Author:bonfoi Rating: PG Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape Summary: This story takes place in an alternate reality where Remus’ spine is a bit stiffer, Severus’ heart a bit tender, and they see something about the other that makes it worthwhile. Challenge: lupin_snape RetroFest 2009, Prompt #6 (see Part One for full prompt). Word Count: Part Six: 2,082 Genre: Alternate Reality; Romance; Angst; Humor Warnings: None Highlight for Warnings: * None * A/N: I wondered how Remus made contact with the werewolf clans, how Severus and Harry might interact when one of them wasn’t angry, and, now…I hope that I met the requirements of the prompt with what the Prompter needed, besides the Snupin Love! The speculations used are listed at the end of the fic.
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
Remus awoke in luxury he’d never imagined. The hangings of his bed were midnight blue silk embroidered with Celtic wolves and the sigils for sun and moon. The pillows beneath his head, and his bandaged arm, were of the softest goose down, and covered with a lighter shade of blue silk. The duvet was black with blue trim, a nubby raw silk that felt decadent beneath his fingertips. He sighed and closed his eyes again.
“You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” Severus watched as Re-Lupin stiffened and then opened first one eye and then the other. The pupils dilated, but the blue-green of his eyes never changed. “So calm. So trusting, Lupin.” He settled himself into a Louis XIV chair he’d placed near the bed the night before and crossed his ankles.
Remus struggled to push himself up the pillows, but the softness worked against him and he subsided with a huff. Snape’s laughter and then his hands on Remus’ shoulders, pushing him forward and then pulling him up on newly-fluffed pillows surprised him so much he gaped at Severus as he sat down once more. “You…you…you voluntarily touched me?!”
“Yes, Lupin, I, Severus Snape, greasy git and double-agent, touched you, Dark Creature and another double-agent, voluntarily.” Severus’ tone was wry, his lips quirked in a small, sly smile as Lupin continued gasping like a landed fish. He shook his head, rolled his eyes and Summoned a tray with a pot and two cups on it.
“Have some tea. The panacea of Britain will help your overworked mental processes.” Severus poured, looking at Remus as he let one hand hover over the sugar bowl—two fingers meant two teaspoons—and a plate of lemons—one finger. “And no milk.” Snape stirred and placed the cup on a sauce which he set to drift over Lupin’s lap.
They drank in silence, Remus’ hand shaking ever-so-slightly as he brought his cup to his lips. The tea was strong but sweet, and as always, it soothed his ruffled nerves. Once another cup had been made up and sipped at, the lycanthrope took a deep breath. “How did I get here?”
Severus set his cup down and stared at the Celtic wolves of the bed hangings. “Mr. Potter implored me to take you away from the madhouse. I brought you to a family estate.” He held up a staying hand as Remus’ drew in some air. “You will stay here and recuperate. There is no need for you to do anything else for two days.” He stared deep into Lupin’s eyes as he spoke. “I will give your report to Albus. You will stay here and listen to Mimsy.”
Sputtering, Remus tried to get out of the bed, but his muscles refused. “I’m a grown wizard, Severus!” he growled. Snape’s response was a small smirk. Crossing one arm over his chest, the lycanthrope fumed even as he saw the logic in the plan. “Fine!” He threw up his good arm. “I’m at the tender mercies of you and a house-elf whose name rhymes with whimsy!”
Laughing, Severus let slip a sly grin. “She’s more fearsome than McGonagall on her worst day.” Remus’ choked laughter greeted the volley and Snape stood up, assured that the Gryffindor would be very little trouble. “Dinner arrive after your nap.”
“Nap?! Why? I just woke...wooo...” Soft snorts ended Remus’ rant before it got started.
Standing by his bedside, Severus gave into a whim and traced one eyebrow carefully. He whispered, “Slytherins take their charges seriously, Lupin. I’ll see you better, in spite of your Gryffindorish tendencies.” He stepped away quickly lest he give into even more, unseemly, urges.
Ω•≡•Ω♦Ω•≡•Ω♦
Two weeks went by after Lupin’s unintentional intrusion into his home, and Severus still wondered how the damned werewolf had managed to cut up his peace so thoroughly. He’d had to brew potions to purge the rest of the silver from the werewolf’s body, potions to ease his linger pain from a transformation while suffering that same silver poisoning, and a liniment for the abused elbow and shoulder he’d gotten fending off Tonks. Yet, the most feared professor of recent Hogwarts’ memory had done it all without demur.
“I must be mad!” he muttered to himself as he rinsed cut-glass bottles and affixed blank new labels to them.
“Not mad, I’d say.” Harry Potter’s voice—once so grating—wormed its way into Severus’ consciousness. “More like you, you know, you like Remus. Simple really, once you think on it.”
“Potter, just because I gave in once....”
The young man’s laughter brightened the gloom of his dungeon laboratory. “No, sir, you never gave in in your life. I’m just saying it’s like me an’...well, you’ll know at the war’s end, okay? But I’d guess you and Remus are becoming friends, if nothing else.” He continued his detention, polishing cauldrons and ladles by hand.
“It’s gone nine o’clock, Professor Snape,” he called out, their signal that another—student or other Hogwarts denizen—was at the door.
Waving his hand in a shooing motion, Severus turned to look into the shadows of his doorway, at the hunched-over body of Remus Lupin. The fool werewolf stepped in, brushed a hand over Potter’s head and then shut the stout door with a flurry of spells.
“Why?” he rasped out. His face was grey, his hands shook, but there was a fire in Lupin’s eyes that had nothing to do with the lycanthropy. “Why save me and then ignore all my messages?”
“I received no messages.” Severus skirted the student desks and reached for Lupin’s wavering form. “Sit down, you foolish man,” he scolded. As the words hit the air, Snape rolled his eyes at the soppiness of the phrase. He guided Lupin down onto a stool, close enough to a desk for him to slouch across it. “Now, you will drink the potion I’ll give, eat the food I bring you, and then you will tell me—in a reasonable manner—what messages you are alluding to.” Severus barely waited for Lupin’s nod of assent before turning away in a swirl of robes.
Once in his private office, Severus grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and threw it into the fire, shouting for Poppy Pomfrey as he did it. After a hurried consultation, he backed away and began grabbing potion vials and flasks from the shelves, giving himself no time to wonder at his actions. He called for his house-elf, gave it a list of foods for himself and Lupin, and returned to the classroom to find the lycanthrope’s head on his arms on the desk.
Severus stood in the doorway and let himself look. Lupin’s body was in a defensive posture, something he hadn’t seen in years. His clothes—how had he missed the smear of dark, dried blood on the arms—were more ragged than before. Shaking off his preoccupation, Severus strode forward, barking orders and then commencing Lupin’s healing regimen. “Take this,” he handed over a small green flask, “and this”—another flask, this one blue. “And, this one”—a crystal vial with something roiling in violet. “You’ll take the rest after you’ve eaten.”
Remus swallowed his ire as well as the potions Snape shoved at him. He felt the muzziness in his head receding and his aching arm—which he should have had Pomfrey look at before barging into the dungeons. “I’m a fool, aren’t I?” he rasped out.
His lips twisted into a travesty of a smile and made something inside Severus break apart. “Lupin, you were a fool when we were young. As an adult, you have never struck as such. Get your very British chin up and stiffen that damned upper lip of yours, man!” Severus smacked his palms against the desk, jarring them both with his vehemence.
The house-elf arrived with a platter with the requested foods. The pop of its arrival had silenced anything else for the time being. Severus put the plates for Lupin in front of him and then stood silent watch as he picked at the delicacies. “Eat, you clod! Or I’ll be tempted to harvest werewolf parts!” Severus growled.
Lupin’s startled laughter seemed to ease the tension and Severus sat back down, pulling his own late dinner near. They ate in a more companionable silence, until Lupin had cleared the plate of almost everything before him. Remus sat back with a sigh and pushed back from the table, his color more ruddy than nonexistent.
“Severus, I’ve been sending notes for you, tucked into my reports, ever since I got back from Wuffa’s Rest. Why haven’t you returned a reply?” Lupin’s lips tightened into a grimace as he waited for Snape’s answer.
Taking a moment to calm himself again, Severus spoke. “I received no messages. I have only had interactions with Albus and Mr. Potter.” He visibly searched his memory, fingers tapping a staccato tattoo on the tabletop. “That’s all. No messages,” he reiterated. He watched Lupin’s face crumble.
“It must have been Tonk.” Remus shook his head, his mouth tightening as he continued. “Somehow, some way, she must have intercepted the notes for you,” he muttered. Then his blue-green eyes flew up to meet Snape’s. “I mean...”
“You mean you were sending me billet doux in your intelligence.” Severus’ eyebrow quirked into an almost perfect crescent as he turned a stern look on the werewolf. His voice dropped, the timbre turning into an audible stroke as he murmured, “You were letting me know you missed me.” Severus leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me one of the messages.”
Lupin’s eyes were wide in his drawn face, but his smile was blinding. He too leaned forward and whispered, “ One word frees us all of the weight and pain of life: that word is love.” Remus laid his arm across the table, palm up. Within seconds, Severus’ dry, warm palm was laid across his, fingers curling gently.
“I would never have forgotten a message like that, Lupin.” Severus tugged gently and drew Remus up from his chair and toward a comfortable settee. “Now, you will sit and wait for Madam Pomfrey. If you chose to doze, there is a light blanket on the other arm.”
Smiling tiredly, Remus nodded and settled back, relaxing until his head slid to the side and a soft snuffling sounded. Severus gently unclenched the lycanthrope’s fingers from his and laid the other man’s hand on his thigh. He stepped to the end of the settee and unfurled the blanket over Remus, tucking in the sides and putting a small pillow under his neck. If his fingers lingered on the feverish skin, tracing faint lines over old scars, only he knew. At a sharp knock on his door, Snape turned to let in Madam Pomfrey.
An hour later, the mediwitch had tut-tutted and waved her wand, diagnosing insomnia, dehydration and surprisingly, a bout of food poisoning. “Professor Snape, if you could accommodate Mr. Lupin for the night, I would appreciate it.” She cast a fond glance of her former charge, and then turned to harangue Remus.
“And you, sir,” she poked Remus, “are to take the potions Professor Snape has kindly agreed to make in the next few hours. No back-talk, and no back-sliding!” Her wand dug into Remus’ pectoral muscles as she jabbed him for emphasis. “He’s a busy man, is Professor Snape, and you need to be somewhere else, if I’m not mistaken. Two days, and then you must be gone.” She turned in a flurry of white robes and a cloud of antiseptic odors, only pausing to pat Severus on the cheek on her way through the door.
“She never treated me like that before,” Remus said wonderingly. He gulped down a hydrating potion and winced. “Still heavy on the salt, eh?” His lips were pursed until he could sip enough water to undo them. “Severus, are you one of her favourites?” he teased, sipping another glass of water.
Cheeks lightly rouged with a blush, Snape busied himself across the room. His answer was muffled, but still clear to Remus’ preternatural hearing: “She’s a cousin. Just found out a year ago. Damn woman mothers me.”
Remus’ delighted laughter made Severus smile and while he prepared the necessary fresh potions, they traded family stories to pass the time. Neither wizard remarked on the message Lupin had given Snape, but the words still reverberated between them until Severus turned down his covers and fell into a restful sleep.