Of people wrapped up tight in the things that will kill them.

The table is set. The players are chosen. The wait is all that's left now. Anxious eyes meet across the overcrowded table stuffed with mismatched chairs and mismatched people. A Death Eater and a werewolf flanked by professors, a curse breaker, aurors, a thief, mothers, fathers, children. All poised to be heroes, to be martyrs, to die on the field of the Dark Lord's choosing. Snape's eyes drift to the threesome holding secret court at the end of the table. Their bodies turned in, heads dipped close together, and their voices low. The brightest witch of her age shakes her head at the boy who lived and the youngest brother. These are the backs upon which most of the burden will fall. His chair legs scrape loudly across the worn wooden floor. as he pushes away from the table. The noise wakes the others from their daze. Life moves forward once again. Food and drink replace a table once filled with papers and plans and war. A manic cheerfulness overtakes the conversation, but a stifling sense of urgency punctuates the belly laughs at remember-whens and days gone by. Faces red with laughter transform easily into faces flushed with tears. A mother observes her children with wide eyes and a tearful smile. She retreats and they follow like little ducklings escaping a storm. Snape nods, almost imperceptibly, at the man seated across from him. The man returns his motion with a small smile. Confident that he will follow, the dark haired man drops his napkin onto his plate and rises to his feet. Propelled by his own sense of exigency, he strides from the room.

Snape lingers at the foot of the stairs. He reticently surveys the scene unfolding in the kitchen and suppresses a surge of emotion at the vision of a mother with an armful of her children. The sensation of Lupin's hand settling on his wrist pulls his focus. Snape shrugs Lupin off. He begins the climb to the third floor with Lupin trailing closely behind him. As they climb, the hum of noise from downstairs tapers off, leaving just the quiet sound of creaking stairs and breathing as accompaniment. Lupin's hand rests on the small of Snape's back as they shuffle down the corridor towards the small room at the end of the hall. Snape murmurs the password to Lupin's room. He steps back and allows Lupin to cross the threshold first. With the door shut and locked, he turns to face the other man.

"Do you want to read tonight or shall I?"

"I believe it's your turn." Remus answers as he kicks off his shoes.

Severus eyes the book resting on the bedside table. "We aren't going to finish."

"We should have started earlier." Remus' lips twist with a familiar wry grin.

Severus sneers, but his eyes are warm. It's an old argument. He tosses Remus his nightclothes from the dresser. "I'm sorry I was preoccupied risking my neck to save the lot of you."

Remus catches the clothes with ease. "Preoccupied basking in misery, you mean." He strips down to his skivvies and pulls on his pajamas.

"There are times I forget how simple you are, but then you open your mouth to speak and I remember."

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Remus asks with mock seriousness as he settles on the bed.

Severus snorts and pulls his white tee over his head "Why would I need to seduce you? Everyone knows you'll give it away for free."

"Stories of my sexual promiscuity have been wildly exaggerated. It wasn't an entire quidditch team, just the offense. I have standards." He waves his hand between the two of them. "Not that you could tell by my current choice of bedmates."

Severus' eyes glittered. "Oh is that right? I wouldn't have thought that prematurely aging werewolves could do much better than the very dregs of society." Severus plumps his pillows and stretches out next to Remus.

"We prefer to be called individuals experiencing lycanthropy and you aren't the very dregs of society." Remus grabs the book from the bedside table and passes it to Severus. "What's less than the dregs of society?"

"Individuals exceedingly passionate about puppetry." Severus offers wistfully.

Remus presses a kiss against Severus' thin lips. "Sick bastards."

Severus returns the kiss and runs his hand through Remus' hair. They part. Severus' hand lingers on Remus' face. "His summon could come at anytime."

"I know." Remus kisses him again.

Severus pulls him closer and deepens the kiss. He breaks away breathless. They rest forehead to forehead. "I would ask you to not be a hero, but I know you're to you to listen." He resettles in his spot.

Remus sits flush against him. "I'd say the same to you, but I know you wouldn't listen either." He twines their fingers together.

Severus reaches for the forgotten book with his free hand. He cracks the book open and begins to read. "A Journey in the Dark. 'It was evening, and the grey light was again waning fast, when they halted for the night. They were very weary. The mountains were veiled in deepening dusk, and the wind was cold. Gandalf spared them one more mouthful each of the miruvor of Rivendell. When they had eaten some food he called a council.'"

Severus continues into the night. Remus rests heavy on his shoulder. They alter their positions, but stay for the remainder of the night in contact with one another: A hand on a hand, on a knee, Remus' head on Severus' lap, Severus' fingers tangled in Remus' hair.

As the sun rises, Severus reads,"'Then shouldering their burdens, they set off, seeking a path that would bring them over the grey hills of Emyn Muil, and down into the Land of Shadow.'" He finishes his voice rough with use.

The book tumbles from his hand onto the ground. Remus stirs on Severus' chest. He rubs at weary eyes. His hand drifts up Severus' chest. "I guess we did finish." He pulls the other man down for a kiss.

Severus responds by holding Remus closer. His hands venture downward grazing Remus' groin and moving slowly up again. Remus groans and re-positions himself to straddle Severus. They move together in a slow progression of intimacy in an attempt to draw every last moment of pleasure and closeness from this encounter. His dark mark begins to burn as they lie side by side in the early morning light. The call goes up from downstairs. Voices echo in the hall. The day has come.

"We'll find each other when it's done."

"When it's done."

And with one last kiss the deal is sealed and the day begins.

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