed. I didn't know you could sing."

"I..." Peter blinked. "I don't do it often."

"You should. I'm sure Hennessey would like it."

"She does," he confessed, unable to keep from smiling. "That's why I was singing it in the first place. Because I sang it to her. Mum gave me the idea. Said Dad used to sing to her when..." he trailed off, the smile vanishing.

James was looking at him now, though in the uncertain light, he couldn't quite make out the other's expression. "How is your mum?"

"As well as she ever is." Peter sank onto the couch beside James. "The Ministry gave her a pension, sure, but it's only just enough. Their excuse was that they gave Mrs Black the same amount, but...you know what I mean."

"Yeah, it's not as though the Blacks need money," James confirmed. "So it was the same accident? They finally admitted it?"

"They never denied it, Prongs. Arcturus Black was just the one everybody heard about. After all, who really cared about his not-nearly-so-prestigious assistant anyway?"

"Don't say that. Padfoot--"

"I know, I know. And I liked Mr Black well enough...what little I knew of him, that is. Though Dad kept warning me to keep my mouth shut about Mum being a Muggle...like it was something to be ashamed of. It didn't really hit me until the summer exactly what that meant." Peter sighed, twisting the delicate material of the cloak between his fingers. "Just lucky, I suppose, that Mum's maiden name was Fawcett. Nobody even asked twice. Of course, now she doesn't really talk to anyone."

"I just noticed at Christmas dinner is all," said James, a bit hesitantly. "She couldn't look at Padfoot without wincing. He didn't know what he'd done wrong."

"He just reminds her, that's all. Even I do." Peter shoved the cloak aside to keep from fidgeting with it further. "You alright, Prongs?"

"Of co---no, I don't suppose I look alright," he conceded, offering up a wry grin. "I'm fine. Just..." with a sigh, he thought for a moment, "Do you love Hennessey?"

Peter blinked. "I...I don't know, actually. I like her, a lot. She's got this smile; it's little and almost looks as though she's embarrassed, but happy, you know..." He lowered his eyes, feeling the heat creep across his cheeks. "I sound like an idiot."

"Oh, it's soppy, all right. But it's nice." James's smile faded slightly. "I don't have any of that...with Kate. I like her well enough, but..." he shook his head. "Bloody Evans!"

"What did she do this time?"

"I can't get it out of my head, Wormtail. It felt right. And I hate that it did, because I don't want to hurt Kate. I like her, I really do, I just don't..." James trailed off, staring into the fireplace. "She told me she loved me."

"Oh hell," muttered Peter. "What did you say?"

"Something. I don't remember. This wasn't supposed to happen. We're not serious. We were supposed to stay together until one of us got bored and decided to move on. And now she's talking about the future. I'm barely seventeen! The future doesn't exist!"

"Girls are weird like that," he offered. "Besides, it was probably some stupid Valentine's Day thing."

"I hope you're right. And then Evans was hanging all over Moony..."

"What?"

"Alright, so she wasn't really hanging all over him, but they were with Padfoot and Meadowes, who didn't look entirely unfriendly, and...I know she likes Moony, but does she have to do that?"

"Umm...I don't think you need to worry about Moony," Peter finally said, a trifle uneasily. "Trust me. You don't."

"If you say so," replied James, though he looked doubtful.

"Though...did you say Padfoot was with Meadowes? The Ravenclaw Prefect?"

"Yeah, the Tart." Even as he said it, James felt himself smiling. "Now, keep in mind, I don't think she's done half the things everyone says she's done. But I'll bet you one Zonko's product that if anyone's going to get a leg over Padfoot, she'd do it."

"You think that?" It was Peter's turn to look doubtful. "She's not that pretty."

"No, but Padfoot doesn't notice pretty girls. Haven't you seen that? Bloody annoying, that's what it is," he added with a grimace. "Evans kissed him. By choice. How wrong is that?"

"Wasn't there mistletoe? And enchanted mistletoe at that?"

"She was enjoying herself, Wormtail." James buried his face in his hands. "And I could have sworn she didn't mind when I kissed her, but it's bloody hard to tell with her. She wasn't laughing, though. She was laughing with him."

"Prongs, if you promise not to tell them I told you..." Peter leant forward and whispered something to James. His friend rocked backward, landing against the arm of the couch.

"Moony...and Padfoot?"

"Yeah. You want to know why he doesn't notice girls. Or why Moony isn't interested in Evans." Peter shrugged. "There you have it."

"Well, why didn't they tell me? Why didn't Padfoot tell me?" James sounded vaguely hurt. "And what's this about Meadowes then?"

Peter threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I'm only telling you what I saw."

"Yeah. I don't remember how much of that champagne Padfoot drank, but..." he broke off, unable to hide his grin. "You sure I can't tell them?"

"No! I was the only one who saw. Please don't tell them."

"Oh, fine, fine, I won't tell."

***

As much as Severus Snape would have appreciated beginning his work on Valentine's Day, his need for a new moon outweighed his sense of personal irony, and he began four days later, closing and locking the door of the Potions dungeon behind him. Professor Agrippa, in spite of his voiced misgivings, did not renege on his usual offer of an alibi.

The potion would have been far more effective, he knew, had he brewed it two years ago, or perhaps even last year, but his abilities were nowhere near the standard required for an endeavour at this level of complexity. Fourteen days of carefully planned brewing, ingredients added on the most precise of timetables. It was a challenge as much as a necessity, and one that he found himself looking forward to, in all honesty. For more reasons than one.

As his hands worked meticulously and he glanced almost idly back and forth between the bubbling cauldron and the professor's own marked-up copy of Moste Potente Potions, Severus allowed his thoughts to wander at will. Rosier was right, of course. Evans was a liability and he would soon rid himself of that liability. Another few weeks, no more than that.

Of course, even in terms of liabilities, she was a deep-rooted one. For all that, as Professor Agrippa had pointed out, they had only started speaking to one another for entirely self-serving reasons. Lily had sought him out in part to set herself at cross-purposes with Sirius Black, and in a particularly Slytherin-esque fashion, using her own defence of Severus to shoot several rather nasty hexes in Black's direction. Being Black, he'd refrained from retaliating against her specifically, choosing instead to double his attacks on Severus. It had not been a particularly auspicious beginning. But Lily had managed to send both Black and Potter off by a fairly impressive array of threats. Even Severus had to begrudge her that.

And he wasn't much better. Observant as he was, he had seen the way Potter's eyes followed her, and had taken up the offer of friendship, if only to satisfy himself with his enemy's obvious jealousy.

The smoke flared upward, filling the room with the unmistakeable scent of wormwood. Apt, considering his thoughts. He could at least satisfy himself with the knowledge that she still thought Potter to be the scum of the earth, whatever her changed opinion of Black might be.

Not that it matters, Severus. You have better things to do with your time. His recollection shifted to the Rosiers' party. Yes indeed. Far better things to do with his time.

The Thursday before the full moon--the evening before he was to drink the potion--he cancelled his usual Potions tutorial with Lily to snatch a quick meal with Rosier and the others. Upon returning, however, it took him no more than a split second to realise that the door to the dungeon was unlocked when he had specifically locked it before heading up to the Great Hall.

On instinct, Severus pulled out his wand before stepping through. At the sound of his footsteps, the black-haired young man inspecting the potion swung around, his own wand at the ready. Again, barely any hesitation, before Sirius Black hissed, "Expelliarmus!"

Severus barely had time to open his mouth before his wand flew into the air, the force of the spell knocking him away from the door and into the corner. Black advanced swiftly, picking up the fallen wand as he did so and holding both in front of him, his expression stony.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he rasped.

"I don't see how it's any business of yours, Black," retorted Severus, scrambling to his feet before another curse knocked him down. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Looking for Evans. Apparently she comes here on Thursdays."

"It should be damned obvious that she's not here. So get out." Much as it annoyed him, Severus felt a slight twinge of nervousness. The Potions dungeon was notoriously far away from just about everything else, and the thick walls masked almost any sound from within. As if reading his thoughts, Black shot a spell at the door, slamming it shut. "I told you to get out, Black."

"You're not in a position to give orders, Snivellus," he pointed out with the glitter of a smile. "I suggest you explain yourself."

"And what if I don't?"

"I have two wands. You have none. You do the maths."

"Professor Agrippa--"

"Is still in the Great Hall, talking to Flitwick and Dumbledore. Flitwick was the one who told Wormtail where Evans was supposed to be, and Wormtail told me." He leaned against the nearest desk, idly examining Severus' wand. "So, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?"

"I'm asking you one last time, Black..."

"And I'm telling you one last time, Snivellus, that I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what the hell you're doing with asphodel, rose petals, and Evans' hair." Despite the clipped enunciation of the words, there was no doubt that Black was on the verge of losing his temper. "Of course, it isn't as if she'd touch you of her own free will. I suppose you'd have no choice in the matter."

"What right have you to pry?" demanded Severus.

"If you even think of using that potion on her, if you even contemplate it, I swear to you, Snivellus, I will kill you."

All of a sudden, the sheer irrationality of the situation hit Severus. Had he been anyone but himself, he might have started laughing. Instead, he merely looked Black directly in the eyes and said, "I don't see how it's any of your business one way or the other. Anyone would think you were jealous."

"Oh, that's rich!" Unlike Severus, Black did laugh, a hollow, rattling sound. "Me? Jealous of you? You do enjoy living in fantasy, don't you, Snivelly?"

"And how are you any better? Gryffindor courage, indeed!" Severus managed to scramble to his feet, steadying himself against the wall. "That's why you're standing there with two wands, threatening me when I have nothing to defend myself. How brave, how gallant of you."

"Don't you--" The wand was raised again, his hand was shaking.

"Oh, don't I what?" He felt himself smiling, felt the urge to provoke growing despite the call of better judgement. "I'm not one of your bloody house-elves, Black. In fact, I'd probably do your family greater honour than you would, seeing as you wouldn't recognise the concept if it hit you."

"As if a Snape has anything to say on that subject," Black snapped. "Look at you! You're a disgrace to the title of wizard."

"So speaks the disowned one," Severus observed acidly. "Can't see how you're capable of lording it over a Slytherin when you're the one who isn't fighting fair." Black hit him with a Stinging Hex, sending him sprawling, his head slamming against the wall.

"I'm a Gryffindor, Snivelly. Not an idiot."

For several seconds, the room flickered in and out of focus, black flowers threatening at the corner of his vision. Finally, he rasped out, "Just as I thought. Bloody coward. Bloody sodding Gryffindor coward. You and Potter and Lupin and all the rest. Especially him--"

"Leave Lupin out of this."

"Protective, aren't we?" Severus smiled yet wider, the expression bordering on a grimace. "Why do I think I just hit a nerve?"

"As if you have any idea what you're talking about." Black pointed both wands at him, one in either hand. "I'm warning you--"

"Of what? You'll just hex me in the end; you don't know any better. Or do you need Potter here to do it for you?" He threw his arms wide. "I can't get more unarmed than this. Or should I paint a target on my back for the full effect?"

Black hesitated. In that moment, Severus lunged forward and snatched his wand back. Throwing Impedimenta over his shoulder, he ran for the door. But Black was too quick, ducking the hex and hitting Severus in the middle of his back with Petrificus Totalus. Severus teetered on his feet before falling hard against one of the stools, and crashing to the ground. The back of his head stung fiercely and was at least bruised if not possibly bleeding. Of course, he couldn't see for himself. Black's footsteps came closer and he leaned forward once again, plucking the wand from Severus' frozen fingers before standing over him, smiling triumphantly.

"Nice try, Snivelly. Finite Incantatem." As Severus' body relaxed, he added with a barking laugh, "And I didn't even need a target. But thanks for the offer."

Severus managed to hide his wince as he raised his hand to the back of his head. His fingers came away bloody. "You bastard."

"My mother wouldn't take kindly to that sort of aspersion. But then again, I'm sure you'd prefer your father were anyone else." He stepped back just in time to avoid the kick Severus aimed at his shins. "Oh, was that a nerve, Snivelly?"

"Stop. Calling. Me. That."

"Hmm..." Black held out the syllable for a second or two, "how about I don't? What do you think to do about it?"

"I'll tell everyone about yours and Lupin's excursions each month," Severus spat without thinking twice.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how he vanishes every month. An illness, an illness in the family...I'm not an idiot, Black."

"Funny how you do a flawless impression of one."

Severus ignored the insult. "You won't believe the things people say about you, Black. Even your cousin--" he broke off, realising his antagonist had gone forbiddingly still, fingers curling even tighter around both wands. "Even your cousin had some very interesting comments on the subject."

"Oh, did she?" he asked, his voice high and taut, seeming on the verge of snapping. "And what did sweet Bella have to say?"

Severus blinked. He had meant Narcissa Malfoy, had smothered the minor cry of conscience for putting his own words in her mouth. He'd barely exchanged two words with Bellatrix Lestrange. But this was interesting---

"You're lying." Black laughed shortly as he stepped back. "I can't imagine they'd give you the time of day. You don't know a damned thing about Lupin or about me. And while we're on the subject of what you don't know--"

"What, that lovely scene you made last summer defending him? Oh, I heard about that. And about all sorts of other things," Severus retorted, slowly pulling himself upright as best he could. "What would your sweet Bella have to say about your being a bloody fairy?"

Black just stared at him. He did look genuinely shocked at the accusation, Severus noted with some puzzlement, but then again he'd always known Black to be an impressive actor.

"It doesn't surprise me that your family disowned you for it. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black couldn't possibly abide that sort of blood traitor. Not once but twice over. A pity they didn't kill you and finish the job." He felt the smile rise unbidden at the sudden pallor sweeping across the other's face. "Maybe I ought to mix one of these up for you. At least Evans has some backbone. More than that mangy Mudblood cur."

What little colour left in Sirius Black's face drained away. "Mangy, is he?" he asked, his voice barely audible against the adrenaline pounding blood in Severus' ears. "Why don't you see for yourself, Snivelly? Why don't you stop sneaking and actually see?"

His hand was still shaking as he threw Severus' wand across the room. It slammed into the wall with a painful crack.

"There's a knot on the Whomping Willow. You can reach it with a branch before the tree gets you. I dare you, Snivelly, and I'll be watching. We'll see how brave you are."

He held Severus' gaze for several more seconds before stalking from the room.