Severus's Way

Severus/Remus

Friendship/Comfort/Romance

by asth3nia

Prolouge

It wasn't the first time that the dream like fog had enshrouded Severus. It wisped around his thin figure, dousing every bony angle of his sickened body with moisture. A thin chill rose from somewhere below his knees. He knew what it was… who it was. He felt the beads of sweat beginning to trickle between his eyes and slide towards his cheek.

He let his head drop to one side. A blurry outline swivelled before his dark eyes. He tried to follow it, but it seemed to be darting in and out of view. Severus flexed his finger; they felt stiff and cold. His arms ached and his temples pulsed.

The chill had now enveloped his groin and had slithered beneath his shirt. His breath began to slow and he could feel the familiar tightening in his chest. It was strong and defiant. Severus brought a hand sharply to his chest; he wanted to fight against it. He urged his mind to consider, but his muscles felt weak and his vision faltered to a weak haze of colour.

One sound penetrated his mind , over and over again. One voice, serene yet anxious. Severus arched his back and then froze. The chill swirled around his shoulders and with a final gasping breath, like that single transition from dusk to night, the fog layered his worn out body and the sounds and colours were no more.

Chapter One: Welcome to Hogwarts

Marvin Beargles - 1121- 1268. The first grand potions master to die from brewing his own boil cure. Also the first male wizard to pronounce the beauty of floral pattern dress robes. Floral pattern dress became a popular trend during the late 1200's.

Severus tossed the famous witches and wizards card between a fold of clothes in his trunk and turned his attention back to the leather bound book resting in the palm of his left hand. He licked his thumb and turned the aged page slowly. This time there was a riddle scratched onto the parchment.

Date: 1976, April 4th, a Tuesday evening, Slytherin common room. A man had twelve liquorice wands in front of him. He took one away. Now he had nine in front of him. How is it possible?

Severus scowled at the stupidity of the words his 16 year old self had puzzled over. Licking the tip of his eagle feathered quill, the now 33 year old Severus Snape wrote beneath his former untidy handwriting, in a new elegant script: 1993, August 31st, a Sunday night. private quarters.Further life experience has led me to believe that this 'riddle' is ridiculously fabricated and to be solved by the dim-witted.

He shut the book and put it back into his leather trunk, sliding it under the bed and pushing himself up from the floor. His knee joints cracked beneath his weight and he groaned, bending over to rub them. At just 35 years old, his body had been through enough wear and tear to mull over an early retirement. Walking over to pour himself a tumbler of brandy, he snorted at his thoughts. What with all the pre war tension, the news of Azkaban escapee Sirius Black on the loose and a pile of monthly lesson plans to prepare, he felt his weary bones were a long way off from early retirement. Severus smacked his lips and placed the tumbler on a tray to be washed. The clock read 6:30, so he grabbed his cloak and headed out through the portrait door, into the chilly corridor. Staff meetings were probably amongst the worst downfalls of being a teacher and Severus, more than anyone so he felt, despised having to dedicate an hour of his precious time to sitting in the staff room, crammed between a pumpkin smelling Hagrid and a conceited Professor McGonagall. He had been sent the agenda of the meeting by owl post that day and nothing at all caught his attention.

"Same ole, same ole," he voiced, echoing the exact thoughts of possibly every other college besides Dumbledore and McGonagall.

The staff room buzzed with a welcoming atmosphere when he slipped through the door, forgetting to knock. A round of cheery faces welcomed him with "Greetings Severus!" and "Hope you had a good holiday, excited for the new term?" He replied to each greeting with a grunt and a "It was pleasant." before taking a seat in a free armchair. He smirked, when a panting Professor Flitwick came through the door and cast a disdain look toward him. Severus knew Professor Flitwick liked the purple armchair by the fire, but was far from concerned with the charms teachers interests. He was cold and his temples throbbed with the remains of a hangover. The previous night had found the potions master at a Death Eaters celebration; a celebration of rejuvenation. Word had risen from the far east, word of rebirth and rebuilding of a cult that once struck fear within the hearts of even youth. The silent whispers that passed through Severus's ears that night plagued his thoughts with fear and unease. He had once believed that the Dark Lord was gone, banished for good. But the events of the previous months, events which included Harry Potter, had led Severus to reconsider his safety. Last night he had been called to a meeting at which proposals of war were made. Death Eaters who had run and hidden has been reborn last night, their faith cruelly instilled with forbidden methods. Severus, now more than ever, felt that despite the downfalls of being a teacher, he was in a very secure position; and more than anything, he was happy to be here for another year, even if it meant migraine medicines and tonic cures.

"Welcome! Welcome all."

Severus drew his attention back to the staff room and toward the heap of vibrant robes and beard perched on a high stool in front of a stained glass window.

"The beginning of a beautiful year should always begin the reunification of a beautiful team and none more so then the Hogwarts staff." A light round of applause followed, Severus glowered. "I trust you all received the agenda, so we shall begin. Proceeding the events of last year concerning TriWizard Tournament, I found my dazzling summers day interrupted by a hoard of ministry trouble seeking officials. Pity it is the active tongues of youth; exaggerated rumours seemed to have travelled outside the castle walls with a first year alerting a parent within ministry walls of a supposed secret chamber." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "But we all know that no such chamber exists and Hogwarts is, as always was and will be, a safe haven of education and fun. To prove that inspections have come back clear, we have been presented with a clarification certificate."

Dumbledore pulled a scroll from his pocket and unrolled it, laying it flat on the table.

AS DECLARED BY MINISTRY GOVERNMENT, IT HAS BEEN SEEN AND INSEPCTED THAT HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDY HAS PASSED ALL INSPECTIONS WITH EXCELLENCE AND PERFECTION.

MINISTER FOR MAGIC

Dumbledore smiled and clicked his fingers. The scroll floated into the air and pinned itself to one of the staff walls, settling neatly alongside a row of certificates, all stating the exact same thing. Dumbledore turned and smiled. "Moving on. I would now like to open suggestion to the floor and welcome you all to raise issues of concern."

Severus refrained from groaning out loud. This was the longest and most dreary part of the meeting. He could almost predict what would happen, because it was the same thing time and time again. Silence for a few minutes, a few coughs and a sniff and sneeze or two and then Professor McGonagall would raise the issue of detention rates amongst Slytherin students. He sighed and drummed his fingers on the armrest.

"If you do not appose, Albus, I care to raise the issue of detention statistics amongst certain students the previous year, particularly those of a-"

"A chilled nature, yes, we know, Minerva," Severus interrupted, waving a hand in the air. " I personally feel the need to cut your rant in motion to an abrupt halt, as I have it near perfected due to repletion."

"Well perhaps if these particular students had a fair hand played in their actions, I would not have to continue raising the issue."

"I do not sentence detention amongst those who do not deserve it. Those that deserve to spend 1 hour with me at weekends, of which I assure you I do not gain pleasure from regardless of which house these students come from, those students get what they deserve."

A silent knocking sound interrupted the usual argument between he two heads of houses. Attention swung towards the door, but it did not open. Severus flicked his eyes quickly towards Professor Dumbledore.

"Come in." Dumbledore called, crossing his palms over his knees.

The large door glided open and a timid looking man peeked around it. His hair lay knotted upon his tanned and weather beaten face, and a hastily cut fringe flopped over his left eye. Severus stared at him. The mans complexion looked familiar, yet he couldn't place the face.

"Ah, do come in. I had feared you ran into difficulty." Professor Dumbledore said, gesturing to the empty seat beside Hagrid.

The man moved from behind the door to reveal himself. He was dressed in a mousse coloured suit, with a dark mustard coloured cloak. As he turned to shut the door, Severus noticed that the hems of the cloak were tattered, possibly having been dragged along the floor. The man smiled warmly and made his way to the seat, nodding courteously at other staff members. They greeted him with smiles and Minerva shook his hand, nodding fondly.

"I do apologies for being late. Time slipped my mind. Being here again brought back so many memories. I couldn't help but wonder to a particular favourite spot of mine." the man said, nodding towards Dumbledore.

Severus frowned. That voice; soft and timid. It rang a bell, a distant bell, but somewhere deep within his memory, locked away those bells rang. He examined the mans face. A bushy moustache stuck out from beneath his nose and a thin pink scar streaked across his cheek bone and disappeared onto his left ear lobe in a deep white indentation. Severus looked to the mans hands. They were long and square, a bit feminine in his opinion, but the cracked skin on the mans knuckles showed signs of manual labour. Was he an apprentice grounds keeper? Severus declined the idea, the man was to thin to perform that kind of labour. He looked slightly ill and a bit beaten. Severus smirked. Fit for a caretaking job. Perhaps he was here to help Filch clean the bathrooms.

"I trust you are all already aware of who our newest arrival to the team is, but just to clarify for those who had not received word," and with that Severus could feel Dumbledore's eyes upon his form. Severus had not attended the last meeting called by Dumbledore over the summer. He had been locked away in his home at Spinners End, nursing a nasty "stomach flu". Self inflicted of course; a case of one to many brandy's - Dumbledore didn't know that though. "Everyone, please welcome Professor Remus Lupin, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for this forth coming year."

A round of applause echoed throughout the room, except for Severus. He had froze. His once flexing fingers had stiffened and from the corner of his eyes, he cast another glance at the man seated next to Hagrid, smiling cheerfully and nodding to the other staff members. It couldn't be, not here at Hogwarts, not at this place. Severus continued to stare at Remus. He couldn't believe it. From deep within his stomach, he could feel an unease rising. Those distantly ringing bells became clearer and louder. Remus Lupin, former Gryffindor prefect, Lycanthrope and Marauder. Remus Lupin, along with his three troublemaking friends James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, had been Severus rivals at school and constant source of torment. Severus held back a growing growl as he remembered nearly being killed by Remus during a full moon.

As the staff meeting came to an end and each person rose, gathering their cloaks and nodding their goodnights, Severus darted towards Dumbledore, with full intentions of making a public display of annoyance. He had just rounded upon the right hand side of the Headmaster when the form of Remus Lupin appeared at the Headmasters left side. Severus scowled.

"A productive meeting, Professors, I must admit," Dumbledore declared, resting the tea tray on a cupboard to be collected later by house elves.

"Very productive," Remus agreed, "Again, my apologies for being late and many thanks for the warm welcome." His amber eyes flicked momentarily to Severus, and then quickly back to those of the Headmaster.

"Reviews, Severus?" the Headmaster prompted.

Severus clenched a hand. "Very productive, Headmaster and if you could spare a moment, perhaps a private word?" he asked, emphasizing the word private.

"Ah I am afraid I do not have a free moment right now, Severus. I must accompany Remus to his new quarters and then tackle a rather amusing handwritten complaint letter. It seems that certain parents are now insisting we provide insurance for their children who are attending Hogwarts to finance any damage done within the school, quite a ridiculous notion, where goes magic goes mishap."

Albus turned his back on both professors and walked away, muttering to himself and chuckling lightly. Severus clenched his teeth.

"Did you have a good summer?" Remus chanced.

Severus turned on his heel and left the staff room, his cloak billowed behind him. Storming down the corridors, he raged past portraits, snapping at a particularly vibrant painting of young children playing Quidditch. His heels clicked noisily against the stone steps leading to the dungeons. He could not believe Dumbledore had rejected his request like that. Publicly rejected him and in front of Lupin too. Of all the degrading, disrespectful things to do, the in which he confided in had gone and disgraced him.

Swinging his portrait open and stepping into the room, he immediately made his way to his book shelf and pulled a first year potions book down. Behind it, a clear bottle wobbled. Severus grasped the bottle and poured himself a brew. He downed the tumbler in one go and poured another. His head throbbed, he felt annoyed and the very prospect of a year with Lupin was enough to drive him to St. Mungo's. In total, Severus Snape was not having a very good welcome to Hogwarts for a new year.

Chapter One End.

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- asth3nia.