Plot:
Harry Potter AU where Remus saved Harry from the Dursley's and is on the run from a manipulative and corrupt Albus Dumbledore who wants Harry under his thumb and raised in horrible conditions to A) be raised with a harder heart in order to be capable of murdering Voldemort and 2) have an extremely low sense of self-worth so that Harry will look to Albus as a savior who rescued him from his terrible family, thus making him more susceptible to giving his life for "the cause". Everyone and their mom is looking for Harry, and Dumbledore has made it so that Remus is cast as a villain, a dark creature werewolf who stole away the hero of the world. Remus' end goal is to rescue Sirius from Azkaban (which is styled in a much more muggle fashion than the basic dungeon trope you usually see) and make it to somewhere safe with Harry. Making friends along the way, it will be an adventure full of danger, comedy, unorthodox problem solving, and a jailbird Sirius who gets owl post in prison
Characters:
Remus Lupin, age 27. Wizard/werewolf, friend of James and Lily potter, 2nd in line to raise Harry should his parents die and Sirius be incapacitated, former Marauder. Low self-esteem due to his werewolf heritage (seen as 2nd class citizen, dark creature not to be trusted). Astoundingly resourceful wizard with a powerful magical core as well as heightened senses, speed, and strength, which gradually increase as the full moon draws closer
Harry Potter, age 7. Only child of James and Lily Potter, last living member of the Potter bloodline and heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter (Includes real estate, fortune, liquid assets. You know, rich people stuff). Can't claim inheritance until he is a legal adult which is when he is 17 years old. Raised by the Dursley's for 5 years, abused and neglected. Minor trust issues with everyone but Moony, and a rambunctious child otherwise. Loves skittles and stories/films about pirates.
Sirius Black, age 27. Friend of the late James and Lily Potter and Godfather to Harry Potter. Last living member of the head Black bloodline and heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Azkaban prisoner and shot caller. Darker than canon, more prone to violence due to having to survive his incarceration but still pure at heart. His illegal revenue at Azkaban involves procurement and smuggling of illegal items into prison for a price. Also has a side business as a fledgling tattoo artist (his art is atrocious but he tries).
Author's Note: Ok, so. This is my first fanfic EVER. I've been reading from this site since, like, 2003? I've dabbled in writing throughout school but never actually sat down and tried to write something. I figured fanfiction is a decent place to start, as the universe is already built so you just have to focus on your story structure and character development. A lot of what proceeds is subject to change, I'm mainly trying to see if this might turn into something if enough people like it. So please enjoy this random attempt, and remember that constructive criticism is much appreciated. Be gentle, and most of all, enjoy :)
Chapter One
A chill blew through the open window and caused the threadbare curtain to waft almost lazily in the moonlight. Dust motes in the air drifted through the room and blew across the nose of a sleeping child. The child, a boy of no more than seven years old, twitched his nose and almost sneezed himself awake, burrowing down deeper into the almost comically oversized coat he was using as a makeshift sleeping bag. As intimidating as the cold night was trying to be, it was no match for the comfort the coat was providing for him. The standard issue black leather bomber jacket with sheep wool interior was the coziest thing in the world to the boy, and his most treasured possession. The leather was worn, but sturdy, and it smelled old. But not in a bad way, it smelled old in the way a mahogany desk drawer might smell old. It smelled like pipe smoke and pine trees, leather and aftershave and night air. It smelled like his father.
A scratch emanated throughout the room, and a small light ignited in the far corner. A match was held to a candle and a soft glow emitted, silhouetting a figure crouched on the floor. A soft sigh was heard, and the figure stood, straightening up and leaning backwards at the waist to crack a sore spot in his lower back. Even standing straight up the man looked fatigued, time and weariness evident in the figure's posture. The young man in a shabby overcoat and worn boots held the candle and turned to look at the sleeping boy. A bit of the weariness left his face as he smiled fondly at the child. He left the room and crept down the dark hall. The matted rug and musty smell was off putting to say the least, and the creaks and moans would've set most on edge but the man held no fear in his heart for the creaky house. An empty house is an empty house. And when you're a werewolf, not much frightens you. He walked to the almost cavernous living room and sat on the squishy sofa. Despite the dust and apparent age of the abandoned house, the sofa was quite comfortable. He set the candle on an end table and looked out the window to a moonlit sky. A waxing gibbous. No, not much scared the man who gazed at the heavens. But a nearly full moon? Oh yes, that frightened him.
Birds were heard chirping as dawn broke over the bordering hills. The welcome light of day shined golden through the thin layer of fog, igniting the dew drops on the blades of grass like crystalline chandeliers, gemstones scattered across the land. The boy squinted his already closed eyes as the light crept slowly into the room and slid up onto his face, and he rolled on his side with a grumble, facing away from it. He almost achieved blissful oblivion once again but the incessant chirping of the birds was more than his fragile hold on sleep could bear. He cracked opened a vibrant green eye, still bleary from sleep, and glanced around the room
A creak in the floorboards down the hallway had Remus' eyes snap open. He sat up, alert and ready but a couple of deep breaths through his nose calmed him down. Harry's scent had reached his nostrils and grew stronger, making its way to the living room. A smirk christened his lips as Harry waddled into view, eyes still half closed in sleep, messy hair in even more disarray, almost frighteningly so, his slight frame dwarfed in the old jacket he loved to use as a blanket.
"G'morning uncle Moony" Harry croaked out after a rather large yawn. He looked into the werewolf's amber eyes and flashed a toothy grin before wandering into the kitchen across the sitting room. Remus had used some fancy spell work when they first found their current hideout. He transfigured a cozy table and chairs, placed a freezing charm and a stasis charm on the fridge after a deep scourgifying process and conjured basic kitchenware. Sure, the kitchenware would disappear back to wherever they came from after a day or so but he could always conjure more. After it was all said and done the kitchen turned out to be a cozy little haven in an otherwise dreary, abandoned house.
"You could have cereal and milk," Remus called to Harry as he stood, stretching his lean body and making his way into the kitchen.
"Or if you wanted to wait a tick, I could whip up a classic full breakfast," Remus finished with a knowing grin. Harry sat up straight and his eyes shined with contained mirth. Remus knew just how much little Harry adored breakfast food, full English's in particular. 'Could be eaten every day for every meal forever' if Remus recalled Harry's statement about breakfast correctly. Harry nodded his head in excitement and said he'd be happy to wait.
Remus nodded and flicked his wand towards Harry, casting a larger version of the bubble head charm around the kitchen table and leaned over the sink, unlatching the window and letting in the crisp morning air. Remus turned and leaned against the kitchen sink, fishing his crumpled pack of Lucky's out of the front pocket of his jeans and sliding a smoke between his lips. Harry's previous cheerfulness fell from his face a bit, and Remus almost rolled his eyes at his crestfallen nephew.
"We've been over this Harry," Remus mumbled around his cigarette, striking a match against his boot heel and taking a drag.
"I just wish you wouldn't," replied Harry looking down at the table in front of him. "It gives you cancer and Aunt Petunia always said how disgusti-"
"Hold on there, pup," Interrupted Remus. "You know that anything that beastly woman or her crazy family ever said is better left ignored." Harry smirked at that and Remus took another drag of his cigarette, savoring the smoke and exhaling through his nostrils.
"Besides," Remus continued, placing his free hand behind his head. "It's like I've told you a million and one times already, I'm a werewolf. Some things don't affect my natural healing ability, and cigarettes are one of them. I could smoke two packs a day every day and not have one health issue. And on top of that, we're wizards. Ordinarily much more sturdy than your average human," Remus said with a grin and a wink.
"I'll be fine Harry." Remus dropped his hand and turned his lithe body towards the boy. His sudden change in demeanor caused Harry to look up at his uncle, noting the gentle yet serious lines in his face.
"I won't get sick from these. It's like breathing air to me." Remus smile reassuringly to Harry. "I'm not going to leave you."
Harry gave Remus a small smile and nodded his head. Remus nodded back and snuffed his lucky out in the sink, turning to prepare a hearty breakfast for his growing ward.
An inconveniently loud buzzing alarm along with the grating of steel on steel was an unfortunate way to wake up every morning, but Sirius was sorry to say that he was getting used to it. He looked up from his rack and saw his cell door slowly opening. Two guards were making their way by his door, one peeking in to make sure he was up as they continued along the tier to do the same with the other inmates. Occasional banging of the guards' Billy clubs on the cell doors could be heard, along with a gruff 'wakey, wakey, hands off snakey' when an inmate had not yet been roused from sleep. Sirius swung his legs over the edge of his rack and stepped onto the chilled cell floor, his bare feet as accustomed to the chill of Azkaban Prison as his ears were to the loud buzz of the cell block opening. He was one of the few inmates who could eat, sleep, and generally spend his life in prison shoeless and shirtless, as his canine sensibilities made dealing with the elements much easier than it would a normal human. 'Animals just seemed to have an innate ability to form to whatever environment they found themselves in.' Sirius thought wryly.
Heavy boot falls clanged on the metal walkway of the 2nd floor tier pulling Sirius from his musings and alerting him of the guards' return.
"All inmates line up outside, you know the drill! Those racks better be made!" announced the mustachioed guard. He locked eyes with Sirius as he passed his open cell and they shared a brief nod.
"Fall in line and walk towards the chow hall! Move it!"
A long procession of inmates made their way down the tier towards the metal staircase and out the cell block gate. Sirius began tying his long raven hair into a high ponytail and smirked from his cell as a few of them shot him glares of jealousy as they passed, but they knew better than to say anything. Sirius had some pretty major pull within the confines of the ancient wizard prison, and not having to eat the slop in the cafeteria was one of the benefits. His in-house profession aside, Sirius' bloodline and reputation as a mass murderer and right hand to good ol' Voldy himself were enough to keep most other inmates at bay, and his reputation within the walls of Azkaban as being a ruthlessly cunning and gifted fighter kept the rest in line.
Sirius began stretching, and before long he was down doing pushups. He kept up a fairly rigorous calisthenics routine since he began his stint within Britain's Finest Bed and Breakfast, and his physique was a testament to that. Lean and powerful, Sirius trained his body as well as his mind to handle the harsh realities that prison life came equipped with. Sweat began to knead his brow as he moved on to pull ups from the water pipes that lined the ceilings throughout the prison. As Sirius' blood began pumping in earnest, he felt his mind begin to wander. It was a memory. One that he visited often, and seemed content to relive out of some sense of duty, the failure he was forced to face every waking moment.
The wind was whipping his hair back, stinging his eyes as the thunderous roar of his Dyna drowned out all sound. 'Please let them be ok. Please, please, please, don't let me be too late!' he begged, teeth clenching in a desperate snarl as he fell towards the earth through a low hanging cloud bank. His breath hitched in his throat as he passed through the veil of vapors and saw the town of Godric's Hollow spread out beneath him. In the distance to his right he saw it. Unmistakably black smoke curling up to the heavens, the orange glow of a fire marking for Sirius where his fears lay. He leaned the bike in the direction of the acrid scent and sped as fast as his magically enhanced baby could fly. 'James. Lily. Harry. Dear god, please, let them be ok. Let them be ok.'
Sirius dropped down from the water pipe, shaking his head clear of the memories. He took a few deep breaths, forcing the negative memories out of his head, knowing all too well what a build-up of negative energy can attract in the dark halls and bring right outside your cell door in the middle of the night. It wasn't just the sheen of sweat covering his torso that caused a shiver to threaten to trace itself down his spine. He stifled the urge and continued his workout, the memories he pushed away circling him, waiting for a chance to re-enter his psyche.
Remus let out a soft sigh and leaned back against the door frame, legs sprawled out in front of him. One leg was stretched out into the kitchen, the other hitched up on the concrete patch the led to the back yard, his elbow propped up on his knee with a lit cigarette in his hand. He always enjoyed a smoke after a big meal, and according to Harry, he outdid himself this time. He could hear water running through the pipes, smiling at the fact that Harry was showering on his own now. His cousin Dudley had played some horrible pranks on Harry in the shower when he was living with the Dursley's. Throwing a bucket of ice water on him, turning off the cold water main line mid-shower, scalding Harry's skin, rubbing down the floor of the tub with butter to make Harry slip and fall. That last one actually caused Harry to break his arm, his already malnourished body not ready to handle the strain of catching his full weight.
Ever the angel in his parents' eyes, all Dudley had to do was smile and say he didn't do anything, blaming Harry's "freakishness" on the strange mishaps. Petunia would wrap her perfect Duddykins in a hug, planting kisses on his forehead and Vernon would berate the freak boy about the cost of the hospital bills. Harry persuaded Remus to sit on the sink in the bathroom while Harry showered, his young imagination causing him to believe Dudley was around the corner, waiting to catch him unaware once again and knowing that his uncle Moony the werewolf could and would scare the tar out of anybody.
In the two years that they've been together, Harry had made strides in his confidence and self-esteem. He was still reserved, quiet to a fault but it was more out of observation than it was out of shyness. Harry was always watching. Gauging an adult's reaction was ingrained into him by his brute of an uncle, ever displeased at Harry's attempts to appease his familial warden. Remus wasn't sure how bad it actually was because Harry refused to go into detail, but he was pretty sure that Harry was beaten. Disciplined for sure, and the term 'excessively' would be a hell of an understatement, but he knew Vernon didn't strike the boy with a closed fist. But a leather belt left welts and put fear into the heart of an innocent boy, and Remus felt his anger rising. The low, rumbling growl of the wolf simmering beneath his surface.
Remus took another drag of his cigarette to calm himself and felt some of the rage dissipate. His thoughts of Harry's time at the Dursley's, as always, led to thoughts of Dumbledore. The old fuck. Remus' faith in the aged professor died with James and Lily, and Remus would give almost anything to rip the old man's head from his body. He was the cause of all the anguish in Remus' world. Well, almost all of it. Pettigrew would get his in due time, and Remus felt the bloodlust of the wolf rising. But his wolf knew that Pettigrew's death belonged to another.
A sharp pang accompanied that errant thought, And Remus was flooded with thoughts of Sirius. His anger towards Dumbledore multiplied tenfold when he thought about his last remaining friend wasting away in a prison for these last six years. It was tragic really. What was supposed to be the best years of the young adult lives of this close knit group of friends instead saw two of them murdered, one thrown in prison without so much as a trial to prove his innocence, and another, traitorous and cowardly as he was, hopefully wallowing in his misery on the run. That left Remus. Alone in the world, a second class citizen seen as little more than an intelligent animal. The pit of depression he fell into almost claimed his life. But that all changed 2 years ago, when Remus finally wised up to the old fool's manipulations. And the young son of a dear friend sparked a fire in the dying embers of the lonely werewolf's heart.
3 Years Ago
"Albus, please! No one else has the kind of pull that you do with Fudge!" Remus begged, trailing alongside the headmaster through Hogwarts' esteemed halls, making their way to his office. The ancient castle, once so warm and inviting, was nothing more than a constant reminder of what Remus had lost. Fond memories of the Marauders tinged with pain at how fractured their future had become.
"Remus, it's as I've told you before, more times than I can count now," Dumbledore replied, humor in his cello voice chiding Remus as though he were speaking to a particularly insolent child.
"There's nothing I can do. Sirius went after Pettigrew and killed thirteen muggles. It does not matter if it was a mistake, he broke the Statute of Secrecy. The Minister's hands are tied." Dumbledore finished with a confident smile. A borderline smirk, if you asked Remus.
"But Albus," Remus said in exasperation, "His wand was never tested for what spells were cast from it! Nor did he even have a hearing. Talk to Fudge! Get him to interrogate Sirius under Veritaserum. I'll testify as well!" Remus finished, stopping in the corridor and whirling to face Dumbledore. Dumbledore stopped and turned as well, gazing at Remus with those infernal twinkling eyes, barely bothering to hide a humor that Remus, for the life of him, could not fathom. He took a deep, shuddering breath and continued.
"Albus. He's innocent. He's innocent, for god's sake! Not to mention he's Harry's godfather! Petunia and Vernon are monsters, she was always jealous of Lily and Vernon made it clear how he felt about magicals when he tried to take a fireplace poker to James' head! There's no reason for Harry to live there, blood wards be damned! Grimmauld place is under enough enchantments to rival Gringotts!" Dropping his head, Remus continued. "If we get Sirius out then Harry will be safe, raised by people who actually love him." Remus paused, and shifted his gaze from the floor to Dumbledore's eyes. "I'm begging you Albus, talk to Fudge. It's been three years!"
"Remus," Dumbledore began, his voice now taking on a sense of scolding. "We both know that you would not be allowed into the Ministry's hearing chambers, nor anywhere passed the Atrium for that matter. No, we all know that Sirius was out to kill Pettigrew. I know it stings that Pettigrew is a hero in the public's eye for that stunt when you and I know the truth, but to stir up what's in the past will only cause civil unrest. The populace has been through enough, wouldn't you say?" Remus' incredulous stare was all the reply Dumbledore was granted, needing more than a moment to process Dumbledore's reasonings.
"As for young Harry," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the anger building in the young werewolf's gaze. "He will be absolutely fine with his relatives. Petunia is his blood, she will look after him well. I drop in at least once a month unannounced and check on him. He is doing fine. He and his cousin are being raised as brothers, living in adjacent bedrooms on the second floor in a rather nice muggle neighborhood. He is adjusting to life splendidly." Dumbledore was of course lying through his teeth, but he cared not. This petulant creature never ceased his abhorrent begging to rescue the scions of Houses Black and Potter. A few suffer so many can thrive. So what? It was how things were meant to be. For the greater good and all.
'Although,' Dumbledore thought, 'knowing about the Dursleys could become problematic if this foolish creature decides to take things into his own hands,' Dumbledore began to reason with himself. Almost faster than the eye could see, an obliviate was cast upon Remus and Dumbledore's wand was already tucked back up his sleeve.
'No memory of Petunia, Vernon, or their elephant of a child.' Dumbledore thought with a grin on his aging face. A grin that was replaced with a look of irritation a few moments later as Remus' unfocused gaze began to sharpen
"It's as I've told you countless times before, Remus. There is absolutely nothing I could do for Black. Harry is being raised in secret, away from all this hubbub and fame. My most trusted advisors are with him and he will receive private tutelage from me personally. Now, if that is all, I am retiring for the night. And Remus," Dumbledore said firmly, levelling his steady gaze on the young werewolf. "This is going to be the last that I hear of it." Albus turned towards his quarters, a malicious smirk spreading across his face.
Remus was left dumbstruck staring after Albus as he turned and walked up the staircase to his office, the gargoyle moving firmly in front of the entrance after he passed, effectively cutting Remus off from a rebuttal. Remus was dimly aware that they made it all the way to Dumbledore's office, but he was too caught up in what just happened for it to fully register. The gargoyle gave Remus a sympathetic shake of his head. Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the light and mentor to so many, was more than willing to let two innocent souls suffer for no good reason. The one chance Remus had to save the only two people left in the world that he cared for flat-out refused to help, and shut the door in his face. Remus was at a loss. He wasn't sure how long he stood there in front of that gargoyle but eventually his feet started moving. He strode through the halls of the castle towards Hogsmeade, the echo of his footsteps off the empty corridors mirroring the echo of the emptiness within himself.
Several hours later found Remus Lupin at the Three Broomsticks, completely hammered and attempting to woo Rosmerta the bar maiden with slurred adjectives and incoherent compliments. Rosmerta rolled her eyes. She knew it must be bad if the normally reserved and often too polite young man allowed himself to become so undone in a public setting, let alone become a womanizing vagabond due to the drink. Although it could be argued that comparing her hair to a summer's day while hiding a blush behind his hands was a far step from womanizing. Rosmerta sighed to herself, knowing how hard the handsome young man's days must be lately. She was only a few years older than him, being a fifth year when the marauders started attending Hogwarts. She remembered how inseparable the four boys were, how much they loved to laugh and get others to laugh as well. Spreading humor was all they seemed keen on doing, especially once the war took a turn for the worst. She also remembered how shy and studious this one was, nose always buried in a book, being tugged by the sleeve by James or Sirius to whatever new Marauder achievement they had in store. It was a shame to know that someone who could bear no ill will towards anyone was dealt such a dismal hand by the fates. She took pity on him, and exchanged encouraging words but as his speech became more and more incoherent she decided to cut him off. She discreetly pulled the bottle of Ogden's off the bar and stashed it below the counter. This became a common occurrence. A daily occurrence. And it went on for far longer than she cared to witness.
2 Years Ago
Remus shuffled onto the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron, where he stood bleary-eyed and reeking of Ogden's. He stumbled through the door and flung his arm out towards Tom the barkeep in what was meant to be a greeting but looked downright worrisome. Tom inclined his head towards Remus, concern lining his face.
"All righ' there, Lupin?" Tom asked, setting down the glass he was polishing and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Usual" slurred Remus, seating himself rather heavily on a bar stool and motioning to the bottles lines on the wall behind Tom.
"I don' think tha's a good idea. Why don' you sleep it off," Tom warned in a low voice, placing his hands against the bar and leaning closer. He had always felt sympathy for the young wizard. Bright and clever, always with his nose in a book. He knew the Lupins well, and was devastated when he heard the hushed news from Remus' father one drunken night after closing about what that psychopath Greyback had done. Such a burden on one so young.
"There's a few Aurors here. After havin' so many Death Eaters either escape or lie their way ou' of Azkaban, they'd love nothing more than to rough up a werewolf for the hell of it. You'd best be off."
Remus stared nonplussed at Tom and began to chuckle. His chuckle turned into a full on cackle, drawing the attention of the other patrons. Tom worriedly glanced around the bar but was suddenly seized by the collar and pulled in close to Remus' face. Tom got a closer view at the details of what Remus Lupin's life was like nowadays. His skin was pale, containing a waxy pallor. His unshaven stubble and shabby appearance, as though he'd slept in his robes for a few days. But most of all, Tom noticed his bloodshot eyes, devoid of hope. Eyes that were currently fixed on him.
"You think I give two shits about what some hack Aurors can do?" Remus questioned, a hard edge to his voice. He released Tom and looked over his shoulder at the rest of the bar.
"Can't even round up the Dark Lord's stragglers and third stringers. What a joke! Ministry's finest, ladies and gentlemen!" Remus announced to the crowd. Their mutterings were drowned out as one of the three Aurors sitting at a corner table suddenly stood, his crimson robes catching the firelight
"You want to repeat that?" The Auror asked in a menacing tone. He stood a fairly imposing figure, taller than your average man with the leanness of his broad shoulders prominent even through the thick material of the Auror uniform.
"Ah, sorry friend," Remus responded, turning in his seat to face them and raising his hands placatingly. "I didn't realize that the Auror corps. dealt in inadequacy. Deaf as well as ineffective, such a shame. No wonder you're failing at your job," Remus finished with a wry grin. By this time the other two had stood up and flanked the first Auror as he made his way to Remus.
"Now, gents, I must ask tha' you take it easy. This man has clearly had one too many and isn't thinkin' straight, Now come on, off with you. I'll see him out," Tom announced, attempting to pacify the situation. Every eye was turned to the four men at the bar.
"Why don't you shut it Old Tom," The first Auror replied. "This one here thinks he's a jokester." He leaned into Remus.
"Why don't you take this comedy act outside, funny man? Let's see if you're still laughing."
Fifteen minutes later found Remus being enervated in the back lot. He was leaning against the wall by the bins that lead to Diagon Alley. Tom was crouched in front of him, a stern look on his face as he ran rudimentary diagnostic spells over Remus. Through a swollen eye Remus could see a pair of slim black dragonhide boots peeking from beneath a deep black robe standing beside where Tom was crouched.
"Just as foolhardy as ever, it seems," drawled a voice in distaste that Remus knew oh too well.
"Severus," Remus replied with a wince. He gasped when he tried to use his arms to push himself up, feeling an intense pain in his upper right arm.
"Tuned you up good, I'd say," Tom stated, pocketing his wand after his diagnostics were completed. "Broken femur, broken collarbone, more bruises than I can count and your right arm is pretty much shattered. You happy?" Tom finished, disdain in his voice. "What were you thinkin', antagonizing 'em like that? Lucky for you Snape here was boarding a room upstairs and came down to see what the hubbub was all abou'!"
Remus looked up at Snape for the first time in almost ten years. He was tall, lean, and, as always, resembled a large bat. He grew into his hooked nose a bit and sprouted a goatee, but his hair was still greasy from all the potion fumes he no doubt dealt with. Snape stared right back, his arms crossed over his chest and his cloak as dark as midnight.
"Pretty eventful as far as reunions go, wouldn't you say Severus?" Remus asked, a humorless grin stretching his split lip. Severus curled his in disgust and drew his wand. Before Remus could blink his broken leg was bandaged in a splint and with a flurry of his cloak, Snape turned on his heel and walked back to the door.
"Best get a move on if you want that to heal by morning," Snape announced over his shoulder.
Tom looked at Remus and rolled his eyes then began helping Remus stand. Together they made it through the door, Remus ignoring the incredulous stares from other patrons, and up the stairs, Snape's door remaining open for them. Tom walked him through and gently deposited Remus into a chair that sat across from the desk that Snape stood at, the orange glow from a cauldron casting shadows onto the wall of the dimly lit room. Fumes and steam curled over Snape's shoulders as he ladled whatever it was he was brewing into a vial and turned towards Remus. He nodded at Tom, who nodded back and took his leave to tend the bar.
"One would think that nearly a decade after graduating from school, you would have learned to act like an adult by now." Snape stated, walking towards Remus and offering him the vial.
"Drink this. It's a pain reliever. You and I both know your condition will have healed you by morning, until then this will make moving about more bearable."
The bemused expression on Remus' face caused Snape to roll his eyes.
"It's not poison you nitwit, if I wanted you dead I would have left Tom to deal with you in the alley!"
"Still as charming as ever, I see," came Remus' dry response. Taking the vial from Snape, he paused before putting it to his lips. "Thank you Severus."
Downing it like a shot, he grimaced at the taste. Snape smirked, knowing full well that adding three crushed lavender petals at the end of the potion would make the end result taste like citrus and purposefully leaving this step out. Remus may have been the most cordial Marauder, but he was still a Marauder all the same.
The torment Severus received at the hands of the two unspoken leaders of the Marauders still resonated heavily with the potions prodigy. James and Sirius were a league of their own at school, even Snape could admit that.
"May I ask what prompted such a severe beating? As deserved as I think it may have been, it was a tad excessive," said Snape, easing into the other chair by his makeshift potions table.
"Self-deprecation," Remus stated plainly.
"Ah," answered Snape. "Does this have anything to do with poor little jailbird Black?" Snape asked, the mockery dripping from his voice. He smiled to himself, unable to resist the jab against his most hated enemy.
Remus' gaze at the floor sharpened and he raised his eyes to meet Snape's.
"Shut your mouth. I appreciate you helping me but you don't talk about Sirius like that," Remus answered in a dangerously low voice.
"Missing your boyfriend, are we?" Snape chided, his hatred of Sirius pouring through his eyes. "Black was always a fool with a cause, and he ended up in one of the two places that fools with a cause usually end up. I will not hold my tongue in regards to that bastard!"
In a dark cell on the 37th floor of Azkaban prison, Sirius sneezed.
"You can stop with the pity party, for you shall receive no sympathy from me." Snape continued, staring down Remus' incredulous gaze. "Your merry band always sought to make my life hell, Black in particular. He can rot for all the damns I give! Now," Snape said, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms across his chest. "What's this I hear of you turning into a dipsomaniac? You were one of the most studious back at Hogwarts, always coming in second in our year behind-" Snape broke himself off, remembering with a pang in his heart at who held the number one position in studies back then.
Remus lowered his gaze again, memories of his happiest days feeling bittersweet, as they always did.
"Lily," Remus finished, meeting Snape's gaze once again. Severus was the one to shift his gaze this time, looking to the side with a glare, hating the pitying look in the other man's eyes.
"You loved her, didn't you?" Remus asked, shifting in his seat as the potion began to take effect on his broken leg. Severus sat straighter in his chair, still avoiding Remus' gaze. "I don't know why I am asking. Of course you did. I always had a feeling."
"Everyone loved Lily, in their own way," Snape began after a few moments. "Even the most elitist in my House had respect for her. She was not only a prodigy, but a beauty with a kind heart. And a concerning knowledge of curses at her disposal," Snape remembered with a grimace. After their falling out, an exchange of harsh words sometimes evolved into an exchange of spell work, with Lily always coming out on top.
"Well said," Remus replied with a soft smile. He too remembered how dangerous the fiery haired girl could be when her temper was pushed past its threshold. "But that's not what I meant, and you know it."
Snape scowled at the floor, begrudgingly accepting the fact that Remus had hit the nail on the head. Thoughts of Lily came flooding into Snape's mind, memories he had kept locked away in a tiny little corner of his psyche, the guilt of his betrayal a secret to everybody but himself.
"She was the first person I ever met who was like me, besides my mum," Snape started in a whisper. He never knew someone so happy before. So full to the brim with light and life. Snape understood that magic meant power, and power meant the world to him. The beatings his own father gave, brutal and unprovoked more often than not, damaged Snape badly. He hated to feel weak, to be out of control of the situation. It was why he studied so hard. He knew that knowledge was a power all its own, and hungered for it ever since he was eleven. The complete lack of superiority he felt as a child, ever to be knocked down a peg or two by his bastard father, dissipated once he reached Hogwarts. But Lily, she was different. She was just…full of joy. She craved the knowledge that the ancient school had to offer as much as he did, but for her it was out of a sense of wonderment. She didn't intend to harness magic for the gains she could make with it. No, she reveled in magic in and of itself.
Remus' eyes widened at that revelation.
"My god, how could I have forgotten? You knew each other before Hogwarts, didn't you?"
Severus closed his eyes and simply nodded his head.
"She was my first friend. The first person besides my mum who I showed my magic to. She showed me hers as well." Snape continued as he shifted his gaze out the window, a wistful look in his unfocused eyes.
"I told her everything I knew about the Wizarding world, stories my mother had told me about it. I told her about Hogwarts and wands and unicorns and fairies." Snape let loose a sad chuckle and looked at Remus.
"She thought I was pulling her leg after the unicorn bit. 'Would be a dream come true to see a real unicorn,' she said. I told her they're almost impossible to catch, but that they were in the forest around Hogwarts. I've never seen a brighter fire lit in somebody's eyes before."
Remus cracked a smile himself, remembering how excited Lily got in fourth year after learning they would be covering unicorns in Magical Creatures.
"Her sister was a nightmare though. Petunia fucking Evans," Snape spat, and Remus got the impression that these were things Snape had never told anyone before. He continued in a rush.
"Mundane, useless, silly little girl. Thinking she was in charge for being two years older. Tagging along, threatening to tell their parents that I was a mean boy telling lies to hurt Lily." Snape's expression darkened at that. His fingers tightened on the arms of the chair he was seated in as he continued his story in a voice like serrated steel.
"Lily had had enough one day. Told Petunia she was just jealous that she couldn't do magic. Petunia slapped her. Hard. We were standing on a hill and Lily fell. She hit her head on a rock halfway down. I thought she was dead with the way she rag dolled the rest of the way." Snape paused here, and Remus sat wide eyed, waiting for him to continue.
"It was accidental, but I lost it. Seeing Lily get hit like that made me think of my-" He broke off again, and Remus furrowed his brow in confusion.
"The tree we were standing below had thick boughs. One snapped off the tree and landed centimeters in front of her. I've never seen someone so pale before. She ran home, and avoided me ever since. Never sent anything more than a glare my way." Snape took a breath and continued to look out the window.
"Lily was fine of course. She had a cut above her eyebrow but nothing serious. I told her what happened and she started to cry. Fighting with her sister was rare, but after her magic started to manifest Petunia had become insufferable. She thanked me, and told me I was her best friend. She…hugged me. First time anybody hugged me after mother died." The last sentence was spoken almost in a whisper, and Snape scowled after realizing he had said it, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
"I think that's enough with the pleasantries, Lupin," Snape finished, standing suddenly with a flourish of robes. The hard edge to his voice was back. Remus nodded, shifting his gaze and standing as well, testing his weight on the broken leg. He had to hand it Snape. The man was prickly as all hell but he truly was a genius.
"I can hardly feel it!" Remus exclaimed, moving forward a step, but rethinking a shaking of the hands. A bit too courteous for the once-adversaries.
"You don't say." Came Snape's wry response. He looked at Remus' hand hanging loosely by his side, pursed his lips and stuck his own hand out. Remus stared down at it dumbstruck for a beat, then gave a tired smile. He stepped forward and shook Snape's hand.
"Tom mentioned setting a vacant room aside for you, free of charge. It's a slow night according to him." Snape said. Handing Lupin a key with 102 etched into it.
"It's been a pleasure Severus" Remus said with a smile.
The faintest curve appeared for a second at the corner of Snape's lip
"Speak for yourself."
Remus turned with a chuckle, and stepped out into the hall. It certainly was an eventful day for the young man. Drunken bar fights, a strange almost-reconciliation with an old enemy, and a free overnight stay at the Leaky Cauldron. Remus entered his room and eased himself into bed, the events of the day leaving him feeling exhausted. He closed his eyes as he let his mind drift, a soft smile caressing his lips. The instant before he fully nodded off, his eyes snapped opened. "Petunia fucking Evans. Petunia. Fucking. Dursley."