A/N: Written for Mauraderswolf…happy b-day!! (3/3) Inspired by </a></strong></a>blpaintchart's prompt ‘woolly hat’ she, also, graciously beta/brit picked it too!! Thank you!! I’m apparently having a reunion week sorry if this seems familiar. Reposted from my journal.</font>
It was beyond mad; he’d kept this hat for the better part of two years. He fingered it like a talisman almost daily. A woolly hat, he’d nicked from Remus the spring before Dumbledore’s demise. Well, it was supposed to be spring. Spring in Scotland did not always preclude snow. Remus had made snow angels, and a snowman taller than himself that morning. Severus had stood and watched, occasionally throwing a stealthy snowball and trying unsuccessfully to look innocent.
Remus’ cheeks and nose were pink, his smile as wide as his face that day and his amber eyes lit with joy as he frolicked in the snow. Severus swore he could almost see behind the eyes to the wolf dancing gleefully as well. He’d taken the hat when they’d returned inside on the pretext of drying it. With reverence he’d secreted it away in his cloak.
Sometimes the hat made him melancholy as he rubbed it through his fingers, other times he would remember the simple pleasures of that day, carnal and otherwise. The muted colours of stripes reminded him of the face Remus showed the world, placid and amiable, but not passionate and intense, as Severus knew him to be.
Yesterday, dozens of crocuses had bloomed in his garden. His mother planted them last autumn. She’d told him he’d eventually have an entire garden full if the rabbits didn’t eat them. Last night they’d had a snowfall, just a few inches, but the flowers were covered. This afternoon the snow was blindingly brilliant as the sun reflected off of it. Severus had seen something that struck a chord, something that would move him to action.
A single purple crocus had made its way up through the snow. Beyond the obvious phallic reference, Severus saw beauty amongst the harsh conditions. The forces of nature at work to have such things survive. Merlin, even after almost two years apart, the werewolf made him wax poetic.
Here he stood at the wolf’s door, clutching the hat in his hand wondering how Remus would react to his return from the dead. He supposed if things went poorly he could simply claim he was just returning the hat. Severus knocked, biting his lip and holding his breath. The door opened followed by a low ragged “Severus”.
Severus was pinned to the door by Remus’ body, his face cupped between Remus hands and held still for the frantic kisses, which were rained upon it. Finally, Remus’ lips were drawn to his. The chill outside eventually penetrating, and Remus pulled them inside closing the door as he pressed Severus’ back firmly against it. After a time the hat fell from Severus’ fingers. Remus threaded their fingers together, and dragged Severus down the hallway. As there had been no need for an excuse, the woolly hat lay forgotten on the rug.