undunoops (undunoops) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2011-01-10 23:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: r |
Fic: And Sometimes Darkness, part 7, SS/RL, R
Title: And Sometimes Darkness, part 7
Author/Artist: undun
Rating: mature/adult content, R
Pairing(s)/character(s): Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Nymphadora Tonks, Harry et al.
Summary: After the War against the Dark Lord, some are left behind. Not forgotten by everyone, as Severus Snape finds out.
Disclaimer: Not-for-profit fan creation.
Warnings: I hate warnings. There may be unpleasant stuff in here. There, that’s it. Anything else would be a spoiler.
Notes: A story that didn’t begin its life as an AU, but is now certainly in that category.
Words: 1,877
ETA: Sorry, guys -- that was the unedited version of chapter 7 that went up. Replacing with the real deal now.
7. Down Falling
Looking back, it was obvious that he and Tonks had been an ill-fitting pair from the start; funny how no one apart from Remus had thought so at the time. When Severus had asked him later on the night of the disastrous takeaway why they had split, he tried to answer in a more thoughtful way, to look beyond those obvious differences – which had always been there and not necessarily precluded a happy match.
“We drifted away from each other. It happened gradually once Voldemort was defeated.” He’d paused, trying to recreate the sequence of events. “The urgency was fading; less and less time spent searching for Death Eaters and more time attending parties and pubs,” he’d explained, “Suddenly we were finding ourselves at different parties, different pubs; she had her friends and, apparently, I had mine,” he’d finished, shrugging in the flickering light emanating from the fireplace.
“Ah, the age difference,” Severus had offered.
“That was certainly a factor, but I think it was more a difference in interests; we never shared a focus on what we wanted to do after the war – beyond sleep for a year, of course,” he’d said smiling, then continued, “One morning we woke up next to each other wondering what the hell we were doing sharing a bed. But it was the only time we connected; the rest of our days, and most evenings, we spent apart.”
At that point he had experienced delayed surprise that Severus had asked such a personal question. Perhaps more surprising had been his own willingness to open up and answer as truthfully as he could.
After that he had gone to bed, in the same room as Severus, and had most certainly not intended to lie awake for two hours puzzling over Tonks’ mystifying farewell.
Today being Saturday he was expecting the odd visitor or two. After his experience of Tonks’ visit the night before his hopes weren’t high that his small circle of friends would widen itself to include one Severus Snape. But Remus had made his decision; other people would accept it or they wouldn’t – it was out of his hands.
He poured more tea from the pot, only half an eye on what he was doing while most of his attention was focused on the front page on The Weekend Prophet. It bore yet another trashy headline article about the increasingly hard-to-spot Harry Potter. He had half a mind to feed the scurrilous rag to the kitchen fireplace, but decided to skim through it in the spirit of ‘know thine enemy’. There was lurid speculation on the poor boy’s love life, which included a strangely unimaginative reiteration of his broken engagement to Ginny Weasely (and, unlike the week before, no mention of an unhealthy obsession with goats), wild theories on what particular mental illness he had contracted, and, to cap it off, a list of banned potions to which he was supposed to have developed an addiction. Remus chuffed noisily over his teacup.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Here,” he said, throwing the paper over the table in Severus’ direction. “The gentlewizards of the press are at it again – when will they leave the poor boy alone for Merlin’s sake?”
Severus frowned down at the article.
Belatedly Remus realised that Severus might not exactly be the most sympathetic audience for the trials and tribulations of Harry Potter since for most of the Harry’s existence Severus had thought he was a spoiled brat. Remus massaged his forehead waiting for the sarcasm that would surely follow.
“The sacrificial lamb,” Severus murmured, flipping the page to read the end of the article. “I take it none of this is true? I have been somewhat out of the loop of late.”
“Well,” he’d just begun when the doorbell rang. “Ah. Visitor,” he stated.
“Shall I–”
“No, Severus,” he ordered, holding up a hand. “Stay here, finish your tea. Honestly,” he sighed, rising to answer the door, “start behaving as though you are a free man and not a criminal hiding from the law!” he complained over his shoulder.
Half turning back, Remus waved a hand at the newspaper on the table. “And… the bit about breaking up with Ginny is true. Nothing else,” he finished, opening the door to see Harry’s bespectacled face regarding him. It was a good, solid door – he was quite sure that Harry hadn’t heard him, nevertheless his enthusiastic bellow of “Hello, Harry!” sounded a bit forced even to his own ears.
“Hi, Remus,” the boy returned his greeting, “ I hope it’s not too early to drop by, it’s just I have this mob outside the house and if I’d stayed at home any longer there would have been blood in the street.”
“No, no, we were just finishing breakfast. Come in, come in.” He ushered Harry inside, peering behind him at the two suspicious characters – one with a camera and tripod hanging from a shoulder strap – that lurked at the corner of the road.
Harry walked past him towards the kitchen and Remus muttered “Accio wand,” holding his hand backwards – in the manner of a relay runner waiting for his baton – without taking his eyes off the reporters. As he felt the slap of his wand in his hand (a mere second after a startled yelp from Harry in the hallway) he was silently shaping the incantation.
He smiled grimly as the camera case developed teeth and started to chew on the first reporter’s cloak, while the tripod unhitched itself from its shoulder strap, extended its legs and took off after the second reporter. “Good job,” he complimented his wand, giving it a pat before tucking it in his belt.
He caught up to Harry only to see him standing stiffly in the kitchen staring at Severus, who, predictably, stared right back.
“Harry?” he quizzed the boy with a frown, but received no sign of a response.
After a few seconds he realised that they weren’t exactly just staring and his wand was starting to feel quite warm against his hip.
“What the bloody–”
His wand slithered up out of his waistband and flew across the kitchen to Severus’ suddenly outstretched hand.
“Fuck,” Remus hissed in surprise, moving his hand almost unconsciously in an attempt to follow his wand. Perhaps he’d better just wait and see what would happen next.
Harry’s breath was coming quick and Severus’ hair looked damp, clinging to his forehead and the sides of his face; he could see the gleam of his crooked teeth through the man’s restrained grimace.
Remus waited.
Harry breathed heavily with a faint sobbing wheeze on every other exhalation. Severus’ hand trembled while holding Remus’ wand pointed at the boy. Just at the point when Remus was debating whether to tackle one or the other, Severus dropped the wand on the table with a loud groan and tilted forward to join it, his head touching down with a solid thump. Harry staggered backwards as if let loose from an invisible rubber band, and then he dashed past Remus with an apologetic “’scuse me!” Remus heard retching from the direction of the bathroom.
“Severus!”
Holding the Severus’ shoulders Remus tipped him slowly against the back of the chair. He pushed the sweaty strands of hair away from Severus’ face and, snatching up the tea towel from the table, blotted perspiration from his forehead. Remus’ hand cradled Severus’ skull carefully as he studied the man’s slack features; he was out cold. Reassured by the throbbing pulse visible at temple and neck, Remus moved to support Severus more securely, using his wand to move a chair in close beside the unconscious wizard; he was fairly certain that he would regain consciousness within a few seconds. Sure enough, as Remus listened to Harry’s retching peter out and stop, Severus stirred and moaned faintly.
“Easy, my friend; you blacked out for a bit,” Remus cautioned.
He waved his wand at one of the kitchen cupboards and brought down a tin of chocolate. He always had some handy; hard experience had knocked the habit into him over the years. He broke off a piece one-handed, the other arm still around Severus’ shoulders.
“Here, try and get this down – it’ll help.”
Severus man shuddered and opened his mouth obediently and Remus popped the square of chocolate inside for him as Harry reappeared at the kitchen doorway.
Remus knew his face was probably stiff with repressed anger as he studied the boy easing wearily into a chair. It was all he could do not to drop Severus and lunge across the table at Harry.
Harry braced his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Sorry, Professor,” he murmured miserably.
For a second Remus thought he was apologising to him, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Severus’ eyebrow rise slightly and realised that Harry was actually using Severus’ title, wonder of wonders!
“What the hell was that about?” Remus demanded, swinging his gaze from one man to the other.
“He felt the need to inspect my credentials,” Severus began, leaning forward suddenly and divesting himself of Remus’ physical support. “I saw no reason not to oblige him,” he finished with a faint echo of his usual sneer. Unprompted, he broke of another piece of chocolate, then pushed the tin across the table to his erstwhile adversary.
Harry finally looked up and seemed to focus slowly on Remus. He put a large piece of chocolate in his mouth and shrugged as if to say ‘Sorry, can’t speak with my mouth full’.
“Harry!” Remus objected. He sighed and decided to calm down; Severus and Harry seemed stable enough right now – no outright hostility. Perhaps this was simply how they functioned in the same room post-war; a challenge, a response, and eventually an armed truce.
Remus sighed in frustration. He would have cheerfully banged their heads together, only Severus had already managed that when he’d hit the table earlier.
Harry had finally finished his piece of chocolate. He peered out at Remus from under a tangle of dark hair; it had grown even longer and more unkempt since the last time Remus had seen him. There was something a little disturbing about the way he looked – he briefly wondered if there was a small grain of truth to the newspaper’s claims about Harry’s mental state.
“It was my fault, Remus,” Harry muttered, “I cast Legilimens the moment I saw him.”
“But why?” Remus demanded. He was careful not to shout, but he knew his own voice sounded hurt and confused, as if Harry had attacked him, not his houseguest.
“It’s what I do,” the boy whispered in answer, “I didn’t know he’d be here and… I forgot about his pardon.”
Remus felt the hair on his neck rise and a growl lurking under his skin.
“In the Professor’s absence,” Harry nodded with odd courtesy at Severus, “I’m the best Occlumens available to the Ministry,” he said without a hint of hubris. “The MLE calls me in to conduct discreet interrogations on captured Death Eaters. Apparently, I’m beyond the taint of corruption.”
Severus snorted without any humour. Remus couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment; where the hell had Harry been when Severus was in the clutches of Aurors gone suddenly Dark?
~~~^~~~