Vanilla-Scented Smoke

Vanilla-Scented Smoke

Chapter Six: Back To Square One

In which Eden stuffs her bra, several kneazles are cute, Remus goes insane, Snape makes an idiot of himself, we gain insight into the life of our second-favorite werewolf, and some Muggles are thoroughly bewildered.

A sliding door opened in the wall and a flock of furry kneazles rushed out. Kneazles, Snape thought. How absolutely terrifying. But a few seconds later he heard the hurried footsteps down the hall. There were real people coming to investigate. But why the kneazles? Snape tried to make his way towards a door in the opposite wall that, with any luck, would lead to a closet he could hide in, but the seven or eight or so kneazles surrounded his feet and nipped at the cuffs of his trousers, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Right, that might be one reason they were there; sticking charms on the bottom of his shoes could hardly have been more effective.

With determination, Snape drew back his right foot and sent on one unfortunate animal flying into the wall with a thud. It didn't get up. The rest of the creatures made some pathetic mewling noises, but hastily got out of the way of Snape's feet. Now he could shut himself up.

---

It wasn't a moment too soon; there were multiple voices outside.

"Password?" Eden asked in a bored tone.

"Eden, is there anyone inside there?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," she snapped. "What do I look like, a total delinquent?" she pointed her cancer stick menacingly.

"Fine. Let us in."

Eden did nothing.

The wizard sighed. "Mellon.¹"

Eden frowned as she swung open. She was sure that was an allusion of some sort, but she didn't know what.

She settled back into place and realized that one wizard was still outside. She looked at him questioningly.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Eden," he said solemnly.

Eden failed miserably in her attempt to blow a smoke ring at him, and coughed as it backfired in her face.

---

The door closed behind Snape, and the slivers of light that should have marked the edges disappeared. He felt for any crevices with his fingers in the pitch darkness; they were gone. The door must have been enchanted.

Crap.

---

"Hey, guys," One wizard greeted the kneazles happily.

"Hank, look at that one." Someone pointed to the still animal by the wall. Hank scooped it up immediately.

"There's no one here," a third wizard said unnecessarily. They all looked around; there was no evidence of an intruder: no drawers open, nothing missing, no muddy footprints or any such clue, and certainly no people.

"Then what set off the alarm?" the second wizard asked, confused.

"Maybe the kneazles got out and touched something that was charmed," the third wizard said sagaciously.

Hank nodded. "Must be. I bet Spot here just got excited and ran into the wall."

They looked around at each other. Hank petted Spot tenderly and tried to feel for broken bones.

"Let's go," someone said, putting on a pair of sunglasses. Hank nodded at him once. They left in formation.

---

Snape heard the men leave. The door still didn't open.

"Lumos."

He surveyed the lit up area around him; ahead of him stretched a narrow tunnel that twisted and turned away into darkness. How clichéd, he observed. He wondered somewhat idly if it led to some type of Wonderland and an inordinate number of white rabbits in tailcoats.

Snape supposed it couldn't hurt to find out.

---

Jude sent an owl off to Merrmardikans and smiled to himself. He was done working, and it looked nice outside. He had that feeling that normally comes with the unique, retiring colors of sunset: contented tiredness, tinged with appreciation for the little things around him.

The windows in his office - real windows, not enchanted ones - showed a fairly magical azure twilight outside. Pinprick stars, only the brightest ones yet, were just becoming visible. The still-pink flushes in the west bathed a stone memorial in a Muggle park outside with its dying light. It was beautiful, he thought to himself, simply beautiful and rather poetic. Jude loved working smack in the middle of the Muggle business district; he loved the grassy, populated park outside. He loved the warm alpenglow of sunset, although in all fairness, he loved all the other times of day as well. He loved his desk, his picture windows, his owl Apollo, Ella and Joe and Chris and Sam. He loved his job, as stressful as it was, and he loved that it was 5:37 in the evening (he loved the evening) and that he had finished his work and had twenty-three minutes to himself before he left his office and the earth resumed its revolutions.

He looked around calmly, feeling for all the world completely content with anyone and everyone and everything. His life was perfect, it seemed, and he could not have been happier, not only with the fact that everything was beautiful but with the knowledge that he had a sincere appreciation for simple pleasures. He knew that that kind of simplicity was hard to come by, and prided himself privately on having it.

He looked out the window, hands behind his back, for a bit longer before he lumosed his wand and settled tired into an armchair with a tattered copy of Eddie the Evil.

Life was good.

---

At the end of the tunnel was another door, which Snape opened carefully. On the other side, he found, was a multitude of Muggles. Hundreds and hundreds of them, it seemed, walking around in disorganized crowds and every one of them in a hurry. Where was he? A workplace of some sort, it must be. Obviously a very important workplace, judging by the masses of people on their way to the office. Just imagine who was already at work.

They were all moving, and all around: through turnstiles, up ramps, down huge staircases--

Who had enchanted those stairways to move? They were all over the place, and moving up and down of their own accord. Some wizarding joke it had been; why hadn't he read about it in the Prophet? And why weren't these people alarmed?

They were Muggles, he knew; they were dressed funny. And no wizards or witches ever moved around so much. Perhaps it wasn't an office building after all. It could have been a gymnasium. No, that was unlikely.

Snape realized he must have looked out of place among them all, and tried to step back though the door. He found to his chagrin that it, too, had vanished behind him. He was standing next to a sealed wall instead of a means of escape.

Well, then, there was only one thing to do. Tentatively, Snape walked to the nearest staircase and waited for it to move him downward with the other hundreds of people, all of them pushing and shoving or waiting patiently.

He looked at the wall. Love is... not dropping litter.²

Some art. Nothing compared to the portraits and tapestries at Hogwarts; he had expected even Muggles to show some kind of skill in their pictures.

Love is... letting people off first.

The subjects were rather cute, though. It made him feel almost sorry about incapacitating that kneazle.

The pictures on the wall didn't move. Obviously, the prank hadn't extended that far.

The stairs deposited him on a platform. A train station, then. Muggle trains. Not King's Cross; nowhere he had been before.

And sure enough, there were the sleek white trains. But where did they go? Snape decided it would be best not to board.

Mind the Gap.

---

Snape had been waiting forever. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't get on the trains. Muggles kept coming and going and going and coming. He wanted to Apparate away - but that would hardly be tactful. He couldn't figure out where he might find any area free of them, and he was reluctant to wander around, as it might lead to his becoming even more lost.

So he just waited.

It was hardly helping his temper.

It was after about an hour that Security took notice of the thin, pale man, dressed in layer upon layer of black, who had been hunched against the wall, scowling, since he had arrived.

Officer Abbot gulped as he walked up to the man. He looked like a bat, Abbot thought. Scratch that, he looked like the Grim Reaper. Officer Brown next to him did not seem any less afraid. ³

"The train just left, Mister," he said, approaching Snape. "Why aren't you on it?"

The man looked annoyed. "I seem to have gotten lost."

"On your way to where?" the pudgier of the two officers asked gruffly, putting his thumb through a navy blue belt loop.

Snape wondered if he would have to fight his way out. "Away."

"Ah." The officer looked doubtful. "Maybe you'd better come with us."

Snape was in way over his head, and knew it. Meekly, he followed them away. There were very few Muggles left on the platform, but one was enough to discourage him from doing any magic.

He trailed the two men into a dingy office behind the ticket machines. He slid his wand from his pocket into his sleeve, so that he could aim its tip with his hands but it wasn't protruding far enough to be visible.

"You say you got lost on your way outside?" Abbot asked. Dammit, he thought. He was probably a serial killer. Or a drug dealer. Or a terrorist. They weren't paying Abbot nearly enough to deal with people like this. Look at his face, he thought, the guy's probably a vampire.

Snape scowled. He had very little choice but to tell them the truth, or part of it, at least. "I found myself in a concourse and followed it down to the tracks. I did not know where to go after that." He grimaced at how stupid his own explanation sounded.

"Right," proclaimed Brown after a short pause. "You're completely off your rocker."

Snape started. Then he said with concern, "Sir, your hair seems to be turning purple."

Abbot stared at his partner.

Brown stared back. "Abbot," he asked cautiously, "Whaddya think's wrong with your ears?"

His partner tenderly moved his hands up to his head, his eyes growing wide at what he found there.

Neither noticed when Snape Disapparated away; the loud crack only frightened the white rabbits that seemed to be proliferating from deep inside Brown's hat.

---

"Oh, there you are," a nurse said, exasperated. She grabbed Lupin's hand and pulled him over to a soft chair in the waiting room. "Now, that was naughty. We've been looking all over for you."

Lupin tried to smile sheepishly. He had been so close to escaping; they had finally caught up to him in the waiting area, which was the only place from which it was possible to Apparate or Disapparate.

"Look what Hank got you," she said benevolently.

Lupin looked; Hank, a wizard in lime green medical robes was cradling a wounded and bandaged kneazle in his arms.

"Now, his name is Spot," the nurse continued in a fake singsongy voice, "and you have to be very careful with him."

"Oh, I will," Lupin assured her. He scratched behind Spot's ears, making him purr contentedly.

The nurse smiled.

It was at that point that Snape interrupted them by Apparating a few feet away. Remus looked at him with surprise.

Snape shook his head slightly and sat down. He took a piece of parchment from his pocket, along with a quill, and then a sheaf of paper that Lupin imagined must have been his medical record.

What is going on? Lupin tried to ask Snape with his eyes. Why did you leave the records room? It didn't work. The nurse, who had been inconspicuously carressing Hank's back, turned around and faced Lupin again. "Now, you stay here, okay?"

Lupin nodded, still intent on Snape.

"Good," she said. She didn't trust him, it seemed, for she took out her wand and conjured ropes that tied Lupin's left wrist to the arm of the chair he was sitting on. Satisfied with her security measures, she turned to another patient, a young, black-haired witch in a purple dress, and escorted her out.

After his illuminating chat with Neville, Remus found he was feeling more confident about Snape. Perhaps they should talk, he reasoned. Remus wasn't really a shy person, no, and normally he was level-headed and sensible. So what if Snape was attractive, he told himself. It was no reason to hide in the corner (and a good reason not to hide in the closet, in this case) or to get all teary-eyed at the thought of kissing.

Snape was really no better than him, the grounded part of his brain knew.

Somehow, Lupin felt rather cured of whatever had been bothering him. Not his infatuation, if you could call it that, but rather his breaking down when he thought about it.

Now that that was taken care of: "What's going on?" he hissed, businesslike once again.

Snape explained to him about the portrait hole, the records, the--

"Kneazles?"

"Just shut up, Lupin. And security--"

and the Underground station and being picked up by Muggle cops. Parts of the story made Remus laugh, despite Snape's bitter, succinct speech.

"As soon as I am finished, Lupin, I will need you to create another distraction so I can return the file."

"I see."

"What are you smiling about? I find--oh. Here, you copy it."

"You hold Spot, then."

Snape took the wounded kneazle, whom he was a bit relieved to find out was not dead, though he wouldn't have admitted that he cared, as Remus took the quill and ink from him and began copying.

"Only the first page."

"I know."

The two sat in a fairly companionable silence.

---

"You should put it back." Lupin straightened, closed the folder, and handed it back to Snape. "The portrait girl knows you."

"Right. It's all in order, then?"

"Yes."

"Good. Create another diversion, then."

"I will. Just wait," said Lupin.

They sat, quiet, for a while, Snape expectant without knowing exactly what it was he was expecting. He was wondering slightly what Remus was planning to do.

"I think we should talk," Remus began tactfully. Snape had the feeling he knew what, exactly, Remus wanted to talk about.

"Let me guess. Our so-called relationship?"

"Yes." Lupin was not as disheartened at the 'so-called' as he might have been before. He had been acting stupid, he knew. Quite unlike him, really. He was surprised at how sensitive he had been. A good listener, sure; he prided himself on that, on knowing when and how to be quiet. Understanding, yes, he was that, too, but overly shy? No. What was it that made his mind curl up into a ball at that thought of Snape?

Or perhaps, it would be better to examine what could make his mind curl up into a ball in general.

He already knew the answer to that one: girls. The prospect of romance or dating always made him feel left out, in a way. He skirted it as well as he could. It was really the only thing that intimidated him, he reflected proudly. Remus Lupin was no coward. But for some reason, he had always clammed up around his old girlfriend - what was her name? Laura - because he was simply Not Good With Girls. Never had been, never would be. That was really the only thing that made him feel pushed aside; otherwise, he was perfectly functional as an adult. A former teacher, an experienced artifactologist, an expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The rest of his life was full; he just so happened, embarrassingly, to be a virgin. But that was okay, wasn't it? It was an all-encompassing problem in itself, but not at all a limiting one. His fear of females extended so far that the witches who worked above the Hog's Head made him almost as nervous as Laura had, and he had been so uncomfortable around people like them that he'd always left before he got what he'd paid for - usually before he had even began to unbutton his shirt. They just repelled him like matching magnets; there was nowhere on Earth he felt less comfortable than surrounded by women who were even remotely interested in having sex with him.

Now Snape was making him feel just as shy. This was new; he had generally felt friendly towards guys he could talk to. Perhaps his nervousness around Snape wasn't exactly normal, he admitted. But he was starting to understand: it brought back old memories he'd had, his hopes of meeting that Right Person, someone who didn't care if he was a virgin or a lycanthrope or overly quiet. It was a sweet recollection. He thought of it sometimes; it made a good issue to daydream about. But Severus - being with Severus, kissing Severus, touching Severus - brought those feelings back stronger than they had been before. They broke down his defenses, no, not defenses, his common sense, and reduced him to a weak puddle of goo. They even made him cry, they were so strong. They excited him so much, he could have been a six-year-old girl with her first crush on any one of an assorted collection of handsome fairy tale princes. It was fairly disgusting, except that Remus found himself liking it.

All Lupin knew was that he wanted more. He wanted his sweet, innocent fantasies disturbed further, he wanted warmth to flood through him again the way it had that first time on New Years or the second in the hallway. He wouldn't mind shedding tears if they meant another kiss with Severus.

He wanted to be bold about it. He wanted to be able to melt into Severus's arms, but not always to wait for an initiation, not to be repeatedly at a loss for words, and not to feel so weak.

He just wanted to get together with Snape, and although he didn't know which connotation of the phrase to aim for, that was really the gist of it.

Now Remus felt he had it all sorted out. His conscious mind was on the same wavelength as his subconscious; he knew what he wanted and he had some idea of how to go about getting it.

Severus had turned back to the Wizarding Weekly in his hands, convinced that Remus had given up on their conversation.

"Wait! I'm still talking to you!"

Snape looked up.

"What did you mean, 'Our so-called relationship?'?"

"We kissed once."

"Twice."

"Right. Twice. Hardly something to speak of, is it?"

"Well, we can build on it," Lupin reasoned. "I mean, I like you, obviously."

Snape ignored the question Remus was implying and instead said, "You cried the second time."

"I did not."

"You did."

"Maybe a little, Snape, but I'd never felt like that before."

"Like what?" Snape smirked. "You've never felt true love?"

"Shove it. I never felt like I... just wanted to melt."

"Melt?" Snape arched an eyebrow.

"You're not making this any easier, Severus," Lupin said, sighing. "It's just, I used to dream about all that sappy fairytale stuff. About the romances and the way everything just worked and... Obviously, it never happened. Except when I'm with you, it all starts coming back. Like maybe it's possible and not just a daydream."

Snape said nothing. He did lean forward a bit, though, and gave Remus his attention as if he knew he were serious. "You're so shy," was all he said after a time. It wasn't an accusation or a revelation, just a toneless statement.

"Only about matters like this." Lupin smiled earnestly.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

"So... d'you fancy me, too?" Remus asked quietly.

Snape didn't move. "Yes."

There was a pause. "Okay, then." Pause. "So that's the signal we can get involved?"

Pause. "I suppose." Snape looked very much as if he were holding back a relieved smile.

They looked at each other for a moment before a loudspeaker crackled to life. "Healers Mitchell, Fabruley, Skidstipps -"

"There's your distraction," Lupin said. It couldn't have come at a better time: after they had worked it out, but before things had gotten awkward again.

Remus slid from his seat to the floor and landed with a thud. Kneeling in the fetal position, he grunted and wrapped his head in his hands and hid his face.

"Get out of my head," he began to moan, loud enough for the other patients to be disturbed. His voice was low and pleading, and he really did look his part, tied to a chair and with his face buried in his hands. "Stop... talking... to... me..." he rasped. A few people turned to stare, and Lupin picked it up a notch. "Go away!" he commanded the voices in his head. "Go away! And never come back!" He writhed convincingly on the floor, but the loudspeaker went on, oblivious.

"Please!" Lupin continued to cry out. "Just leave me alone!" More and more people were looking on now. A few pointed and laughed, but most, despite the hustle and bustle of St. Mungo's, seemed to have time to appear genuinely concerned.

Lupin uttered a long, drawn-out cry, as if he was in immense pain. He ducked his head lower so that his elbows engulfed it completely when they rested on his knees. It was hard to talk from that position, but his voice only sounded more disjointed and muffled. "Just... get out... of my head!"

A gaggle of healers rushed into the room just as Lupin looked up and met the eyes of a terrified boy nearby. He whispered hoarsely, "The voices won't leave me alone," before he was dragged off, still kicking and screaming desperately.

When he caught a glance over his shoulder, Snape had gone.

---

The next time Severus saw Eden, she had her top unbuttoned and was peering down the front of her dress, trying to rearrange the ties on her corset so the water balloons would fit.

"Ahem."

Eden looked up. "Oh, sorry." She made no move to cover herself up, instead taking out a blue water balloon and setting it down next to her.

"You do look rather lopsided now, you know," Snape informed her.

"Right." she took out the green balloon as well, ate a jelly bean, jangled the new silver bracelet on her wrist, looked at Snape, and said, "You want to go back inside?"

"Yes."

"Fine," she said, swinging open. "Try not to set off any alarms this time, okay?"

"Right," said Snape, swiftly, as he walked through.

The opening closed and Eden muttered, "Idiot," under her breath before she started fiddling with her chest again.