So I'm sitting, rereading Prisoner of Azkaban and minding my own business, when this rather rube plot bunny bites me on the ass. I know, I have a bazillion works in progress going right now, but here's what you have to understand. I work best in pieces and while I'm focusing on more than one thing at once. So, here we go. SSRL, courtesy of a rather devious Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: If I owned, I'd be blonde, in my forties, rich beyond my wildest dreams, and British. As I am a brunette, not even twenty yet, suffering from the plague that is college debt, and American, I think it's safe to say I do NOT own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Slash. Cussing.

Pairings: SSRL, mentioned HPGW, RWHG.

Also, this is AU, being that Remus and Severus…died (insert author's miserable tears here) and in this story they are, in fact, alive. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she? AND Remus never got with Tonks. She…uh…she just was there and then she…died. Not that I have anything against her! I don't! I actually rather like her. But, for the purposes of this story, she didn't fall in love with Remus (totally don't blame her for doing that, btw) and she was just a character who was, you know, around. And stuff.

Chapter One: In Which Harry Potter Proves He Can Read People

Post war life was not at all what Harry Potter imagined it would be.

Quite the contrary, actually; his life before had been riddled with mystery, danger and, well, purpose. Not to say that he didn't see the point to living any more, oh no, Harry Potter loved being alive. But now, after Voldemort's fall and all of his heroics were…over and done with, so to speak, he felt that he lacked a goal. Becoming an Auror had even lost its flare as something he was working for, he knew the Ministry would certify him even if he failed every single one of the qualifying tests, he was the Boy Who Stopped the Dark Lord after all, and fixating on it the way he had Voldemort's defeat just didn't give him the rush he wanted.

No, Harry Potter needed a new goal, a new purpose. He needed to find something to work for. Preferably, something difficult.

Ron and Hermione didn't share his sentiments. They didn't miss the puzzles, the questions, and the near constant peril. They were content with sitting beside the fire in the loud, crowded, and welcoming Gryffindor Common Room doing homework, relaxing, enjoying each other's company, working to pass their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Living normal lives, they called it. It was all rather ridiculous. Even Ginny, who had actually been understanding when he'd first confessed his growing need for something important to do, was growing tired of his constant scouring of the Daily Prophet, his stalking of Draco Malfoy (He'd had probable cause to believe that the Slytherin was up to something. Draco had been making multiple, suspicious visits to the Room of Requirement, something Harry had noticed in October while obsessively staring at the Marauder's Map, looking for something, anything, unusual. Only after Harry had actually followed the other boy into the room did he discover that Draco was dating a fifth year Slytherin girl named Astoria and wanted to keep his private life out from under the magnifying glass the rest of Hogwarts had pinned him under.) and his persistence in writing Kingsley Shacklebolt and asking if any known Death Eaters had slipped under the Ministry's radar and, if so, what was being done to catch them. She'd taken to setting fire to the Prophet before he could open it, writing to her parents about his "questionable mental state", and just plain hexing him when he commented on how dull it had all become.

Really, the lack of support from his girlfriend and best friends was starting to grate horribly on Harry Potter's nerves. But if they weren't with him on this, then he'd just do it himself. He'd find something to do, something that would help at least one person in this new, peaceful world.

He was Harry Potter for Merlin's sake and when he set his mind to something, he'd bloody do it, with help or without it.

--

It happened two weeks before the Christmas holidays, on a Saturday.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were standing in the entrance hall and Hermione was performing a clever little thawing charm on their wet, snow laden cloaks, pants, and boots. Hagrid had invited them down to his hut for tea that morning and, to Ron's unending horror, it had turned into an engagement planning session due to Hermione and Ginny's enthusiasm when Hagrid had mentioned that he was thinking about buying Madame Maxime a ring. Harry, unlike Ron, who hated simpering, romantic conversations, had found it all rather amusing and oddly sweet, as by the end of it, Hagrid was blushing furiously and had plans to bring Maxime on a lovely date that started in the Three Broomsticks and ended on the top of the Astronomy tower during the full moon, where he would get down on one knee and ask for her hand. He was very happy for Hagrid; the poor man had suffered enough in his life. He deserved a happy ending as much as the rest of them.

Several students were milling around, either drying themselves with the same charm that Hermione was using, or eating toast or crumpets they had taken from the Great Hall earlier and chatting with friends. Harry leaned back against the wall as Hermione aimed her wand at his feet and felt a curious, gentle warmth begin to spread from the tips of his frozen toes upward.

"Hello, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione."

Harry looked up to find a grinning Remus Lupin striding towards them across the hall.

After the war, Harry had been very worried about the position the last father figure he had would be in. Despite the fact that he was a war hero, Remus was still a werewolf and, as that was unlikely to change any time soon, he would still face the same prejudices and outright hatred that he had pre-war. However, Minerva McGonagall, the newly confirmed Headmistress of Hogwarts, had laid his fears to rest by asking Remus to take up his old mantle of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as her first act as head of the school. The werewolf had accepted without protest, to Harry's immense relief, and, four months into the job, had never looked healthier. Or happier, for that matter.

"Hello, Remus," they chorused in reply as the professor came to a stop just outside the puddle of slush Hermione's charm had created around them. He ran a quick eye over their damp exteriors and lifted an eyebrow.

"Why'd you go out in this?" he gestured to the large, fogged window behind them, which offered an excellent view of the snow covered grounds and the steadily falling flakes that were adding to the two feet that had fallen the day before. Ginny grinned.

"We were visiting Hagrid," she explained, sounding rather giddy, "He's going to propose to Maxime."

Harry, who had looked up from his now dry pants just in time, swore he saw something strange pass through Remus's eyes in the second before he smiled and replied, "That's wonderful. I will have to remember to congratulate him at dinner tonight." He blinked, staring hard that the professor, but there was nothing but warm contentment in those blue-gold eyes now. Whatever he had seen, whatever that moment of strange darkness had been, Remus had covered it well.

But that didn't mean Harry was about to forget about it.

"Where are you off to?" he asked quickly, as Ron was opening his mouth, undoubtedly to comment on the sickening sappiness of it all.

Remus smiled weakly and, Harry's heart leapt, there it was again. Harry couldn't remember ever seeing such a dark look in Remus's eyes before and yet there was something strangely familiar about it. Something wistful. Something sad. It was back for a fraction of a second before the werewolf covered it again, "I was on my way to see Severus. You know," he lowered his voice slightly, casting a quick glance around them at the chattering students, "the full moon's next week and all."

Snape, who had somehow survived Nagini's brutal attack (Harry suspected that Fawkes had had a hand in it, though he had never been able to confirm it), had been McGonagall's second appointment as Headmistress, as Slughorn had decided that teaching in wartime had done away with any and all love he had had for the job and had retired. Harry had to admit he wasn't really all that upset about it, Snape had been surprisingly civil to him for the past four months. He'd even stopped taking ridiculous amounts of points from Gryffindor for ridiculous reasons. In some ways, though Harry would never admit it out loud out of principle, post-war Snape was actually a decent teacher.

"Oh," Harry continued to hold Remus's eyes. The professor, who Harry knew could read him like a book even without Legilimency, stared back mildly. There was an awkward pause before Ron, who loathed such pregnant silences, cleared his throat nervously.

"Er, Harry?" he said slowly, "We should get going…you know, the Charms essay?"

Remus broke the little staring contest and nodded to Ron, "Yes, I should be going as well. Severus does not like to be kept waiting." The sad look was back and this time Remus made no attempt to cover it. The wistful gaze was starting to seep into his voice. There had always been a definite heaviness to the way Remus talked about Snape, Harry had noticed it before but he had never thought much of it. He'd always assumed that Snape's shameless animosity was the cause, as Remus had tried from the moment he'd returned to Hogwarts to be polite and friendly to the surly Potions Master and had received nothing but dirty looks and snide comments in return. And yet now Harry got the feeling that he had been very wrong in making such an assumption, though he couldn't put his finger on why.

"Bye, Remus," Hermione said hurriedly as the werewolf turned away, concern evident on her features. Ginny, too, hadn't missed the droop in Remus's mood and even Ron was staring after him uncertainly. Remus glanced absently over his shoulder back at them and smiled in such a horribly forced way that Harry's stomach began to twist.

"Yes, see you all at dinner."

The four of them watched Remus as he cut through the packs of talking students in a straight line to the door to the dungeons. To eyes that didn't know him well, he would have appeared to be in a perfectly cheerful mood, but Harry, who liked to think that he and his father's last living best friend had gotten very close in the past five years, could see it in Remus's slightly stooped posture and the way his arms hung limply at his sides: Remus Lupin was obviously depressed. And Harry would be damned before he didn't find out why.

But just as he was making plans to try to weasel it out of his professor, Harry got his answer in a flurry of arms and legs and surly Potions Master.

--

It wasn't that Remus hated romance; it was just that he didn't like talking about it. And it wasn't because he was jaded, or bitter, or just didn't believe in it. It was the fact that he'd never have it himself and, if he was being brutally honest with himself (something that was very rare, to say the least) he was jealous of those who did.

And so when Ginny Weasley had mentioned that Hagrid, the half-giant, just-as-much-as-an-outcast-as-Remus-himself Rubeus Hagrid, was going to propose and had a very real chance of getting married…well, to say it instantly destroyed his decent mood would be the understatement of the century. He'd tried to hide it from the four teenagers and he'd thought he was doing a good job of it, too, right up until Harry had started staring at him in a way that could only be described as suspicious.

Of course, he thought bitterly as he picked his way across the entrance hall, Of course Harry would be able to read me as well as James. Of-sodding-course.

And then the horribly perceptive boy had had to go and ask where he was off to, which had reminded him that he would have to face Severus and soon. And this, naturally, had only pushed him deeper into his momentary depression, as Severus hated him quite passionately and Remus…

Well, he certainly didn't hate Severus, he never had. Quite the contrary, he'd secretly always been very drawn to Severus, despite the other man's obvious animosity and, worse, disdain. Of course, the Potions Master was decidedly heterosexual and, as Harry had revealed seconds before destroying Voldemort, harbored feelings for Lily and that, as they say, was that. And dwelling on it as obsessively as he did wasn't going to help him any.

So Remus had cut the conversation off before it could make him feel any worse about himself and had left a concerned looking Hermione, Ginny and Ron, and a suspicious and probing Harry behind to make his miserable way to the dungeons.

The door was right in front of him now. Wonderful. Why did he have to walk so bloody fast when he wasn't paying attention and drowning in self pity? One would think such feelings would slow a person down. Grimacing, Remus reached for the handle.

It swung open before he could so much as touch it, making Remus step back hastily into what could only be a puddle created by one of those stupid thawing charms and suddenly the world was tilting and he could see the ceiling and Merlin, he was going to bloody fall on his arse in front of what had to be a large fraction of his students.

Powerful fingers wrapped around his left arm and stopped him about a quarter of the way through his descent to the floor. Remus found himself jerked unceremoniously back to his feet and then those horribly cold black eyes were staring at him. Severus's lips curled into a sneer.

"You should learn to watch where you walk, Lupin," he said mockingly and Remus's breath caught. There were less than six inches separating their faces and he couldn't remember a time he'd been this close to the other man. In fact, Remus was quite sure this was the closest they'd ever been. And, he realized with a violent lurch of his stomach, Severus was still holding his arm.

They stared at each other for a long moment as Remus struggled to find his voice around the distraction that was Severus's warm hand on him. The Potions Master stared back coolly and Remus was powerfully aware that every single student in the entrance hall was gawking at the two of them. He needed to make his mouth work. Now.

"I was just…" he began, sounding horribly hoarse. He paused to clear his throat, "Coming to see you," he continued, "to save you the trouble of coming to me."

Severus released his arm and his hand, to Remus's dismay, disappeared into the folds of his robes, "How thoughtful," he said sarcastically before drawing out a goblet that undoubtedly held wolfsbane and brandishing it towards Remus, "I made a cauldron full, as usual."

"Yes," Remus said and this time his voice betraying him by sounding breathless. He took the goblet shakily, "Thank you."

Severus grunted and turned away, sweeping back into the dungeons as quickly as he had appeared in them, leaving Remus standing there stupidly in the middle of the entrance hall, holding his goblet of wolfsbane and gawking after Severus like some sort of imbecile. It occurred to him after a long moment that he should probably leave or something, so he spun, intent on the staircase and caught Harry's eyes across the hall.

The boy was smiling in a rather disconcerting way.

It took every ounce of self control Remus had not to run when he fled.

--

A/N: Sooooo, what'd you guys think? Lemme know, please. By reviewing. Yeah.