Thanks to attic_plan for the beta! All remaining errors are either me being lazy or stubborn -- that, or my new laptop's word processing program, which likes to auto-uncorrect correct words and reformat punctuation at random. Please let me know if you notice any oddities!
Lupin was all but invisible the next day; whether he was avoiding Severus or trying to conceal his state of being, Severus wasn’t sure. He overheard Caroline chastising him for insisting on going in to work on the grounds that ‘not only is it a Saturday, but you had that dizzy spell earlier’ and wondered again what he wasn’t being told.
In a way, he was glad for the lack of interruption. Severus had things he needed to sort through, and they were more than just his books. In bed the night before, trying to fall asleep, he’d been unable to stop himself from thinking about Lupin’s motivations, not to mention his own. In times past, he wouldn’t have given an offer like Lupin’s even a moment of thought, not when it came loaded with so much emotional baggage. Even now he was wary, yet he’d still accepted. There was more than the chance for his ideal employment, that much was clear to him. The realisation that Lupin had begun to plan for his freedom at once and his devotion had persisted no matter how debased Severus felt he had become spoke loudly to him even though he wasn’t entirely sure he liked what it had to say. It was much easier to pretend that he was not at all tempted by the possibility of something more between them, for how to achieve or maintain such a thing was a complete mystery to him.
‘I suppose,’ he said to his mirror as he lathered for a shave, ‘I could start with being a little less of a bastard.’
That evening at supper, Lupin seemed cheerful enough but ate much less than was usual and didn’t bother with the luscious wine he offered to Severus.
Between mouthfuls of mashed potato and roast beef, Severus attempted what he hoped would be an amiable conversation. ‘Did your meeting continue as planned today?’
‘It did,’ replied Lupin, idly pushing a stray pea over a precipice of potato. ‘The Croatian delegate was more than willing to hear us out and I think the plan has gone over well.’
‘And what is the plan?’
‘We’re hoping to extend more outreach programs into the country; they have a substantial werewolf population that is almost completely overlooked by their government and as a result, is largely feral. We’re offering our resources and expertise in helping them adjust to regular wizarding society and in exchange, all they have to do for us is promise the money will be spent as we intend.’
Severus dredged his remaining forkful of beef through the last pool of gravy. ‘Sounds very humanitarian.’
‘I’ll presume that you aren’t trying to make a joke.’ At his look of confusion, Lupin elaborated. ‘Werewolves? Humanitarian? No? I should make a roast and mash more often, then, if it takes the sharpness out of your tongue.’
‘You know, Lupin, you make expressing a polite interest in conversation extraordinarily difficult for a fellow.’
‘In my defence, you don’t often take that approach.’
He arranged his knife and fork on the empty plate with perfect precision before sending it to the sink with a flick of his wand. ‘With that kind of reception, is it any wonder that I don’t? And to think that I was going to ask if you might be interested in a game after supper.’
At this, the otherwise indifferent-looking Lupin perked up at once. ‘What sort did you have in mind?’
Seeing Lupin’s reaction, Severus could only reconsider revoking the offer. ‘Chess, cards, something; I don’t really know what you have.’
‘What about poker? Do you like poker?’
‘As long as it’s the kind where I keep my clothes on, yes.’
‘Of course it is,’ Lupin promised, gathering the remaining dishes from the table and casting a quick charm at the sink, filling it with sudsy water. ‘Besides, there’s no fun in strip poker with only two players.’
‘What you do in your own time is your business,’ Severus remarked, heading to the library.
Over the next hour, Severus discovered that while he might excel at many things he was spectacularly poor at poker. That or, as he suggested to an amused Lupin, the deck was charmed in its owner’s favour.
‘If you’re tired of losing, perhaps I could interest you in helping me wind some more yarn?’
‘Anything but this bloody game,’ he agreed, tossing down his cards with disdain. ‘Do remind me never to play the alternate version, no matter what the circumstances.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ He gave a hesitant smile. ‘You know, for a while, I was worried that you’d never speak to me again.’
‘The idea did have its appeal.’
While Lupin deftly wound the yarn into balls, Severus again attempted to be cordial. After all, there wasn’t much else he could do with his hands full of several skeins. ‘Have you been knitting long?’
‘Since I was a child. My mother taught me; aside from her believing that boys need domestic skills as well, she thought it would give me something useful to do when I was recovering from the transformation. I’ve done it on and off over the years, but only really picked it up again when I was trying to quit smoking.’
‘You, smoking? Good little Lupin the prefect? If I recall, you reprimanded me for the same thing on more than one occasion while we were at school.’
‘Former prefect, you mean, and yes I did. Most students went through the trouble of doing it well out of sight, but you always had to show off. I didn’t take it up until after Sirius went to Azkaban, but I did manage to quit before I started teaching.’
Severus nodded. ‘Just as well, since heavy nicotine use can interfere with the Wolfsbane.’ He himself hadn’t smoked regularly in ages, not since the end of the first war, and even before then it had been pretense more than habit. ‘Perhaps you ought to promote it as a habit-breaker -- Socks Not Cigarettes?’
Lupin’s laugh was hearty and his colour looked improved, though perhaps the glow was due to the heat from the fire popping away in the fireplace. ‘It might be good for the lungs but not that much better on the wallet, to be honest. I have to admit that I must spend at least twice as much on yarn!’
‘As you say, you can afford the nicer things now and quality does have its cost.’ At a pause in the winding, Severus stopped to run his fingers over the yarn draped across his hands. It was silky to the touch yet sturdy at the same time. He didn’t know anything about yarn, but he did know quality when he felt it. ‘This is very nice. Is it anything in particular?’
‘It’s a blend of silk, merino and alpaca, hand-spun and hand-dyed; nice stuff indeed. At five Galleons a skein, it certainly ought to be! My mother would have loved it.’
Severus spent a few moments watching the yarn slip across his hands. He was curious yet cautious about getting too personal with Lupin. ‘What was she like, your mother?’
‘Oh, she was something! Clever, talented, persevering. . .always had hope. Beautiful, too, though I suppose every child thinks their mother is beautiful.’
Thinking of the photograph of the young woman in the room upstairs, Severus had to agree with Lupin’s assessment. ‘Did she die during the war?’
He shook his head. ‘No, long after. No tale to tell there, I’m afraid, just an ordinary tragedy. It was a brain tumour; the Muggle doctors didn’t catch it in time and even our healers couldn’t do anything.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘That doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Lupin set the last wound skein aside and rose from the sofa, stretching. ‘Thank you for helping me, Severus. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head off to bed. I could use a good night’s sleep.’
Replying that he could use some rest himself, Severus accompanied Lupin upstairs, where each man headed to his respective room. Far from sleeping, though, the hours before midnight found Severus surrounded by books but still lacking answers.
The next few days passed in a fairly typical manner, with Lupin alternating between working, sleeping, playing host and generally seeming as if absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary. Severus kept a close eye on him just the same, making notes each day as to what he ate and drank, his level of activity and his energy. There was always the possibility that some kind of allergy or interaction was causing Lupin’s malaise and Severus was determined to uncover some kind of answer.
Aside from the thrill of the hunt for information, Severus was pleased by the chance to direct his concern away from himself and on to his self-appointed patient. It also provided a means for him to be around the man without admitting to himself that he found much enjoyment in their time spent together. His mind was willing and his heart was on the way there, but his body needed time and Severus felt it would surely be sabotaging any chance of proper intimacy if he could only offer one out of the three. For now, it was easiest to pretend his feelings stemmed from worry rather than anything more complicated.
How long Severus could have carried on with that idea would never be revealed to him, though, for reality again made an appearance that Thursday evening.
Lupin didn’t have to go into work the next day and Severus was anticipating a nice supper followed by another session of reading together in the library, as they’d done the previous three nights. He was therefore more than a little surprised when Lupin came downstairs not in his usual casual attire but in evening dress.
‘Going somewhere special, are we?’
‘I am,’ Lupin replied, fiddling with his cuff links. ‘There’s a fundraising ball being held tonight.’
‘First I’ve heard of it. Are you going alone or do you need me to get dressed?’
‘Neither, actually.’ He paused, looking at Severus with what came off as a mixture of pride and guilt. ‘I have a date.’
Severus pretended the books in the nearest bookcase needed straightening to hide his discombobulation. ‘How nice for you. I won’t bother to stay up, so do be a touch on the quiet side when you come home, will you?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Lupin said, giving him a half-hearted smile before heading for the door.
When he was gone, Severus took a moment to fume. He should have expected as much, really; he’d been a fool to think a man of Lupin’s current status would be content with the likes of him. No, there was certainly a younger, better-looking man waiting in the wings -- or perhaps a young woman, assuming Lupin’s bisexuality went beyond circumstances of coercion or sympathy. Why Lupin had led him on with charming words and seductive actions he could not comprehend; surely, all that Lupin had done for him could not be some elaborate joke and yet he couldn’t help but feel absolutely ridiculous.
The feeling of being a fool gnawed at him throughout the evening, making his supper taste like sawdust, keeping him from being unable to concentrate on reading the fifteenth-century botanical he’d finally been brave enough to open and preventing him from sleeping when he eventually tired of waiting for Lupin to come home so he could vent his spleen.
Well after midnight, Severus ventured downstairs to make a cup of chamomile tea and devour a few pieces of shortbread. Halfway through his snack, he heard the front door open and readied himself to deliver the verbal blast Lupin deserved, then paused when heard not one voice but two. It seemed Lupin had decided to add insult to injury by bringing home his latest conquest to show off.
A change of plan was in order. Severus composed himself to give an outward appearance of nonchalance and inwardly prided himself on having thought to change from his nightclothes to a casual robe before he’d left his rooms. He was the picture of casual unconcern when Lupin and his date entered the room, and the discomfited look on Lupin’s face made it quite worth the effort.
‘Severus! You’re still up?’
‘Back so early, Lupin?’ He sipped his tea, then added a little more honey. ‘I would have thought you’d be out all night. Was the quality of company not to your liking? And where is this date of yours?’
As if waiting for his cue, the individual in question stepped into the kitchen. ‘Remus, are you coming upstairs or not? I don’t have all. . . .’ Noticing Severus, he trailed off. ‘So this is your personal potions maker, is it?’
The look on Lupin’s face had pleased him, but the look on Damon Argiri’s face was twice as satisfying. Severus smirked.
Lupin acted as if they’d never met, for in a way they hadn’t. ‘Severus, this is Damon; Damon, this is Severus.’
‘I know who he is,’ Damon snapped, still eyeing Severus as though he were something particularly repulsive. ‘What I don’t know is why he’s in your house. Does the Ministry know you’re housing a -- ’
His voice cool, Lupin interrupted. ‘-- wrongly convicted victim of a smear campaign? They do indeed. Why don’t we go into the hall, Damon?’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Severus said as they exited. He sat and sipped his tea, nibbling on a few more pieces of shortbread while he tried to make out what Lupin and his little friend were saying. Whatever it was, it ended in a raised voice and a slam of the front door. Lupin came back alone, frowning. Severus waited until he’d made himself a cup of tea in order to catch him off guard. ‘How long have you been seeing him?’
Lupin turned to him, his shoulders tense and his expression contrite. ‘I had meant to tell you sooner.’
‘How. Long?’
‘On and off for the past few months. Mostly off,’ he added, as though that negated the matter.
Severus gave him a cold stare. ‘And all the while, you were pretending to cosy up to me. How very charming.’
Lupin sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead as if it ached. ‘Severus, I can explain.’
‘I think you’ve already made enough of an ass out of yourself this evening, don’t you?’ He rose from the table, taking his cup with him and, turning his back to Lupin, Apparated to his rooms.
Behind his door, securely locked and spelled for good measure, Severus indulged his fury by bringing the teacup and saucer into direct contact with the wall as hard as he could, shattering them to bits and spraying droplets of tea in all directions. With equal venom he cursed Lupin, cursed that pretty, spoilt brat of his and cursed himself for being such a fool. When he grew tired of anger, he placated himself with a nice glass of brandy and a hot shower. When even those remedies left him restless, he sat by the window to watch as the wind moved the branches of the trees outside in a dance under the weak moonlight.
It would be easy to allow his bitterness and resentment to drive him away once more, to refuse Lupin even the ghost of a chance and to quash any doubts as to what the future might have brought by making sure there was no future. Then again, leaving might make a point but it had never brought him much more than justification for his distress. There was cold comfort in righteous smugness and Severus was beginning to think he might at last have grown weary of the easy way out.