The Teacher

Additions to Disclaimer: The dialogues taken from PoA belong to JKR. I only borrowed them.

Loss

Remus,

I will start brewing the Wolfsbane tomorrow and still need to check your weight again. Tell it to me before tomorrow at 10.

S. S.

Severus wrote the message on a small piece of parchment and slipped it into the stack of the werewolf's teaching material which lay on the table in the staffroom, obviously having been left there for quick access between classes. It was Monday and since he had left on Saturday without any further comment, the werewolf hadn't talked to him or even looked at him anymore, usually he bustled past him, stress clearly written on his face, his eyes averted or his nose in some book. Severus wondered if he had made him angry by disappearing but he didn't have the time to pay him a visit in his quarters and they had never met alone anywhere else on Sunday either.

Writing a letter was much easier and at least nobody could interrupt anything which only existed on paper. Another moment of such intimacy which was interrupted would definitely make Severus go crazy. When he left the staff room for the next lesson, Remus entered it and they collided, making the werewolf stumble backwards. He apologised and looked up at Severus. He really looked much healthier, not as skinny as he used to be, probably the configuration of the potion wasn't only possible but necessary. When their eyes met the werewolf nodded at him, without smiling though, and entered the staff room. Actually, Severus thought, the configuration is just an excuse to justify communication.

The Potions master spent the lesson with the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fourth years gliding through the rows and looming over one cauldron or another like every lesson, but his mind was distracted. His stomach churned at the mere thought of the werewolf's stern face and he feared that he had lost interest. Probably he would always think so, no matter what he said or did since most of the time he felt as if he behaved like a complete prick talking to the other. It wasn't a pleasant feeling not to know whether he'd ever be close to the werewolf again, in every possible way. He was cold all the time although it was still rather warm outside, it was the lack of Remus's presence. It was a real addiction. He shook his head to himself, scaring the Gryffindor seated in front of the cauldron he was staring into to death, making him leaf through his instruction papers to search for his mistake, though he hadn't even made one. Severus was shaking his head at himself. The werewolf wasn't good for him.

Suddenly the cauldron beside the one Severus was looking into started smoking and making screeching noises and before Severus could react it had exploded, leaving the Potions master and the students around it with stinking yellow slime on their clothes. With a glare Severus vanished the mess and took twenty points from Gryffindor, giving the shaking boy who the cauldron had belonged to a detention. No, he thought, he's not good for me.

After he had dismissed the class into the break and everyone had cleared out Severus made his way to his lab to look after a potion which had been simmering the whole morning. When he bent over the potion he was shocked to see that it was green instead of purple. He whirled round to look at the ingredients he had used, he was sure that he had added the powdered horn of a unicorn at the proper moment and in the proper amount, so why had the potion turned -

He stopped dead when he saw the phial with the powder he had used, taking it into his hand and holding it before his eyes. Bicorn. He had used the powdered horn of a bicorn. Breathing deeply and regularly to calm himself down he put the phial back into the cupboard and vanished the useless potion from the cauldron with a wave of his wand. He couldn't believe that he had made such a grave mistake. Now he would need to start the potion over again. He was sure he must have been thinking about the werewolf while brewing since he almost always thought about him lately and therefore he must have been so distracted that he had reached for the wrong powder and spoilt his potion.

Severus took the handle of the cauldron to lift it off the fire but very suddenly flaming fury rolled up inside of him and he hurled the cauldron across the dungeon with all the strength he could muster, and it crashed into the wall with a deafening metallic clang. The stone splintered slightly where it had been hit and the cauldron fell to the floor, a long crack in its side. Severus steadied himself on the table and took a couple of deep, ragged breaths, pushing down the anger. No, the werewolf was definitely not good for him.

The Potions master didn't feel up to brewing the potion once more right now so he left his laboratory and headed for his classroom to wait there for his sixth year N.E.W.T-course until the break was over. He had been walking up and down between the blackboard and the door for five minutes, trying to think of nothing (he failed), when he heard a knock on the door and stared at it. The bell hadn't rung yet, had it?

"Yes?" he said warily and the door opened. In came Remus. Severus raised an eyebrow, growing nervous somehow. "What is it?" he said coolly and the werewolf walked towards him, holding up the slip of parchment Severus had left with his things.

"You wrote that you wanted to know my weight, so I thought I'd tell it to you personally," he said, coming to a halt a foot away from Severus. Actually he had hoped for a written answer. Paper was easier to handle than werewolves were.

"That wouldn't have been necessary," he said, again rather coolly.

"I know," Remus replied and after a moment's silence in which Severus couldn't meet his eye he added, "It's sixty-three."

Severus nodded, fixing his eyes on one of the patches on Remus's sleeve. The other was so... strange, so different somehow. Severus didn't know what to say, but Remus didn't leave, just stood there, watching him, boring his eyes into him.

"Severus," he said quietly and before the Potions master had even looked up, he had taken two long strides forward and thrown his arms round Severus's neck, making him stagger backwards. Severus's eyes widened and he forgot to breathe, his heart racing as if he had run a thousand miles, a violent flush rising in his white face. Heat was overwhelming him. Remus's body was pressed up against his, the werewolf's arms bringing them tightly together and Severus could feel the other's heart beat over his own, just as quick. He didn't know what to do. How should he behave in such a situation? He was so nervous that his brain hardly even worked and he hated being helpless. Why couldn't the werewolf just say something. Anything. It was as if Severus were frozen to the spot, unable to move. It had been quite some time since he had been hugged. Embraced.

When Remus shifted his head so his lips were touching his ear Severus shivered. "Severus... I," he whispered and pressed his soft lips against Severus's cheek, making it flame and Severus's arms laid themselves around the werewolf's body, moving on their own accord, squeezing him. When the bell rang and voices filled the Entrance Hall above them, Remus let go, bringing a little distance between them, though he left his arms resting on Severus's shoulders, gazing up into his cold black eyes.

"I didn't want to wait another week. Not even another day," he whispered and Severus was sure that his knees had turned to pudding. "Don't always torture me like that, Severus." And with that he leant in again, brushing his lips against Severus's, making him shiver with pleasure and relief. Finally. The warm tenderness made him light in the head and he threaded his fingers through Remus's honey hair, breathing in his wonderful fragrance. But after only a few short seconds, the werewolf pulled back and took his warmth with him once more, stepping away from Severus.

"Will you bring me the Potion tomorrow?" he asked softly, when the voices drew nearer and Severus nodded, smoothing out his robes. "Alright. I'll be expecting you." Remus touched the Potions master's cheek in a short caress, giving him the sweetest smile yet, and left, humming to himself. Severus looked after him for a moment and ran his hands through his hair, hoping that he didn't look too disheveled. Then he walked over to the door, where the voices were buzzing loudly and with a last deep breath he opened the door to let the students in.

When he waved his wand to write the instructions for the potion he would let them brew onto the board, his hand shook considerably and he needed to sit down to prevent his knees from giving way. No, the werewolf wasn't good for him. But he didn't care.

Over the next week Severus brought Remus one goblet of Wolfsbane Potion per day every afternoon, before lunch. On Tuesday he walked up to his office and was greeted with a broad smile and thanked with a shy kiss on his cheek, which he only reacted to with a nervous nod, before he left again. It left him feeling hot and weak in the knees and he had to lean against the wall for a moment, telling himself how pathetic he was, before he made his way down into the dungeons again. On Wednesday and Thursday he brought the goblet with him to the staff room on Remus's request due to the grading he had to do and the shorter way to lunch. He only got a sweet smile then and soon he missed his touch again.

When Friday arrived, Severus brought the potion to Remus's office again hoping for some more intimacy, longing for it. He was a little disappointed when he saw how busy the werewolf was, sitting at his desk, surrounded by countless rolls of parchment, barely looking up when he wished Severus a "good afternoon". Severus waited until the other had drained the goblet and turned to leave again but was caught by the hand. He turned his head and met Remus's golden eyes. "I'm sorry, Severus," he said. "Thank you." Severus leant in a little as if automatically when Remus reached up to hug him but today he didn't kiss him. That left Severus frustrated and thoughtful, wrecking his brain why the other hadn't done it. Maybe he interpreted too much into it. He wished he were brave enough to ask Remus for the answer but he felt embarrassed by the mere thought.

Severus decided to wait for the next day to see if Remus would behave like that again. He would try to stay a little longer and have a real conversation with him again. Another thing he missed. So on Saturday, the day of the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, he filled the goblet with Wolfsbane Potion and climbed the many stairs to the other's office. But when he knocked on the door and was allowed in ("Come in"), the werewolf wasn't alone. Severus stopped when he saw the insolent Potter-brat sitting on his chair, drinking from his cup, together with his werewo-; he stopped his train of thought there, very abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at the boy. How could he dare? Now he even stole the little time Severus had with the werewolf from him. And Remus even seemed to enjoy his presence.

"Ah, Severus," said he smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Severus set the goblet down on the table, looking from one Gryffindor to the other. Why didn't he throw the boy out? He had known that Severus would come, so why had he let him in at all.

"I was just showing Harry my Grindylow," said Remus pleasantly and pointed at a glass tank in the corner. Severus didn't even look at it. He was in a very bad mood.

"Fascinating," he said. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," replied Remus but didn't touch the goblet. Severus grew impatient, he didn't like his tone.

"I made an entire cauldronful," he continued, though he knew that Remus must know that very well. "If you need more." It was meant as a message. An invitation. But the werewolf didn't seem to get it.

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus." Remus smiled. Severus scowled. He was throwing him out, wasn't he? That was too much. Severus was fuming inside.

"Not at all," he said and left with a last wary look at the two Gryffindors. He walked down the corridor into the direction that Potter wouldn't take since it was leading to the Astronomy Tower and leant against the wall behind a corner. He would wait for Potter to leave. He wanted to know if Remus had changed his mind. And he didn't have to wait for long. After a few minutes the door opened and closed again and he heard the boy walk away, his steps quickly disappearing.

When Severus approached the door of the werewolf's office, it opened and Remus stepped out with the goblet in his hands. He looked up, noticing Severus's presence and smiled, surprised.

"Oh, Severus, I wanted to bring you the goblet. I thought you had invited me," he said showing Severus into his office.

"I thought you hadn't realised," Severus growled and watched Remus open the door to his sitting room.

"And I thought you hadn't realised my invitation," he replied smiling slightly, "when I said you should leave the potion on the table. I meant to take it down to you and visit. I could hardly throw Harry out just because Professor Snape came in. That would have destroyed the illusion that you hate me."

Severus stared at him. Oh. That explained a lot. But still, the werewolf hadn't touched him. It seemed to Severus as if he were even keeping a distance. They sat down on the sofa and the werewolf set the goblet down on the table, leaning back with a sigh. Then he chuckled softly, as if to himself.

"Harry seemed quite shocked when he saw me drink the Potion. Apparently he thinks that you want to poison me to get my job."

Severus glared at him. "Oh, I don't think so. Even if you wanted to get my job, you would be smarter than poisoning me," Remus added quickly and his smile was replaced by a frown. "Why do you want to teach DADA so much? You're so good at Potions. I couldn't imagine anyone being better suited to teach them."

Severus looked out of the window. "They fascinate me, the Dark Arts," he answered quietly. "It is the variety of them, the possibilities they provide, the constant change they're in to prevent being beaten. I was there, I experienced them and their power." He wasn't so sure of what he said this time, it had been easier to tell the other about potions, something which wasn't meant exclusively for evil purposes. He didn't want the werewolf to think that he was evil.

"But you know that the subject is called Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Remus grinned.

"Yes, of course. That's the point. If you can find a way to beat the Dark Arts... then you can really change something. You don't understand. Who's interested in a new potion? Everyone is impressed only by new spells and powerful magic," Severus said, rolling his eyes.

The other was silent for a while, staring up at Severus who was sitting in a stiff posture, trying to ignore the werewolf's hand beside his leg. "I am impressed by your potions. You see how wonderful the things you can achieve are," Remus replied finally, waving his hand into the direction of the goblet. "That is much more special than fighting Dark magic with spells. You can relieve the world of their gravest problems."

Severus looked at him, his cold eyes wandering over Remus's delicate features. "I am quite good at inventing spells," he said, trying to convince himself that he wasn't attempting to impress the other man. He restrained himself from telling him that the spell his little friends had used to lift him into the air with had been invented by himself. A bitter experience, his own spells being used against him.

"I'm sure of that," Remus smiled. "And you are brilliant at Potions." Severus met his warm eyes and nodded, thinking that yes, actually he was right. Probably he was much better at Potions than at spells. And they were less humiliating. Still, the DADA job was a goal. Maybe because he couldn't have it. Maybe because even Albus didn't give him that chance. The only chance he strove for.

"Maybe one day you will cure lycanthropy," the werewolf whispered, smiling. You'd be the first to drink that cure, Severus thought, but didn't say it. Remus chuckled again. "I heard the children talk about Hogsmeade all week. I cannot believe they're still so fascinated by the Shrieking Shack."

Severus smirked a little. "It is indeed hard not to tell them the truth. That actually there never were any spirits in there," he said silkily and Remus turned to look at him with a worried face. "I mean, actually, you are a celebrity." At this the Gryffindor grinned.

"Yes, it's funny, isn't it? So much fuss about a little bit of monthly howling that stopped over a decade ago," he said. "You're right, it is strange to know the truth without being able to tell it. It's hard to believe that anyone would go to so much trouble only to enable me to study here. Really, I cannot believe it myself, that anyone would do something like that only for me."

Remus was still smiling slightly but his eyes were sad. Severus didn't agree with him. He could believe it, could comprehend it. But again he didn't say it. Maybe, he thought, maybe he doesn't touch me because I didn't respond. He fixed the werewolf, running his eyes down his beautiful face to his beautiful neck. Everything about him was beautiful. The Potions master mustered all the bravery he could find in himself and inched closer to Remus, his arm snaking around his shoulders, lowering his head, determined to take the initiative this time. He brushed his lips against Remus's neck, against his soft skin, and kissed one of the many scars, drawing a soft sigh from the other's mouth. Then he raised his head, nuzzling the werewolf's jaw, tilting his chin up with a gentle hand, finding his lips and pressing his own down upon them.

It was as if finally his addictive needs had been satisfied and he moaned softly, when Remus slid his hands over his chest and -

Suddenly a pair of surprisingly powerful arms pushed him away and he stared at Remus in startled shock. The werewolf was panting slightly, face flushed, and he quickly averted his eyes when Severus's searched them. He buried his face in his hands and said, "Please, don't, Severus."

For a moment the Potions master didn't understand but then he realised what it all meant. It all made sense, the aversion to look at him, to touch him. After all, the werewolf didn't want him. Had probably only toyed with him, laughed at him behind his back. He was furious. At himself most of all. He snatched the goblet from the table and strode to the fireplace angrily.

"Fine," he snapped, barely able to hold his voice steady. The werewolf's eyes shot up to him.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a weak voice, probably still disgusted by his touch.

"Away, that's what you want, isn't it?" And with that Severus tossed a handful of Floo powder into the grate and disappeared.

When he arrived in his rooms he stumbled and fell and would almost not have got up again. He threw the goblet into one of the glass cabinets in which he kept expensive potions ingredients and other materials as well as the awards he had received from the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. The glass shattered and Severus enjoyed the destruction, mimicking what was going on inside himself. He collapsed onto the sofa and tried to ignore the raging feelings inside of him, the sadness and the anger, the pain most of all. The feeling of loss.

When the feast started in the evening, Severus wished he could curse all the cheerful people around him, laughing and smiling. Sitting at the High Table he kept glancing over to the werewolf. He knew very well that the smile he was giving Flitwick was not genuine, but it made him sick that he was smiling at all, that he had someone to talk to, someone he listened to. And it made him sick that he wished it were himself. It hurt, and he was feeling empty and humiliated. He had opened himself too much to the werewolf, had let him see what he never let anyone else see. Why had he rejected him?

After the feast had been terminated and everyone was retiring to their rooms a panic broke loose. Sirius Black had broken into the castle and tried to get into Gryffindor Tower. Severus cursed the moron's stupidity that he hadn't managed to kill the Potter brat. At the same time, though, he wondered how he had gotten into the castle without anyone noticing. How could he have managed that on his own? When he hurried up to the corridor of the Fat Lady which was full of Gryffindors he joined McGonagall and, unfortunately, the werewolf meeting Albus standing in front of the slashed portrait, Peeves hovering above his head, telling him that Black had destroyed the portrait when the Fat Lady hadn't let him in. Immediately Remus set off to search for Black as some of the other teachers had already done and it made Severus suspicious that he was running so determinedly into the direction of the third-floor corridor. He decided to follow him quietly and kept a distance between them so the other wouldn't notice him.

"Sirius!" he heard him call when he had arrived in the corridor and he pressed his back against a wall, straining his ears. "Sirius, are you there? Don't make things worse!"

So Severus had been right. The werewolf had let Black into the castle. He grew furious again. How could he have fallen for that charade? He whipped out his wand and tried to ignore the searing pain in his chest. The other had tried to gain his trust, nothing more. Had used him. And he would pay for it. Severus would find a way to get him sacked or into prison. When he heard him call the murderer's name again, in a desperate voice, he revealed himself, stepping out of the shadows behind the werewolf, pointing his wand at him.

The Gryffindor whipped round with a shocked look on his face, wand at the ready, lowering it quickly when he saw it was the Potions master.

"Severus, it's you," he said weakly, standing in front of the statue of the one-eyed witch.

"Where is he?" Severus growled, his eyes darting through the dark corridor. The werewolf's eyes widened.

"I don't know!" he said far too quickly, putting his wand away, staring at Severus's being directed at him.

"Liar!" Severus snapped, red sparks flying from his wand. "I heard you call his name, I saw you come here as if you knew exactly where to go! You helped him into the castle, didn't you?!" He wanted the werewolf to say no, wanted him to shout at him, wanted him to soothe his anger. But when he did deny it, with that guilty gleam in his eyes, it only made him more furious.

"I didn't. I only thought I had seen a shadow move, that's why I came here. I don't know where he is and I didn't help him get in," he said quietly, and Severus wished he could believe him, but he was sure that the other at least knew more than he was letting on, that at most half of what he had said was true. But he didn't know which half. "Could you please lower your wand, Severus? It makes me a little nervous. I am unarmed, as you can see."

Severus hesitated. He wanted to curse him, hex him, make him feel the pain that he was feeling right now, thinking of how he pushed him away after he had finally found the bravery to take the initiative. But if he attacked him now, as the other was unarmed, and having no proof that he had helped Black, he would be the one sacked or imprisoned. So he lowered his wand, causing the werewolf to put on a relieved half-smile.

"I don't believe you!" said the Potions master in a threatening voice and the other flinched. "Dumbledore will hear about this!"

He turned and swept off ignoring the other's calls and his own urge to go back and pull him close. This was what he had been scared of, and now it had happened. How very encouraging.

Severus searched the third floor at least ten times before he was quite certain that no madman was there. He made sure to meet Remus once in a while to prevent him from doing anything criminal. He received reports from Filch who had searched the dungeons and from all the other teachers who had patrolled the rest of the castle, but no one had seen Black. The werewolf had been too quick. When Severus made his way down to the Great Hall to find Dumbledore at about three o'clock in the morning, his anger was growing steadily. He had so wished to be the one to find Black. He could have taken revenge so easily, no one would have complained. When he entered the Great Hall he strode over to Albus and the Weasley Head Boy.

"Headmaster?" he said quietly and the old man turned towards him. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either."

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?" Albus asked.

"All searched..." Severus replied with a look at Weasley.

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Severus asked carefully.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next," Albus answered with a warning look. Severus was so angry, it was hard not to shout at the older man. And in the presence of the boy he couldn't just blurt out his own theory without evoking Albus's anger. So he tried to avoid names.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before - ah - the start of term?" the Potions master said, barely moving his lips to make it clear to the boy that he wasn't supposed to hear it.

"I do, Severus," Albus said, not only his voice warning Severus to drop the topic. There was a dangerous gleam in his blue eyes. But Severus's fury was stronger than his respect right now.

"It seems - almost impossible - that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed -" he continued, still careful, nevertheless he made his point clear, but Albus interrupted him.

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," he replied firmly, in a tone which finally silenced the Potions master. He knew when his efforts were in vain. But still, he was angry at the old man for not listening. For being so naïve. "I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" the boy asked.

"Oh yes," said Albus in an unusually cold voice. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

And Severus was glad that he wouldn't let them in. Otherwise he'd probably see even more terrible moments in his mind. He didn't want to relive Remus's rejection. It was painful enough having experienced it once. That was unforgivable. That was why he needed him to leave.

Well, he would just have to keep trying. He watched Albus exit the Hall and wished he had been alone with him so he could have told him all about what he'd seen and heard. Now his chance had passed. Albus wouldn't listen to him anymore. He heaved a sigh when he left the Hall. He wished he had given in to fear in the beginning. That would have spared him the painful loss.