Title: the invisible line
Rating: R
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Warnings: unbetaed, post-DH.
Word Count: ± 2,050 words.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just borrowing them for my twisted means.
Summary: maybe one day we won't need to stay in the dark.
Note: This week is the Wikipedia!Redux challenge at snape100 community. I clicked on random and I came across the wikipedia entry for Temposhark, an English band. I've never heard of them before and tried to look for their songs on Youtube. Too engrossed in video-browsing I forgot all about why I was looking for more information in the first place. Two days on, I came across this mash-up, a mash-up between the sublimely beautiful La La Human Steps ballet and Temposhark's It's Better to Have Loved. Drabble all but forgotten, this story came into being. The title of this story is Temposhark's debut album title. I also tried to keep as close to the canon as possible, so apologies if this veers deadly into AU. I'll try to remedy this too! Thank you to anyone who sets aside their time to read this. Comments and criticisms definitely, definitely welcome.
1. I would have stayed
Remus was on his back, staring at the window and at the dark moonless night beyond. It was always dark, always moonless; the only time they'd ever meet, it seemed.
"Then, this is it," the person next to him said. So Remus turned his head sideways. He saw his sometimes lover next to him, shrouded in the smoke from the cigarette between those pale, potion-stained fingers. Smoke billowed around them, clouded them from each other's vision. Or maybe it was just Remus, his eyes heavy with sleep. "This is it." Voice, deep and dark velvet, drawling from somewhere within those smoke.
And smoke filled Remus's lungs, stopped any words from coming out.
This is it, Severus's voice echoed in his head, long after the man had left. He left only smoke, and the hazy mirror beyond reflected Remus's dejected stance back to him.
The smoke that Severus left lingered, vanishing slowly as time ticked by. Remus reached out, thrusted his fingers through the smoke, and watch thin white grey veil disperse around his fingers.
It's just the smoke, damned smoke gets in my eyes all the time, he told himself; he could not stop his eyes from prickling, could not stop something that felt like tears welling up.
So he slept and dreamt. Echoes of Severus's voice in his head, the smell of smoke on his fingers. He thought he'd slept for a day, two days, a thousand years. But the world was still as similar as it ever was, as if he'd never slept.
And when he left their secret hideout for the last time, their scents lingered.
But that too, shall vanish, just like the smoke, just like their memories.
He walked down the dark alleyway, head down, intent on the cobblestones underneath. Wet, he thought, it must've rained last night. A gust of wind blew, he pulled his cloak tighter around him, hunched his shoulders even more, curling into himself as he walked slowly, past the early morning crowd frozen in their steps, past the newsstand.
They'd had a conversation, him and Severus, not so long ago. He had asked Severus to stall, to wait -- they'd find a solution to this. "Nobody had to die!" Remus had exclaimed vehemently, trying to find a logical solution for all this mess they were in. Severus had looked at him with those eyes of his, as if Remus had grown a third head. Severus had shook his head, whispered something like the inevitability of life, and pulled Remus down to bed.
Severus then made him swear, extracted a promise from him, done everything short of forcing an unbreakable vow upon him. "Keep your mouth shut, keep your head down, take that chit away, and have a million puppies." Severus had said, had reminded him again and again.
Remus didn't have to read the headlines to know, he didn't have to see the people's eyes to understand.
How suddenly the whole world can change overnight. Killer. Murderer. Traitor. How suddenly the whole world knows your name.
---
The next time Lupin's eyes met Snape's, it was through the lifeless animation on the front page of the Prophet. Lupin was as he ever was, Snape was Hogwarts Headmaster. Both prisoners of a different kind, tied to different worlds and different realities; a gulf of unmentionable things separating them, neither Altair nor Vega to guide them.
Lupin tried to convince himself that the drops he saw falling on Snape's face were raindrops. Rain on a bright sunny day. It's happened before.
2. The sky is drained
The war was won. He slept for a long time. Next to him, Dora slept also. Somewhere beyond, Teddy would be sleeping with his grandmother keeping vigil.
Something was missing, Remus thought as he woke up in the dark. And the dark pulled him back to sleep before he could point out what was missing.
---
Harry came to him one bright morning, tired, but with the sun behind him. From his room Remus could see the blue skies outside. And if he tried, he could hear the birds squabbling for grains in the back garden. But he kept his eyes fixed on Harry.
Harry sat in front of him, Dora next to him, and he listened to Harry talk. How Harry had gone to King's Cross, suspended between life and death; how he'd met Sirius Black ("Sirius said hello, by the way," Harry said with a small sad smile). Hermione, the Weasleys, everyone, and even the Malfoys featured in Harry's tale. Over brunch, lunch, and tea time. Harry talked of the Aftermath, the Before, and the Everything-in-Between.
All the while, he listened to Harry, he listened to Dora, and he listened to Teddy's occasional wailing. He heard Andromeda in the room next door, he heard the noise from the street outside.
He looked out of the window and the sky was unchanging blue. Everything should be perfect, he thought, but there was something missing. But even as Harry finally left after dinner, and night finally arrived to usher him back to sleep, he still could not say what it was that was missing.
A niggling at the back of his mind. A word or two on the tip of his tongue. Those never did went away.
---
He didn't know what those were, until one day Harry called again, bearing gifts for everyone, especially Teddy and Andromeda.
Harry took his seat in front of him again, though this time Dora was not beside him. And Harry talked, hesitant at first. Harry spoke of the Shrieking Shack, of memories leaking out of Snape, of his mother in Snape's eyes, of what he had learnt, and of what was still missing from the Headmaster's Wall.
Remus stared at Harry, and then turned to look out of the window. From his vantage point the skies looked as blue as it was days ago, yesterday, and possibly tomorrow.
"Snape's a hero now," Harry said though Remus was only listening with half an ear. How suddenly the whole world can change overnight. "An Order of Merlin. First class." But Remus paid him no heed. How suddenly the whole world sings your name.
3. The things you taught me to admire
He watched Teddy grow. He smiled when Teddy gurgled happily, he laughed when Teddy laughed. He clapped when Teddy learnt how to sit, crawl, then wobbly walk.
He worried when Teddy fell prey to colic. Those nights Remus would fall into a restless sleep.
One night, he dreamt of a moonless night. In his dream, it was dawn or thereabouts. A shadow of a man came to him in a flurry of robes, with irritation that clung like second skin. I'm sorry I'm late, the shadow said unapologetically, Flitwick's cousin's son had colic and somehow I ended up helping them. In his dreams, he hugged the other man and led him inside. In his dreams, Remus held the man in bed, and the man recited in his sleep: bark of hop bush, finely shaved; the outer layer of a mango's seed, chopped then ground; honey and warm water; handful of peaberries finely crushed. In his dreams, Remus chuckled as the man in his arms unconsciously chopping invisible ingredients in his sleep.
Remus woke up in the morning with what seemed to be an ache in his head and an ache in his heart. He told Andromeda to go to the Apotechary. He watched Teddy recuperate. He rejoiced as the boy laughed and smiled and was happy once more. Though he couldn't understand why the ache in his heart lingered.
He watched the seasons change. He noted how the leaves of a certain tree would turn fiery earlier than the others; he noted how others had their leaves fighting for the longest purchase against bitter December wind (and those leaves, Remus recalled, were useful additions in pain potions; not essential, but useful to have).
At night he dreamt of a man, a shadow with no name, always shrouded in smoke that smelt like tobacco and clove and other things he couldn't identify.
He had long stopped asking if anyone knew of this shadow, but he had not stopped hoping to dream at night.
Is it better to have loved, or none at all? he had asked the man asked one night. In his dreams they sat side by side on a hill, their eyes fixed at the stars above, a nameless glittering city spread out in the valley below. Love? the man had replied. This is not love.
It was always dark, always moonless; the only time they'd ever meet, it seemed.
When morning arrived, his dream would vanish behind a curtain of hoarfrost. Other times he woke up just as the two of them watched a city burn in front of their eyes.
4. All we've done
They slept side by side, him and Dora, in darkness so complete that it chased all reality away, all noise and memories.
But one night, the door at the far side of the room opened, and a long line of light filtered through. Lupin opened an eye, squinted and scrunched against the sudden brightness.
Then, noises. He peered and waited for the door to open wider. And it did, after a tick and a tock and a half-tick of the clock.
Black hair, with glasses that glint in the hallway light. Spun white gold hair that reflected light like a soft, unearthly halo.
"Careful, Potter!"
"Look who's talking, Malfoy!"
And the two of them stepped fully into the room and Remus couldn't stop himself from asking. "Excuse me. What on earth are you two doing here? At this time of night?"
"Oh, you're awake," Harry said and Remus wondered why Harry sounded so surprised. Did the boy think that he's being quiet?
"Of course he's awake!" Draco Malfoy hissed in annoyance. "You're so loud you could wake up the whole neighbourhood."
"As if you weren't?" Harry asked back.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin," Draco said, ignoring Harry. "We won't be long."
And Remus watched as they heaved something onto the wall next to him and removed the sheet from over it. Remus watched as the boys fussed and squabbled. Remus held his tongue as the boys stood back and admired their handywork.
"Well," Draco said at last, looking at Remus squarely in the eyes. "Our job here is done." Draco didn't wait for Remus to say anything, but turned around to leave. "Come along then, Potter," Draco called from the doorway, "we've better things to do."
Remus thought he saw Harry blush, but it might be his imagination.
Then suddenly it was dark once more, though only for a while, as the door opened again, and Harry peeked in. "Oh, sorry!" Harry said and made a small Lumos ball. "We don't know where Andromeda keeps all her candles," Harry said before finally leaving, closing the door behind him.
---
Remus stared at the door for a long while.
He then turned to look for Dora but she wasn't anywhere to be found. He looked around, as his eyes adjusted in the light, and found empty picture frames. All the portraits seemed to have left.
All but one, it seemed.
The one that Harry and Draco brought in.
The one that hung next to him.
The one that was now looking at him as if he'd grown a third head.
"What are you looking at?" An amused smile appeared on those familiar lips. "You're welcome to visit my frame anytime." A sly invitation a long time coming. Remus would've jumped out of his canvas if he could, surprised to hear that familiar voice of his dreams.
And yet this voice he didn't quite recognise. Sly, unburdened, free.
Remus looked away, at the window with the curtains drawn aside. It was a dark and moonless night, as always.
He looked back to the portrait in the frame next to him. He studied those familiar eyes, painted in the same depthlessness, communicated the same cleverness.
This time there was no smoke, nothing to cloud his vision, nothing to close his throat. And yet words refused to come out, died somewhere at the tip of his tongue.
"Dunderhead." Amusement. Affection. Warmth.
Not like always, but maybe now for always.
"Severus," he said finally as memories tiptoe across the empty spaces in his half-consciousness.
Outside, the world woke up to greet the dawn.
---
