The Teacher

Tea

Severus had made up his mind. Tonight he would pay Lupin a visit. It had taken him a while to make that decision, walking back and forth between the fireplace and the door in his rooms, in the cold dungeon, weighing arguments against each other. The werewolf seemed to be reliable in terms of approaching Severus after a while, but then again, what if he thought Severus had lost interest? Or what if he lost interest in Severus if he didn't show some more initiative? Apart from that another day had passed in which they hadn't been able to talk and Severus was growing more and more impatient. In the end, his longing for the werewolf's warmth had won over his many concerns and now he was standing in Hogsmeade's best tea shop, in front of a large shelf, indecisive which brand he should buy.

"Ah, Professor Snape!" said a croaking voice behind him and he turned to see Mr Leaf, the shop owner, a little old man with grizzly grey hair, tiny eyes and a monocle, standing before him with a wide smile, rubbing his hands as if expecting Severus to spend a fortune on tea. "I haven't seen you in a while. Can I help you?"

Severus turned to the shelf again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes," he said slowly, deciding that he would never be able to choose the best one from the many types.

"Not your usual tea then? Will you try something new?" the shop owner asked and stepped closer to the shelf, peering up at Severus.

"It is a..." Severus hesitated before continuing, "a gift. I am going to visit someone and I don't want to arrive with empty hands." He took a bag of tea out of the shelf and looked at it but put it back again. The shop owner nodded thoughtfully.

"Well then, do you know your friend's preferences?" he asked and Severus scowled at him at the word 'friend'. Lupin's preferences? If he knew those it would make everything easier, not only concerning the choice of tea.

"Well, he likes his tea sweet and mild, I guess," he said remembering the taste of the teabags and the many cubes of sugar the werewolf had put into his cup. "But I think he prefers aromatic herbs or tea leaves over bitter types like earl grey, black tea in general or trivial ones like fruit tea. He seems to me like the type who enjoys his tea and drinks it slowly." Severus thought about Lupin's cup always being half full when his own was already empty and he was about to leave. "It can be expensive, the price doesn't matter, only the quality," he added, thinking of the dusty tin of teabags.

"Hum..." said the other man and with a swish of his wand he opened four drawers and let them hover over to Severus. He could see the tea leaves and herbs in them and smell their intense scent, they seemed very fresh, and very expensive.

"You have a trained nose, Professor, so have a smell," said the shop owner and with another wave of his wand he directed one of the drawers into Severus's hands. "Darjeeling, the champagne among teas. It's the Autumn Flush. Aromatic and spicy, yet delicate, and very fresh, too, just harvested."

Severus held the drawer up to his nose and let the scent invade him, closing his eyes. The muscatel smell was fresh and intense. "It can be drunk with sugar, but then you need to let it boil a little longer," Leaf added and Severus let go of the drawer to let it hover back to the others.

"Longjing, a Chinese tea, is gentle and sweet, as is the Japanese Gyokuro, a very delicate high quality tea," the shop owner continued, showing both drawers to the Potions master. "Then there is white tea, Silver Needle, the mildest of tea types with a light and sweet flavour, it has less caffeine than other tea types. It is good for your health, too. All of them are of the finest quality of course!" Severus looked into the drawer at the whitish leaves. Silver Needle. He raised his eyebrows. It was so fitting. But he was indecisive. They all fit. He decided to take the Darjeeling for its intense taste and the white tea for its sweet one. Severus took out the bag in which he kept his gold and said, "I take some of the Darjeeling and the - you called it Silver Needle?"

The shop owner grinned happily, rubbing his hands once again (the man could really try and hide his greed for profit!), waving his wand at the drawers so that the two he didn't need any more flew back to their places and the others hovered after him into the backroom. "Just a moment, please," he called and Severus made his way to the counter at the entrance. When the old man came back with two golden tins, putting them in a bag and taking the gold from Severus, he told him that he had put a card with instructions for the tea's preparation into each tin, wishing him "a nice day, Professor", when Severus exited the shop.

Severus glanced into the bag. The first step was taken, now he only had to walk up the stairs to Lupin's office in the evening, knock on his door and give him the tea. That would already start a conversation, no doubt! No reason to get nervous about it. It was just a normal meeting for a cup of tea. One like those he'd had with Albus a million times before. Just that this time he was bringing a gift, and his company wasn't his old, white-bearded, eye-twinkling, unnerving boss. It was Remus Lupin, handsome and tempting. And many other things.

He was so lost in thought, trying to stop his stomach from feeling so annoyingly fuzzy, that he ran straight into Minerva McGonagall, almost knocking her over. "Severus!" she cried, straightening her hat. He slipped the tea into his robes and nodded at her with a look that he knew she would recognise as apologetic. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping ingredients," he said curtly.

"Ah, I see," she muttered with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. "Well, then I'll see you in the castle." She turned and walked off into the direction of Honeydukes and Severus felt for the tea in his pocket.

While he was walking back up the street towards the castle, he passed the Dementors who were gliding along the tall gates which led into the grounds. He hated passing them. It was pure torture. He felt dreadful every time he got close to them, even more dreadful than he usually felt. Full of guilt, disappointment, bitterness, fear and despair, he had to force himself to keep going, step by step, instead of crawling under the next best bush, hugging himself, freezing, waiting for death's black darkness to finally engulf him. What was it really worth, this miserable, lonely life of his? Just keep setting one foot before the other, Snape!, he thought, squinting up at the castle, the sunlight blinding him.

Those rotten creatures were mocking him, feasting by the dozens on his tiny amount of happiness, greedily ripping it into pieces, taking even those few good memories from him that he had locked away safely. He didn't have many of them, so he kept the key hidden; but they just broke the lock and yanked the happiness from his weak hands. In Azkaban he wouldn't last very long, he was sure. He would wither away in days, being shown his father's furious beating, his tormentors' merciless bullying, his very own unforgivably evil acts over and over again.

When he made his way up the path into the grounds his feet grew heavier and heavier, his mind darker and darker, and laughter appeared in his head growing louder, until he could barely find the will to stand anymore, he felt so empty. He should have flooed. Should have asked Hagrid for a carriage. Should have done something to avoid passing those terrible demons, sucking the life out of him. Why had he been at Hogsmeade at all? What was the reason for going back to the castle, where he'd be alone again, where nobody liked him and he hated everyone, where everybody laughed at him? Why not just fall to the ground here and forget everything?

His body kept walking on its own accord, his mind drifting through the darkness the Dementors left in him, his eyes wandering aimlessly over the grounds, up the castle's walls and over the many windows until... He stopped walking when he caught sight of a window a few floors above the gates to the Entrance Hall, his hand wandering into his robes, touching the tins he had just bought. That was the reason. That was why he was going back. He marched on, finally, finally leaving the Dementors behind, shaking off their cold grip on his mind, regaining his strength. He wouldn't collapse on the grass, not in front of his window! And after all, Severus still had to bring the werewolf his tea. That was something he could look forward to. When he left the cold behind him, staring up to the other wizard's window, he was almost sure that he had seen the gleam of his golden eyes behind the glass.

When he arrived in the dungeons he pulled the bag with tea out of his robes and set the two tins down onto the table. He would keep the Darjeeling in his own rooms, just in case the werewolf visited him. Should he put a ribbon on the other ti- No!, he thought firmly. He was not yet that demented. He would certainly not put a ribbon on the bloody tin! Nothing doing! Severus had already exceeded his own expectations by even buying a gift. It would be simply humiliating if he made it so ridiculously obvious that it was meant as a gift.

He was distracted during the double Potions lesson with the fifth year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, paying no attention to the students' cauldrons, which was possibly the reason why one melted, burning a black hole into the table in the third row. Severus took twenty points from Hufflepuff for it quite gleefully. He was in a rather good mood, thinking he might meet Lupin at dinner and ask him if he had time for a cup of tea. But again the werewolf was not there and Severus wondered if he could handle the work at all. But then again he was interested how the look of - hopefully pleasant - surprise would suit him.

Directly after dinner Severus made his way up the stairs to Lupin's office, his hand clutching the golden tin in his pocket. When he arrived at the door, he glanced around him to make sure that nobody was watching, then he knocked three times, as usual.

"Come in, Severus," Lupin's hoarse voice called and Severus was taken aback for a second before he opened the door to the sight of the werewolf carrying a few boxes in his arms, smiling brightly, a faint flush on his cheeks. Severus stepped over the threshold, closing the door. Lupin put down the boxes on one of the shelves that were lining the walls. "It is nice that you visit me. I've missed dinner again, haven't I? So much work to do. I really have to get used to having a full timetable." He laughed softly.

Severus hesitated for a second, then he pulled the tea out of his pocket and held it out to Lupin. "I thought you might have use for it," he explained when Lupin's eyes widened in surprise, making him look like the boy he had used to be. It suited him well. The werewolf took the golden tin from Severus's hand, his smile widening.

"Thank you so much Severus. That wouldn't have been necessary," he said, taking off the lid and sniffing the contents.

"I know," Severus said and bit his tongue. He had again said something rude although he didn't mean it that way at all. But Lupin just chuckled, obviously recognising the true intention of those words and realising the depths of such a gesture.

"Oh, is that from Leaf's Leaves in Hogsmeade?" he asked and Severus nodded, amused by the sight of Lupin's eyes growing bigger and bigger. "But that must have cost you a fortune!" Severus waved his hand as if to wipe away the topic.

"I hope you enjoy it," he said and his stomach made a jolt when he saw Lupin's eyes shine with delight.

"Let's test it, shall we?" the Gryffindor said and beckoned Severus into his rooms, through the hidden door in the wall.

Lupin pointed to the sofa and Severus sat down, crossing his legs, glancing around the sitting room. Still, the walls were naked except for the Gryffindor flag and the book shelves, Lupin seemed to spend most of his time in his office, too. It seemed to Severus as if he didn't want to make himself at home. The werewolf produced two cups and a kettle out of nowhere, with the card of instructions in his hand, reading it carefully.

"I've never drunk white tea," he said cheerfully and tapped the kettle with his wand, making it whistle. "Could never afford it..." He smiled sheepishly at the spoon he ladled tea into the pot with. Severus felt satisfied somehow at the sight of Lupin's happy face. It had been a good idea, and a good choice.

Lupin handed him a steaming cup, sitting down opposite him on the threadbare armchair. They nipped on the tea at the same time and Severus ogled Lupin over the rim of his cup, tasting the sweet tea, almost too sweet for himself, but judging by the werewolf's closed eyes and the slight smile on his moist lips, it was just right for him. He leant back in the armchair, a relaxed expression on his face, his cheeks flushed slightly, and heaved a sigh, one that sent a pleasant shiver through Severus's body. "I've never before drunk such good tea..." he said and rolled the cup back and forth between his hands.

"At least it was worth its money," Severus muttered. "Glad you... enjoy it." Lupin looked at him with a slight frown.

"I do," he said softly and when Severus met his intent stare he thought he saw some deeper meaning to those two words. The werewolf took another sip from his cup, his amber eyes never leaving Severus's. "You passed the Dementors, didn't you?" he asked quietly and Severus looked out of the window at the gates where the rotten creatures lured.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"The only good thing is, that Dumbledore won't let them into the grounds... I can barely take their presence," the werewolf mumbled. "What about you Severus?"

The Potions master raised an eyebrow. "Yes, indeed," he said coolly. "Every time I pass them, I feel nothing but despair. I always think that probably I'll never find a reason to let Potter be expelled and I'll have to bear him for the next five years. Terrible prospect." Lupin raised an eyebrow at him in a half-hearted attempt of scolding him.

"I'm sure Harry has similar thoughts about you, my dear Severus. And as far as I've heard, not quite without good reason." The Potions master liked the sound of 'my dear' when referring to him.

"Many do," he replied indifferently.

"And you don't care?"

"No."

Lupin cocked his head to one side and his golden eyes bored into Severus's again. No, he didn't care. Actually. Well, not about the students anyway. He enjoyed being feared, respected. If the price was hatred, what of it? As long as Lupin didn't see his presence as a torture, everything was well. But that feeling he didn't want to miss anymore.

Suddenly another smile spread over Lupin's face and he turned away with a knowing look, keeping silent about whatever he had seen in the Potions master's black tunnels. Severus took a sip from his cup and let the sweet taste roll over his tongue slowly, watching Lupin take a sip of his own.

"So it's that bad?" he said in a very hoarse voice and cleared his throat. "When you pass them, I mean."

Severus stared for a moment, he really needed not say anything. Lupin always knew. Severus didn't answer, just took another sip of tea, staring at his black shoes.

"Another thing we share..." the werewolf mumbled and got up to look out of the window. "I guess we are close to understanding why Harry faints when they draw near. It is cruel to laugh about it." His right hand moved to his left side and he clutched it tightly, looking as if he were trying to tear it off. Severus narrowed his eyes. Maybe Lupin wouldn't show him the scar, but now he knew where to find it. The Potions master got up, emptying his cup and setting it down on the table. He walked over to position himself behind the werewolf, glancing over his shoulder at the iron gates.

"Do you remember that night at all?" he whispered and Lupin turned his head slightly.

"When the Dementors are close, I do. All of it. The shock, the fear, the pain, the feeling of almost dying. And then I wish I had died," the werewolf whispered in a shaky voice. "And I remember another night. Standing over their dead bodies. Hearing his laughter. Feeling as if my heart had been ripped from my chest." He stopped there and Severus heard him stifle a sob as he turned his face away. He lowered his head. Who was he to think that he was the only one suffering?

He felt a lump in his throat. And part of Lupin's woes had been his fault. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. There was a silence between them that was so full of unsaid words that it hurt Severus's ears. He wanted to break it, needed to break it. But what he wanted to say seemed unspeakable to him. And yet, he said it, his tongue loosened once again by the werewolf's presence.

"The guilt is almost unbearable," he said. "Those things I did while being a Death Eater... Always at the Dark Lord's service, always..." He hesitated. "I'm responsible for so many cruel acts. So many deaths..." He faltered. He couldn't say it after all, couldn't tell the werewolf the entire truth. He feared the consequences.

Lupin shook his head to silence him. He took the last sip from his cup and put it down on the windowsill, facing him. He didn't look angry or disgusted. He looked... pained.

"That is... terrible, Severus. I know that without your telling me. You needn't say any more. The guilt you feel shows that you regret it, that you know it was terrible, that you, unlike most Death Eaters, have a heart and a soul. We make mistakes in our lives whose consequences may haunt us for the rest of it, but I think to be able to overcome the bitterness, you must try and get over it. What you did was unforgivable. Yet I choose to forgive you. Can you forgive yourself?" he said quietly and Severus couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't forgive himself. He couldn't forgive anything. Why was Lupin so good at it? Severus didn't deserve it. And suddenly he wished he hadn't mentioned it. Had just let the silence stretch.

"I have made a mistake in the past, too, creating this distance between us, that will follow me forever," the werewolf continued and the Potions master appreciated the change of topic. Appreciated everything about the other's behaviour. Appreciated the way he knew.

"Maybe not... forever," he whispered, causing Lupin's eyes to shine a little. He stepped past him, sitting down in his armchair again, and patted the sofa to show Severus that he wanted him to sit down, too.

After he had complied, they stared at each other for a little while until Lupin said, "After the full moon you said... I didn't quite understand. You fear me, after all, don't you? You didn't want me here."

Severus didn't answer at first. It was true. He feared the werewolf, after having encountered it eighteen years before. But not the human. The human, he craved for. Trust was something completely different, though. He took a deep breath.

"Mistrust and fear are not the same. The danger of a savage beast cannot be denied, but that doesn't mean the human who suffers from it should be feared or mistrusted. Most people don't realise that being a werewolf doesn't make you an evil person." He paused before adding, "The reason I didn't want you here had nothing to do with your being a werewolf."

Lupin's eyes were wide, incredulous. "I told you, I don't believe you to be a Dark Creature. You carry one inside yourself, that is all. You deserve all the chances that I get and only use reluctantly and ungratefully most of the time. They should be yours, not mine," Severus said, meaning every word, surprised by his own sincerity. Now, he could give the werewolf something in return. Lupin's eyes never left his. He was sitting on the very edge of his armchair, his knees almost touching Severus's, his posture somewhat stiff, as if expectant.

"Why... why do you tell me that?" he asked in his hoarse voice and Severus knew exactly right what to answer.

"I say it," he said firmly, his black eyes holding the golden stare, "because I think that it is true. And I think that it was necessary you heard it."

The gold was swimming then and Severus was surprised at how often he had seen it like that. He was just wondering if that was good or bad, when something strange, something startling happened and his heart skipped a beat. For a split second the Potions master thought the werewolf had come closer, had leant in to -

But no... that must have been his imagination. Wishful thinking maybe. But Lupin averted his eyes, rubbing his neck with a sheepish grin and a furrowed brow, blushing slightly. Could it be? The thought made his heart pound faster. He had never really thought about anything like that, despite the feelings he had for Lupin, since he would never have thought that the other would want it. The werewolf's hand fidgeted a little as if he wanted to reach for Severus but didn't dare. He was still so close, almost, but not quite touching him. But Severus wanted him to touch him, wanted to feel his warm skin. He couldn't say it or do it himself, though, so he waited for the other to read it in his eyes, displaying the message in them as clearly as he could. But the golden orbs were directed at the floor, afraid possibly. And the moment was gone.

"Thank you, Severus. I thank you so much," Lupin said to the floor, sheepish grin still in place, a tear escaping through his eyelashes, dripping onto his knee. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"It's strange. We are affected by our bad fate, you said. Of you it made an amiable teacher, loved by all... of me, though..." Severus said, narrowing his eyes. He wanted the werewolf to look at him. And he succeeded.

"Amiable?" Lupin laughed, eyes void of tears again. "Well, thank you very much. But I think compared to you, even Minerva seems an amiable teacher." Yes, Severus thought, the moment was gone. If it had ever been there at all. His face darkened a little. As if Lupin wanted to - as if anyone did...

"I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't want to offend you..." Lupin said quietly, clasping his hands. Severus shook his head. "You're right. I don't have any illusions about my character. I don't have a problem with it."

The werewolf smiled a little and reached for the tin of tea. He looked at it for a long time. "I hope Harry doesn't go looking for Sirius," he muttered. "Is he really that much of a hero? I mean does he really always get into trouble because he wants to?"

Severus snorted. "He is ungrateful. Thinks he is a great wizard after two years of school. He would never come up with the idea that he causes himself and others more trouble by his heroic missions than by waiting for help. All the efforts we make to protect him are in vain, he doesn't appreciate them at all."

Lupin's eyes narrowed. "I am not exaggerating!" Severus added crossly.

The other smiled. "He doesn't seem like that to me..."

"Not yet..." Severus growled. "He is extraordinarily like his father."

The werewolf chuckled huskily and Severus wished he would never stop. The fireplace was empty but still it was warm beside Lupin. Severus looked at their knees, not even an inch apart. He wondered if he should move his leg just a little to the left as if accidentally, like he had done with his hand the other day. He would feel the other's warmth stream into himself. Should he dare?

He didn't. Because Lupin did it first. Severus wasn't sure if it had been intentional but he was glad he had done it. It was a short contact but its effect was enormous. Heat shot through Severus's body and at the same time he could barely conceal his shiver. It felt oddly intimate. Lupin moved his leg away, reaching for his wand on the table to set fire in the grate and the heat vanished from Severus's body at once, leaving his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

"Will you stay a little longer? I'll make another cup of that delicious tea," Lupin said, turning towards him with one of those sweet smiles.

And all Severus could answer was, "Why not." The tea had been a good idea.

After the sun had set and another half hour had been spent in pleasant silence Severus made his way down into the dungeons through the dark corridors, the Silver Needle still on his tongue, wondering how it might have been, how sweet it would have tasted if Lupin had... if they had kissed.