Disclaimer: They're not mine. (Alas.)
It was hardly light when Severus returned to Grimmauld Place. The house was dark and quiet, most of the inhabitants being either asleep or at their own homes. He'd reached the kitchen, wondering what might be left in the cupboards, before he realized the house wasn't as quiet as he realized.
Remus Lupin was sitting at the kitchen table fumbling with a roll of bandages. His hands were shaking and blood was smeared all over the back of his hands, dripping slowly from his knuckles to the tabletop.
Full moon last night, Severus realized, suddenly glad that he'd arrived after moonset (Not that he'd be dangerous, the potion worked perfectly). He wavered on the threshold, somehow riveted by the sight of this small intricacy of transformation.
The floorboards creaked; Remus looked up and promptly dropped the bandages for the third time.
"Severus- I-," he stammered, glancing down at his bloodied hands. "I didn't hear you come in…" He bent to pick up the roll, simultaneously trying to hide his hands and the mess.
With a sigh Severus crossed to the table, snagging a dark dishtowel from the counter. Wetting it, he handed it to Remus and relived him of the now stained bandage roll without a word.
Remus stared at him as he fetched a new one and returned to sit opposite the werewolf.
"What-,"
Severus gave him a reprimanding look, usually saved for students, not full grown men. "Don't be an idiot."
Remus hesitated, then held out his hands.
Severus was efficient, wrapping the neatly and tightly in the white material. As he tucked in the end of the bandage, he looked up, to find Lupin looking at him oddly.
"What?"
Lupin smiled softly. "Thank you."