Title: The Gift

Author: izean

Rating: PG-13 for language, just in case.

Pairing: SS/RL if you really squint.

Disclaimer: So not mine. Please don't sue my arse.

Summary: Severus rejects a gift of friendship.

Lupin had come to him late one night in Potter's final year.

Severus had had an ordinary day, which comprised of Longbottom, exploding cauldrons, Potter, detention and Longbottom. Which goes to say that he wasn't in an exceptionally fine mood that night.

Not that he was in a good mood on any other nights.

But anyway, Lupin, the current Defense teacher (again, that lying, job-stealing bastard) had approached him that evening. Severus had retired to his rooms by the time of Lupin's visit, relaxing in his comfortable chambers after a long, hard day when the latter knocked. Severus took down his wards and looked down his nose at the smaller man.

Feeling his customary sneer slide easily onto his face, Severus drawled, "Well, well. A Lion in a Snake's den. Full moon's not for two more weeks, Lupin, or are you that eager to see me?"

Lupin smiled, as was his usual response. Nothing seemed to strike him down – it seemed that he was a particularly thick-skinned werewolf.

"Good evening, Severus. I have to speak to you regarding some matters," gesticulating to Severus's rooms, "May I?"

Severus glared at him suspiciously before moving back grudgingly, indicating for Lupin to step in. Which he did, with yet another of his positively infuriating warm smiles, causing Severus to itch with the desire to punch it from his face.

Or kiss him so hard that he would be too breathless to even smile.

Growling softly, he shoved the thought deep into his mind and walked to his cupboard. He extracted a glass and a bottle of brandy, allowing himself only a finger. For all it was, there was still school on the following day and he did not want to face those idiots with a hangover. He did not offer any to the wolf; it would be a waste of this fine vintage.

He sipped his brandy and fixed Lupin with a look, daring him to ask why he wasn't offered a drink.

"What do you want?"

Favouring him with a mild look, Lupin replied, "We're in the midst of a war, Severus." The man in question snorted. "A lot of things happened in our past that remains unresolved even till now and I would like to apologize to you."

Snape's relatively good mood vanished. Three things in the world no one dared to speak to him about and Lupin had to hit one of the nails on the head when the probability of doing so was three out of a million other things.

Not that it was any surprise, the irritating man.

Stalking over to his table, he slammed his glass and bottle onto it and walked towards Lupin where he stood near the door, watching his unfazed face. He continued forward until he had Lupin pressed back against the wooden door, breathing into his face.

"All those daunts were not enough for you? Seven years of fun at my expense wasn't enough? Scaring the piss of out me, literally, wasn't enough?" Driving me to the Death Eaters, causing me to live this wretched excuse for a life is still not enough? "So you think that by extending the olive branch, by giving me this so-called 'gift' of a friendship, I could put all of those behind? Tell me, Lupin, how would I know if you would laugh at this pathetic man who accepted your apology so easily? You are talking to the wrong person; it would work on fools like Black and not me." He stepped away from the silent man and turned his back. "Go cry on someone else's shoulder. Get out of here."

He heard the quiet 'click' of the door as he filled his glass and knocked it back. He refilled the glass once, twice, blast the students, countless times. And for the life of him, he could not remember why drove Lupin away.

Two weeks before Potter's graduation, an outright war began. It ended about a week later, on a full moon. It was during this final day that Potter had finally triumphed over the Dark Lord. However, the end was not a blaze of glory as many had expected – no, there were so many casualties on both sides that everyone was unsure of whether to celebrate or mourn when the end came.

Most did a mixture of both anyway.

Severus Snape had held on to life by a bare thread. He supposed he should be glad since he did manage to see the end of his spying career and the Twice-damned Bastard Who Just Wouldn't Stay Dead – until now, at any rate. Yet, heaven never did seem fair to him since his life was saved by a certain werewolf who leapt in front of the greengreenGREEN light of the Killing Curse.

So, Severus slipped past the celebrations to his rooms in the end, and nursed a glass of brandy. And he... mourned.

Fin.