The Teacher

Yearning

Severus opened his eyes, squinting in the sunlight. It was Sunday and a look at the clock told him that he had slept much longer than usual. It was almost noon. He stretched his arms over his head and groaned. Such a sweet dream. Severus let his arms fall onto the mattress on either side of him, heaving a sigh. Such a sweet kiss. He shifted slightly and suddenly a throbbing pain shot through his leg and up his back into his head. He hissed and clutched his thigh, sitting up. His eyes widened and he stared at his leg. Not a dream then? It had been real? He still couldn't believe it.

The Potions master touched his lips and closed his eyes, remembering the sensation he had had when Remus had kissed him. He couldn't recall ever having felt that good. Goose bumps spread over his skin and Severus smiled slightly, throwing the covers from him and hopping out of bed. His leg stung, his head ached and his back hadn't got any better either but that couldn't influence his mood, the best mood in years, decades maybe. The bruises had been worth it!

He took a shower and strolled into the Great Hall which was almost empty except for a handful of students and two teachers, McGonagall and Lupin. He was really late for breakfast. When he approached his seat at the High Table, McGonagall waved at him.

"Severus, why don't you sit with us? It's nonsense to sit down over there," she said and after a little hesitation Severus complied.

Remus looked up from his scrambled eggs with a shy smile, apparently uncertain how to treat Severus after the kiss. "Good morning, Severus," he said cheerfully, though Severus heard the question in his voice. He nodded and met his eyes, sitting down next to McGonagall.

"We were wondering why you weren't at breakfast, Severus," McGonagall said and Severus saw Remus scratch his neck, staring at his food, in the corner of his eye.

"I overslept," Severus said curtly.

"Did you have an especially nice dream?" the witch asked with a wink at Remus who grinned sheepishly, a slight blush creeping into his pale cheeks, and Severus's mouth twitched. It hadn't been a dream, no, but it could easily have been the nicest he'd ever had.

"I hardly think my dreams are of your concern. I was patrolling last night."

"So was Remus," McGonagall said. Severus scowled at her, which was much harder while he wasn't in a grim mood.

"Well then, why don't we wonder why he was down so early?" he snapped to end the conversation.

"Did you meet last night?" the witch asked and Severus rolled his eyes.

"What gives you the idea?" Remus asked in a very innocent voice.

"You both limp somehow. I thought maybe you got into a fight and don't want to let Albus know..." she said and Severus snorted.

"If we had got into a fight one of us would be dead now," he said silkily.

"Probably me," Remus agreed, grinning.

"Probably," affirmed Severus and nodded. "You're too soft."

Remus chuckled pleasantly and finished his eggs. McGonagall stared from one to the other, a startled expression on her face. "You are scaring me," she said and made Remus laugh which again lifted Severus's mood.

"Well, I still have a lot of preparations to make for the next week," the werewolf said, getting up. "I wish you two a nice Sunday." With a wink at McGonagall and a sweet smile at Severus he left the Hall, indeed with a slight limp. The last night had obviously left its traces on both of them.

Severus wondered if he should pay the other a visit later in the day. He certainly wanted to. Another kiss of that quality would be pure bliss. The memory had already started to grow faint, his specific scent and his sweet taste, his body warmth seeping into Severus, his soft lips. Severus could still feel the tingling in his cheek where his lips had been but somehow it wasn't as clear as it had been when he had woken up. It was as if he were sensing it through a layer of fabric. He missed it already. And Remus seemed too busy for a visit. Severus himself had a lot of preparations to make for the next week, too, not having made them the day before, due to all the stress. He stabbed his egg with his fork, deeply in thought, when a hand appeared before his eyes, being waved up and down.

The Potions master snapped out of his thoughts and looked round at the Transfiguration Professor who smiled at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not used to seeing you absent-minded like this. That really must have been a nice dream," she said and got up, leaving him behind in the empty Hall. Yes. A blissful dream.

Severus's stomach felt fuzzier than ever and every time he thought about the night before a surge of some very pleasant but very strange emotion gripped his whole body, forcing him to smile. He shivered now and then when his mind drifted a few floors up to the werewolf. The Potions master had decided to visit him later but when minutes of work turned into hours and one o'clock turned into seven he was still not done with his preparations and the brewing of several potions which needed surveillance. His mood dropped gradually and after the sun had set and neither he nor Remus had visited each other Severus cleaned up his lab and retired to his rooms, worn and depressed.

The memory of the kiss had become even fainter and Severus wished for just one smell of the other's skin, one tiny little touch of his hand or one brush of his lips against his cheek, which would bring it back to him in vivid clarity. But no werewolf was to be seen and Severus doubted that he would show up so late in the evening, so he let himself fall onto his sofa with his obligatory glass of wine and, with a last try of resistance, gave in to the longing that presented him with pleasant memories of the feelings which the werewolf had let him experience. He didn't even notice when he drifted off to sleep since his dreams were very similar to his thoughts.

But those dreams remained the only pleasure he could indulge in for the next days since the week turned out to be very busy indeed. The infirmary demanded a list of all kinds of complicated and time intensive potions and pastes, the homework he had given his courses in every class had turned out so catastrophic that the Potions master was close to despair and to top it all off Severus's new so called Potions-N.E.W.T course had disappointed his expectations in their essays on the exact preparation, use and antidotes of Veritaserum and their brewing skills were less than satisfactory. So the Potions master had to scold them thoroughly, scaring them by saying that he'd throw three quarters of them out of his course if they didn't improve considerably, giving them another work-intensive essay on the love potion Armortentia and making them brew it under great time pressure. Only two of them were acceptable. But when their fumes filled the air and reached Severus's nose he was back in the hidden staircase again, as close to Remus as possible, breathing in his scent, chocolate, tea, licorice. He would almost have moaned, closing his eyes to the scent, hadn't the bell rung, bringing him back to the desolate reality of the lonely dungeon, full of the fumes of failed potions.

Severus's desire to talk to the werewolf grew steadily and it was agonising to see him at meals and to pass him in the corridors where he only received smiles which made his longing even worse. The staffroom was pure torture with Remus being so close with no opportunity to speak to him in private. On Wednesday when Severus was seated in the armchair by the fireplace, Remus bustled in, his hands full of papers he apparently had to grade and when he approached Severus and caught his eye he dropped them all, stumbling. The Slytherin shook his head at him with a smirk and waved his wand to sweep up the papers and place them onto the table in a neat stack.

"Clumsy, as ever, Lupin," he said sneering, leaning back in his armchair. He liked to imagine that he was the reason for the clumsiness of the usually deft and concentrated werewolf.

"Thank you, Severus," the werewolf panted and sat down on one of the old chairs at the table. "So much stress. I forgot to grade those. Or rather I nodded off over them." He chuckled huskily and Severus shivered again, closing his eyes.

"By the way. Up to now my clumsiness has never failed me," Remus whispered only for Severus to hear and the Potions master stared at his back, feeling the mischievous smile on the other's face. He didn't answer, though, just stared, remembering that yes indeed, the werewolf had felt soft and warm, not quite so fragile, but delicate, when he had been pressed up against him. Severus shook his head scolding himself for the one hundredth time since Saturday for the pathetically sappy thoughts he had. He obviously spent too much time with romantic dunderheads like Albus, McGonagall or, well, Remus. Luckily he had only dropped his papers and not fallen onto Severus, that would have ended in a scene that would have been difficult to explain to the other staff.

McGonagall entered the room to sit down beside Remus with a sigh, loosening her collar and complaining about the heat. To Severus it couldn't be warm enough; he shifted his hand as far to the right as he could without anyone noticing to feel the werewolf's warmth. He had grown addicted to the other much too fast.

The scratching of Remus's quill on the parchment was soothing and Severus closed his eyes to the sound, trying to relax so much that the memories would leave his mind in peace for a while. But suddenly the scratching stopped and Remus cleared his throat.

"Minerva..." he said quietly and the witch turned to him. "I always wanted to know how the animal an Animagus transforms into is chosen."

Severus turned his head to catch McGonagall's answer. "It isn't chosen. The witch or wizard turns into the animal which characterises them best. For example, a dog stands for loyalty, a lion for bravery and so on."

Remus stared at her for a few moments, his expression unfathomable, then he turned back to his papers slowly and Severus thought he saw him shake his head. Somehow he seemed very interested in Animagi...

When the bell rang to announce the start of the next lesson the werewolf gathered up his papers again and left, lost in thought and graceful as ever. Severus's eyes were glued to him and he sighed in frustration when the door closed behind him. He couldn't bear the forced silence between them.

But the silence stretched and as the days passed his mood dropped to a level which let his nastiness grow to an extent that made him unbearable to everyone around him. It was as if the werewolf were teasing him, passing him in every possible corridor, never meeting him alone, always with one of those sweet smiles on his face. Severus felt himself missing those immediately after he had lost sight of Remus and he was so distracted when working that he made countless mistakes and had to start a potion over and over again, cursing furiously; that made him so angry that he strode through the castle only to find someone to give a detention to or take points from.

Just after Severus had made two Gryffindor first year girls run from him screaming on Saturday afternoon, after a long week had passed without Remus's lips on him, he turned in a swirl of robes to face an amused werewolf, leaning against the stone wall, arms folded. Severus's breath hitched and he took a step backwards. That made the other chuckle huskily and Severus had to stop himself from moaning once again.

"Poor things. I'm glad that I wasn't eleven when you became a teacher," Remus said, pushing himself off the wall with his elbow. "I hope I'm not the reason for your bad mood?"

Severus swallowed. "Not directly," he replied. Remus stepped closer with a frown.

"I am sorry that we didn't find the time to talk all week," he said quietly and put his hands into the pockets of his patched robes, shaking his hair out of his golden eyes. Severus lowered his head slightly, then he nodded. "Do we have to talk?" the werewolf asked with another sheepish smile.

Severus looked at him for a long moment, taking in the slightly blushed cheeks and the apprehensive ambers. "I don't know," he said quietly, but he knew that that was a lie so he corrected himself, "Yes... I think we do. But -" he hesitated, pressing one hand against the cold stone wall to cool himself down before continuing, "- but not here."

Remus nodded glancing around him to check if anyone was watching. "Maybe you could come to my rooms tonight?" he asked, apparently feeling more sure of himself in his own surroundings than in Severus's. "I'll make us a cup of tea."

Severus gave him a curt nod and got a beam in return, accompanied by a step into his direction and the movement of an arm which looked just like the one in the Saturday night one week before when they had parted, and Severus's heart raced in anticipation of the other's touch. But suddenly they heard voices from round the corner and Remus stepped back again whipping his head around only to turn back to Severus with an apologetic smile. Severus's disappointment must have been displayed in his eyes.

"So... I'll see you after dinner?" the werewolf asked softly, his hoarse voice giving away his impatience. Severus nodded again, meeting his eye, cursing the people the voices belonged to. Remus smiled warmly at him and held out his hand like he had on the day of their fight. Severus stared at it for a second before he took his own hand off the wall and seized it, hungering for every touch he could get, no matter how tiny, never wanting to let it go again. Remus's hand was hot against Severus's icy skin and with his firm grip, the werewolf seemed to tell him that he didn't want to let go either. But he did and Severus swept past him into the direction of the voices, ready to give detention for too loud walking.

At dinner Remus wasn't present. Again. Severus finished his potatoes and chicken quickly and left the Great Hall very early which ensured that no one would notice his visit to the werewolf's rooms. Already when he entered the corridor Remus's office was situated in he could smell the white tea. The door was open and the other's hoarse voice hummed some song when Severus entered. He found the Gryffindor in his sitting room, a paper in his hands.

"Good evening, Severus," he said, stopping his humming and turning round with a warm smile. "Have a seat."

Severus came closer, but he didn't sit down, instead he took the paper from the werewolf and read the headline on the front page above the loathed face whose state of withered madness satisfied him immensely. 'Escaped mass-murderer Sirius Black sighted again'. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes wandered to Remus's upset ambers. He laid the paper down on the small table before the fireplace, eyes never leaving Remus's and said, "Don't worry about him..." he spat the last word, disgusted by the mere thought of Black occupying the werewolf's mind. "He has no chance of getting into the castle."

Remus shook his head but his eyes stayed upset and he folded his arms tightly over his chest. "I don't know... I just..." he said, turning away from Severus to sit down in his armchair. The Potions master sat down opposite of him on the sofa, bringing their knees as close together as they had been the last time he had sat there. "I think people underestimate him."

Severus scowled. Extraordinary Sirius bloody Black. He didn't want the werewolf to talk about him like that. Though he knew of course that it wasn't meant as a compliment. Remus handed him a cup of steaming tea and he took it, warming his hands on the hot porcelain. Again the warmth he actually wanted was right there before him and again he couldn't grasp it. He wished the other would notice his longing and touch him again. They sipped on their tea at the same time like a week before and Severus imagined how he would taste if they kissed right now, meeting the golden eyes.

Severus set his cup down on the table and glanced through the sitting room, trying to find a topic to get away from Black. His eyes drifted over the naked stone walls and the tables and shelves void of photos. "You don't seem to make yourself at home," he muttered and Remus followed his gaze.

"Oh well, I... it's silly, but I think as long as I'm prepared to leave I won't have to," he replied with a slight chuckle in his hoarse voice. Severus raised an eyebrow skeptically and the other continued, "You see... I don't want to unpack and get used to this only to be forced to pack again and leave it behind. I see it as a miracle every day I wake up in that bed and have tea with you in this room. A gift. I don't want to take it for granted. Well, I guess it really is silly, but I think it would be bad luck to make myself at home."

"Superstitious as ever. I wouldn't be so pessimistic," Severus said. "Dumbledore won't sack you."

Remus smiled sadly and sipped on his tea again, moving his leg to the right, so that it touched Severus's for one second or two. A surge of warm pleasure ran through the Slytherin's body and he closed his eyes for a moment.

"How's your leg?" Remus mumbled into his tea and Severus's hand gripped his thigh, a painful reminder of their nocturnal meeting.

"It is alright," he replied coolly, trying not to show a weakness. "I can still feel it though. My back, too."

"Why didn't you visit Madam Pomfrey?" the werewolf asked, raising his eyebrows. Severus hesitated. Well, yes, why hadn't he?

"I... don't know," he answered, thinking that actually he had forgotten it on purpose because it was a constant stimulator of his memories. Remus smiled.

"I let her see my ankle. It had swollen over night and it hurt a lot. Not being able to walk properly is dangerous when you are a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Or a teacher in general if Fred and George Weasley are your students," he explained, grinning, and after a pause he added, "But at least it was a proof that the night before had really taken place... otherwise I would have thought that I had dreamt a fantastic dream."

Severus swallowed and nodded, agreeing with his every word. He shivered when the other's knee touched his again, only a moment, as if by accident. The werewolf's eyes were boring into him and he had to look away when their knees touched once again, this time for several moments and then again, and then Remus didn't remove his knee anymore, keeping it in place, apparently reassured by the Potions master's earlier reactions. Severus's heart was racing and he heard the blood rushing in his ears. Incredible that such a small touch should excite him so much. But it was the intimacy in it which did the trick. He just wasn't used to intimacy.

"Shall we talk about it, Severus?" Remus said in the mildest of voices and Severus glanced at him.

"I wouldn't know what to say," he answered truthfully.

Remus shrugged. "You needn't really say anything, you know?" he grinned and rested his elbows on his legs, his right hand so very close to Severus's knee. "But I'm not sure if we can just let it be what it is without agreeing on what it is exactly." He ran a hand through his hair and down his neck, that beautifully pale neck. Again, Severus swallowed.

"What do you mean?" he said weakly, slapping himself for it in his mind. Remus cocked his head to one side and gave him an amused look.

"I must admit, I enjoy the effect I have on you," he said and chuckled huskily, proving his point by making Severus shiver. The Potions master scowled and Remus quickly continued, "What I meant was, um, what do you think of it? How would you describe it?"

Severus met his eyes, thinking about what to say. He knew what he thought of course. He thought that they should repeat it as often as possible. He would describe it as a necessity for him to survive. He thought that soon the other's knee against his would drive him crazy. He cleared his throat.

"I cannot say," he replied, because he really couldn't. He couldn't lay his soul out in front of the other. Though he wouldn't mind Remus looking at it by force. It was as if his tongue were shackled.

Remus's eyes narrowed and his brow creased when he let his eyes wander over Severus's black form. Suddenly he reached for Severus's arm and laid his hand onto his wrist, staring into his surprised eyes. "You see, I've never lived up to my Gryffindor traits quite like I did in the last weeks," he whispered, got up and sat down again beside Severus on the sofa, taking a gulp of his tea. Severus looked at him, turning a little to face him. "I only need to know one thing: Would you like to repeat it?" the werewolf asked looking at him, searching his eyes for the answer. Severus inclined his head, holding his gaze but keeping quiet.

Remus raised his hand and laid it onto Severus's shoulder, his eyes imploring him to say or do something, apparently not wanting to go any further without his consent. So, Severus took a deep breath and whispered, "I think you already know the answer," he hesitated before addressing him, "Remus."

The werewolf inched closer, beaming at Severus, obviously delighted that he had used his given name and it touched Severus in a strangely sentimental way. The delicate hand on his shoulder slid up his neck, sending a tingle over his skin, long, delicate fingers burying themselves in his black hair, making his breath quicken. The werewolf laid his other hand on Severus's chest and leant in, licking his lips. Severus could barely wait for him to close the gap, finally, finally he would feel him again after all the interruptions; he lifted his hand to touch the other's arm when -

"Remus?" called someone from inside the werewolf's office, making them both flinch and driving them apart. "Are you there? I wanted to ask you for a cup of tea." It was Albus.

"Merlin's beard!" Severus hissed angrily, frustration spreading through his stomach. His skin burnt where Remus touched it, hand still on his neck and he wished he were a more powerful wizard so he could hex Dumbledore into oblivion. Remus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together.

"He visits in the most indecent moments," he then said quietly with an extremely rueful look at Severus who scowled with a nod. The werewolf drained his cup of tea and pushed himself off the sofa, putting one hand onto Severus's leg as if it were the most natural touch in the world. A tingling shiver shot through the Slytherin's body at the contact.

"I'm here, Headmaster," he called, walking into his office, probably trying to keep Albus out of his rooms. But Severus knew the old man better than that. It was too much of a coincidence that he turned up right now. The Potions master took his cup and drank the remaining tea, imagining that the warmth in his mouth was Remus's. He heard the muffled voices from the office, set his cup down, taking out his wand, and with a wave of it he vanished the porcelain and the teakettle. He wouldn't wait for his eye-twinkling boss to find him in the werewolf's rooms and bombard him with countless disgustingly smug questions.

Trying to calm his heart down, the Slytherin walked over to the fireplace, took some Floo powder from a small tin on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the grate.

Just when Remus led Albus into the sitting room reluctantly, telling him that he was afraid that he could only offer teabags, Severus disappeared in a flare of green flames. He would have to bear the yearning for a while longer.