Omni (omni_sama) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2009-09-25 13:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: pg |
Fic: A Reunion of Sorts (PG, part of the Patronus Series)
Title: A Reunion of Sorts
Author: Omni (aka rip_von_christ...ME)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Lupin/Snape
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, just the situation in which I'm placing them.
Warning: None, really. Aside from it being like most of my fics, and un-betaed. ;)
Series: The Patronus Series
Story 1: Expecto Patronum!
Story 2: Not a Wolf
Story 3: Symbols of Rome
Story 4: Points of Contact
_____________________
There was no message when the owl delivered the refilled bottle, nor did the bird stick around long enough to receive one from Remus. Had he said something wrong in the last letter he sent? Was Severus angry?
That thought plagued him for the days leading up to the full moon, distracting him to the point that he scalded himself on the pot he used to heat Teddy’s bottles. He also managed to break one of only two tea cups he had that were not cracked or chipped (which reparo, thankfully, saved), tear yet another hole in one of his patched-up robes (that reparo could not salvage), and stick himself with one of the pins for Teddy’s diapers. He was letting Severus drive him mad, which he really shouldn’t do, but he had no idea how to overcome it. The best he could think to do was to write another letter, and send it back with the bottle. At least he hadn’t managed to alienate Severus to the point that he’d stop making the potion. That was something…
On the day of the full moon, as Remus was waiting for Harry to arrive to pick up Teddy, he penned another letter. It was considerably longer than the previous ones, but he felt he had so much to say, and so few existing words with which to say it.
Dear Severus,
I seem to have offended you in some way with my last letter, if your lack of response is any indication. I’m sorry if I did, though I don’t see how.
I don’t know what you want me to say. How many times can I say I’m sorry? In how many ways do you want me to say it? Do you just want me to state plainly how I feel?
I love you. You know that, though. You must. I have felt this way for such a long time that it is merely a part of me, of who I am.
I made a mistake with Dora. I was weak and selfish and stupid. And hurting. And angry. So very, very angry. I think I wanted to hurt you, which is rather odd, since I was also thinking that you surely didn’t care for me at all. People become irrational whenever they are faced with that kind of jarring shock, especially when there is war and death all around them. Wartime always results in hasty marriages and desperate couplings. It brings out an instinct inside of us to seek comfort and companionship, so that we know we aren’t alone…that we’re safe. It’s a false comfort, yes, because we were never safe, no matter whom we were with.
But please don’t misunderstand that. You were never just some wartime comfort to me. Dora was.
Are you upset over my marriage? I feel you must be. I see it in your words. Then again, it could just all be my wishful thinking. If you were upset, then it would mean you do care. I can’t begin to tell you how happy that would make me. Not the upsetting you part…but that you care.
Tell me what I can do to make amends. I want to see you again.
Always yours,
Remus
It was soppy and sounded too desperate, but he really didn’t know what else to write. He supposed he could have written something more subtle, and continued this dance they were playing. The problem with that notion was that he felt he quite lacked the patience to maintain that for too much longer. Then again, it could have just been the tug of the full moon which was serving to make him feel so restless.
Harry arrived just as Remus finished washing the potion bottle, so he set it down beside the folded letter in order to let the boy in. Last month, Harry had also come to take Teddy, but this time he had a concerned, almost frightened look about him when Remus answered the door.
“Something wrong, Harry?”
The boy seemed to cringe a little and his green eyes were skimming around in an aimless search. “Not sure how to ask this…or…how to… Remus… Slughorn told me…” Closing his wandering eyes for a moment, Harry took a breath, then faced the older man with determined bravery. “Is there a reason you’ve chosen to stop taking the Wolfsbane potion?”
Oh, was that all? Remus relaxed, chuckling a little as he moved back towards the table. “I haven’t. I just get it from a different supplier now. A better one.” He ran the tips of his fingers along the beautiful glass bottle, his lips unconsciously curving into the most tender of smiles. “Severus sends it to me.”
“Snape?” Harry was across the kitchen and beside him in an instant, looking from the bottle to Remus’ face. “He’s contacted you, then? Do you know where he is?”
The smile died and Remus reached for the packaging paper and twine as he shook his head. “He doesn’t say where he is, and the only way I can get a hold of him is through the delivery of the potion bottle. His owl will be here tomorrow to fetch it.” Scarred fingers hesitated before he wrapped the bottle and note. “Would you like to include any sort of missive? I’m sending a letter of my own…”
For a second, Harry’s eyes lit up with excitement, but then he was frowning, drawing a line between his brows. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”
A sympathetic smile wrote itself across Remus’ face, and he rested a hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “Just tell him what you think of him. Tell him that he’ll be welcomed if he decides to return.”
Harry nodded, shallowly at first, but then with enthusiasm as the idea seemed to grow and bloom inside his brain. “Yeah, alright! May I borrow some paper and a quill?”
“By all means.” Remus made a sweeping gesture towards the table, where his supplies were still laid out. “I’ll just go make certain I’ve got all of Teddy’s things together.”
Harry was folding his letter by the time Remus returned from the bedroom with Teddy and the packed diaper bag. “Just set it down next to my own, and I’ll wrap everything up together,” said Remus, his eyes on his son as he addressed Harry. Teddy was cooing happily and patting his father’s chin with his tiny hand. It made Remus smile, a warmth and contentedness swelling inside him that amazed him every time.
“Thank you so much, Remus,” Harry said, approaching them and holding his arms out to take the tot. “I’d been going mad trying to figure out how to contact him.”
As soon as Teddy was transferred to Harry’s arms, Remus began to miss him, inducing a deep sigh. “No need to thank me. Really, it is I who am in your debt. I’m sure there are other things you’d rather do these nights than take care of a baby.”
“’Course not! He’s my godson, yeah? It’s my duty and honor to take care of him. Besides, he can be pretty cute when he’s not stinky.”
---
Again, there was no reply from Severus.
The bottle came the following month, but no letter accompanied it. Remus was beginning to lose hope, fearing that perhaps the desperation and forwardness of his last letter had gone too far. Perhaps he should have continued with more subtlety, slowly easing Severus back out of his hiding place and into Remus’ life. He’d been a brash fool, and now he was dealing with the consequences of his actions.
If only the consequences weren’t so damn miserable!
The morning after that full moon saw Remus sitting forlornly at his kitchen table, potion bottle neatly wrapped and waiting. There was no letter enclosed for Severus, since Remus feared that he’d only make it worse by saying anything more. Bags beneath the man’s eyes spoke of weeks with little sleep, and not simply because he was raising a baby on his own.
When the owl arrived, Remus hardly looked at it, and merely shoved the bottle sulkily across the table. He really should have remembered that the bird hated to be ignored, as the thing trilled at him reproachfully.
“Sorry, sorry,” he offered, looking lazily up at it with a smile he didn’t feel. That’s when he noticed the letter in its beak.
Worn wood skidded noisily against polished wood as he jerked up in his chair, nearly knocking it away from the table. He could swear the owl was laughing at him as it dropped the letter and clicked its beak. As he picked up the paper, he was distantly aware—and pleased—that his hands weren’t shaking at all. It was a small scrap, folded in half, and inside it merely said three words: As you wish.
Confused for only a moment, Remus quickly rose to peer out the window. There! Just where the tree line started! There stood a man clad all in black, staring at him, or at least in his direction (he was too far for Remus to clearly see his face). “Severus,” he whispered, a disbelieving smile slowly working its way onto his lips.
A moment later, and he was bursting from his cottage, running across the uneven hillside as if he were six and Severus Snape were Santa Clause. Of course, he wasn’t six, and his worn-out joints decided to remind him of this fact. Halfway between his house and his former lover, Remus’ right knee gave out with a painful twist. Cursing, he crashed to the dewy grass in an embarrassingly undignified manner.
Severus was suddenly there at his side, black fabric pouring over the ground around him like oil as he kneeled. “Fool,” he chastised softly, gravel now marring his once velvety voice. Not that Remus cared too much if Severus’ voice had been changed due to his injury. He only cared that Severus was actually there, and that this was real. “You aren’t as young as you used to be, and let’s not even get into how foolish it is to overexert yourself that way the morning after a transformation.” Severus kept his voice quiet, his dark eyes focused on Remus’ leg and never once venturing towards his face.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Why Remus was apologizing to Severus for having hurt his own damn knee, he had no idea. It just felt like the right thing to do, he supposed. Really, his brain wasn’t quite functioning at full capacity. He blamed the sleep loss. Or maybe it was due to the feel of Severus’ hands on his calf, sliding his tatty brown robe up along his leg. Yes, perhaps it was that.
Severus’ long fingers finally reached Remus’ knee, and he gently pressed along the swollen joint. A sympathetic hiss escaped Severus’ parted lips, his fingers constantly in motion. Such sweet, delicious motion. “Why didn’t you tell me your joints were having these issues? I could have adjusted the potion accordingly.”
“Mm?” All pain was gone now, washed away by Severus’ touch and warmth and scent. When those black eyes finally locked with Remus’ own, looking sharp and serious, he realized that he’d better snap out of his daze. “Oh. I… Well, I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“Bother?” Severus narrowed his eyes, but his fingers started to slide further up along Remus’ leg, splaying so his palm now made contact, as well. “I’m making this potion for your benefit. If it is in any way lacking, I’m not doing my job right. You must tell me these things, Lupin, if I am to make a proper potion.”
Even though he wanted to continue staring into those eyes he had missed so much, Remus could feel his eyelids slipping closed, the further along Severus moved his hand. It was quite obvious that his knee was no longer being inspected—if it ever really had been, and wasn’t just some sort of pretense. Oh, how he hoped it was some sort of pretense. “Sorry. I’ll never keep anything from you again. Ever.”
Fingers kneaded his thigh as a reward for those words. “See that you don’t.”
“Professor?!”
Harry’s voice shattered the moment like a bludger through a stained-glass window. Severus kept his sneer to a minimum, and slowly slid his hand back down to Remus’ knee, but did not end the contact. “Mr. Potter,” he acknowledged with just a trace of the old disdain. “How interesting that you fail to call me that until such a title can no longer be applied.”
The young man had been running, but his pace suddenly slowed at those words and he looked down rather guiltily. “Sorry, sir. Shall I just call you Snape? Or can I call you Se—”
“Snape will do. I suppose it would be too taxing for you to use such an honorific as ‘mister.’ Besides, we wouldn’t want to break tradition, would we? No reason to start treating me with more respect, now.” Severus’ hand left Remus’ knee, and he rose to his feet in a fluid motion that was accentuated by the drape of his robes. Before Remus could become too sad over the loss of contact, Severus was extending his hand to him in aid. “Come on, old man.”
Amused, Remus took the offered hand and together they pulled him to his feet. “I think you’re actually older than I am, you know.” Severus had been pulling rather hard, however, and Remus stumbled forward a bit. Luckily, he was caught and steadied by the dark-shrouded man, who even wrapped an arm about his waist as extra support.
Those black eyes that he’d been missing for so long were now merely inches away, and seemed to be somehow brighter without changing shade at all. “Technicalities, old man, I assure you.”
Remus laughed, feeling almost giddy and weightless. It seemed so unreal to not only have Severus here, but to hear him speak with humor and familiarity. There was no longer the weight of a war and obligations pressing down on the man, and Remus was amazed at how it seemed to change things. His delight had him leaning forward, intent on welcoming Severus back properly, but he was suddenly turned towards his house. And a rather confused Harry. He’d forgotten Harry was standing there.
“Let’s get you inside, Lupin,” Severus half-murmured near his ear, his arm still around him for support. “Lean on me if you need to.”
He didn’t need to, but he leaned, anyway.
“Did you hurt yourself, Remus?” Harry seemed to just realize that something must have happened to Remus. Or, really, the young man seemed to have just realized that Remus was even there.
“The fool was careless,” Severus offered as a reply. Remus felt a slight increase in pressure from Severus’ fingertips against his hip, and an ever so subtle shift that seemed to almost be a covert caress. “I’ll have him fixed up relatively quickly once we get him inside and off his feet.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Shall I help…?” Harry moved towards Remus’ other side, but Severus shook his head and practically jerked Remus forward and away a few steps. At a loss, Harry shied back and followed awkwardly.
Once they were inside, Severus ushered Remus to a chair at the kitchen table. The owl was still there, and it made an almost catlike purring sound when it spotted Severus. Its owner smiled ever so slightly, and ran a long finger along its smooth head, scratching behind one earlike tuft of feathers. “Good boy, Mort. You may go home now.” With another rolling purr, the owl turned and made for the open window.
“You named your owl ‘death’?” Remus asked in amusement as he watched the bird fly away into the grey morning sky.
“Oh please, I’m not that melodramatic. His name is Mortimer.”
Harry hovered like a specter at one end of the table, as Severus went about wordlessly conjuring bottles and setting them in some sort of order. No sound came from the bassinet against the far wall, so Remus assumed that Teddy was fast asleep, despite all the activity happening around him. With any luck, the child would stay that way for a while longer. Even though there was a bit of a crowd, Remus was enjoying all of the attention Severus was bestowing upon him, and he had no desire to have it interrupted anytime soon.
“Snape, I was wondering,” Harry said tentatively, forcing Remus to look away from Severus’ fingers on the long bottles, and Severus to look away from his cataloguing. “You read my letter, right?”
Nothing was revealed on Severus’ face, nor even his eyes, and that sent a strange little bell of alarm off in Remus’ head. “Of course.” Seeming to consider the discussion closed, Severus looked back at the bottles.
He was in the process of passing Remus a dark blue one with a peeling label, when Harry spoke again. “Well, it’s just…you never replied. So, I was wondering if you could maybe...perhaps...reply now?”
“I’m rather busy at the moment, Potter.” Remus was even more shaken by the way Severus’ eyes stared unseeingly at the bottle in his hand.
“I know. It’s just… You understand how hard this is for me, yes?”
“Potter.” Suddenly there was a glacial chill in Severus’ eyes and tone, and he spun to face the boy. “I promise you that I will discuss the contents of your letter, but at a different time. Seeing as how the subject matter is a rather private issue, I’d rather our conversation be one-on-one. Surely you can appreciate the necessity of that.”
Cheeks reddening—but from either embarrassment or anger, Remus couldn’t tell—Harry diverted his gaze towards the hardwood floor. “Of course.” A second later, he was directly facing Severus again, his green eyes seeming overly bright. “Maybe you could join me for dinner at my house this evening?” Severus must have made some sort of flinch or twitch, because Harry’s tongue tripped over itself in a rush to correct some sort of error. “I’ve seen to it that all of Moody’s booby traps have been undone, so there’s no risk for you to enter. Oh! But you don’t really like that place, right? Well, we could meet elsewhere… Is there a restaurant you’d rather go to? Perhaps the Leaky Cauldron? Wait, you might not want everyone knowing you’re back…of course, of course. Well, maybe we could—”
“Grimmauld Place will be fine. I’ll arrive at around seven.” Dismissing the boy again, Severus turned back towards Remus. He frowned at the still full bottle in Remus’ hand, and gave him an arch look until the werewolf took the hint and downed the contents. “At the moment, I am visiting Lupin.” The words were directed towards Harry, but Severus didn’t even glance that way again, content to return to his bottles as he determined what to dose Remus with next.
Thankfully, Harry took the hint. With a few more awkward stammers of agreement, the boy was on his way out the door. Once they were alone—a sleeping baby hardly counted—Remus reached out and set his hand against Severus’ hip.
“It’s good to see you,” he said softly, watching Severus’ profile while the man continued to fiddle with bottles.
“Well, I didn’t want to keep getting flooded with your soppy letters, so I figured the best way to shut you up was to give you what you want.” There was no venom to the words, only a sarcastic humor that had Remus chuckling.
“Everything I want?”
Severus’ body suddenly went stiff as if he’d been flash-frozen, his fingers resting on the cork of a blackish green bottle. Instincts told Remus to remove his hand from the other man’s hip, but instead he curled his fingers and clutched at the fabric of the black robes. The humor was gone from the atmosphere around them, replaced by something strained and painful and mildly terrifying. Such a sudden switch made Remus feel slightly dizzy, and more than a little frightened.
Slowly, Severus unfroze, and passed Remus the new bottle. “Take this. The first one was for muscles, and this one is an anti-inflammatory for your joints.”
Obediently, Remus drank the potion down and handed the bottle back. “Severus.” His fingers still clung at Severus’ hip, and he tugged at the cloth in order to demand attention. “Severus, look at me.”
Almost reluctantly, Severus did.
“What’s wrong?”
As if on cue, Teddy made drowsy little noises, and his bassinet shook a little as he turned in his sleep. Remus saw Severus’ eyes glance that way, and he saw clearly the shadow that passed across the man’s features. Fingers released black fabric and slowly slid away.
“Are you going to tell me that he’s the problem?” There was a dull, almost hollow quality to Remus’ voice. It seemed to startle Severus, who gave him a searching look before turning back to his bottles. “Don’t you dare try to make me choose between you two.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. A child should have his parents…or at least what he can have of them.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Problem with what?”
He didn’t know if it was the magic of the potions, or merely a byproduct of his adrenaline-pumping anger, but Remus didn’t even feel a twitch of pain as he practically jumped to his feet. “Don’t play this shit, Severus. You’ve been suggestively affectionate with me since you arrived, and now you’re suddenly pushing away. Why?”
With an angry wave of his hand, Severus banished the potions and whirled on Remus. “What do you want from me? Things are different now.”
“Yes, there’s no war, so we’re free to—”
“Free?” The scoff in Severus’ voice brought Remus up short, and his teeth clicked painfully closed. “You have a child. Unless all you want is to shag, no strings attached, then things are a bit complicated at present.” Black eyes turned to look out the window, the early morning light striking them and bringing out the hidden tones of rich brown. “What is it that you want from me, exactly?”
That seemed to be quite the loaded question, and Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to answer it. He wanted whatever Severus was willing to give him, of course, but likely he also wanted so much more. He supposed that until that moment, he’d just assumed it was a simple matter of getting Severus close again, and then everything would fall into place. Perhaps some part of his psyche had harbored fantasies of spending the rest of his life with the man, in something akin to wedded bliss. Selfishly enough, he hadn’t even considered Teddy and his complicating role in the matter.
Sinking back into his chair, Remus ran his hands over his face and tried to keep a headache at bay. “I don’t know,” he said from behind his hands. “I’d suggest we maybe start something from scratch, perhaps go back to the beginning and have a proper progression of a relationship. See how that goes… But, I don’t know if I’d be able to pretend that we hadn’t already been so much more.”
“Had we?”
Remus looked up sharply at that, but Severus was still staring blandly towards the sky. “I’d like to think we had.”
Severus’ jaw tensed for a second, and then his eyes lowered their gaze so that they were aimed somewhere towards the center of the table. “I’m having dinner with Potter this evening, as you know, but perhaps tomorrow I could stop by here again? I could even supply the food.” When he turned to finally face Remus again, his face was mostly his usual stoic mask, except for a strangely vulnerable flicker of hope playing in the murky depths of his dark eyes. “Perhaps we could try the courtship route. Who knows…I might change my mind about offspring.”
As if compelled, Remus rose to his feet and closed what little space stood between them. “I’d like that very much,” he whispered, a smile flickering across his face like a faulty light bulb. “You’re always welcome here, Severus.”
“How’s your leg?” Severus asked, though all his attention seemed to be on Remus’ very close lips.
“Could probably use another massage.”
“Oh?” Remus loved it when Severus raised a single eyebrow like that, and the little smirk that inevitably would accompany it.
“Yes. And perhaps a few other areas, too, which have developed quite an ache.”
“Are you saying my potions weren’t enough?” The amusement was poorly masked, but Severus seemed determined to try, anyway.
“Your potions are always the best, but I think I might require something more.” Hoping it was alright to do so, Remus lifted a hand to caress Severus’ cheek and slide back into his hair. “I’ve missed you.”
“So you keep saying.” He grabbed Remus’ wrist and gently directed it away from his person. “I should go.”
“You don’t have to.”
Teddy made tiny groans of wakefulness, and Remus knew that in a moment there would be cries for food.
Severus met his eyes, and the pain within them was so clear that Remus felt it within his own soul. “Yes. I do.” He slowly released Remus’ wrist and stepped back. “I’ll stop by early tomorrow evening.”
Before he could turn away, however, Remus grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around. In a lightning quick motion, the werewolf leaned in and stole a kiss. Remus found he couldn’t pull away, however, as Severus’ hand had somehow gotten buried in his shaggy brown-grey hair. Not that Remus was complaining, mind. No, he smiled and leaned in for another press of lips, this time taking it slowly. Indulgently.
When they finally parted, the smile on Remus’ lips died at the appearance of such bald pain in Severus’ expression. “Good-bye,” Severus murmured, and even those words seemed to hurt as if they were accompanied by shards of glass up along that still-healing throat.
Remus had barely uttered his reply when Severus was already disappearing out the door. A loud pop punctuated the literal vanishing, and worked to startle Teddy the rest of the way into wakefulness.
Unsure exactly what to feel, Remus went about distracting himself with his daily routine.
_________
To be continued