Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters featured in this text of fan-fiction. They are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I've decided to rework this. Somehow, trawling through various fics made me nostalgic about the atmosphere of these pieces. I figured I'd revisit them. This fic, originally titled "Facing not really understanding" originally ended at chapter 3, both in my manuscript from 2007 and in the uploaded version from... 2016... I think. So here is the rewrite and I will be adding new chapters to this in due time. I hope you enjoy it.

Part I

London, 1975-

The paint on the door of the Victorian house was peeling off. It had been white at some previous stage, then cream-coloured and it was now steadily going an ugly shade of brownish yellow due to the flaking varnish that still covered it in most places. There were tired-looking light pink geraniums in the window box and a straggly rosebush was obstinately growing out of the patch of moist yet poor soil in front of the bay window. The Lupins had lived there for as long as anyone could recall. They weren't originally from London, but no one ever could remember where they had resided prior to this, and no one ever bothered asking.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin ha always been very outgoing and active people in the neighbourhood, and so it surprised people to learn that their child was so shy. Remus was hardly ever to be seen outside, except on his way to and from school or the corner shop. This had changed, however, when aged eleven he had met three boys who would become his best mates. He would play football in the street with them or perhaps enjoy a game of chess on the front step in the sun when only one of his friends could come over.

Remus Lupin knew that he was a bit strange. He had been comfortable with that all his childhood. Until now. His friends had known him for four years now and were completely used to his ways, but he couldn't help wondering if this wasn't the result of plain indifference to them. He liked to watch people. He needed a group that he could be a part of: he was with them, but always one step to the side. He fancied himself as having a bit of a talent for reading people when they thought they weren't being watched. Little did he know that he was to be the object of someone's intense scrutiny himself.

London, 1976 -

'There he is', Remus thought. 'I wonder what he's doing'. Remus was standing in the hallway at school, trying to follow the actions of a strange boy. There was something strangely unfamiliar about him, though they must have been going to the same school for the last five years and although Remus was certain that this boy wasn't a new student, he couldn't recall ever speaking to him.

Presently the boy was bending down as if to tie his shoelace. In itself this wasn't strange, but he had been hunched over in this way for the past ten minutes, or so it seemed to Remus. In fact, at first Remus had been tempted to go over and ask if he was alright, until he caught sight of the distinctive profile. Remus had stopped still and retreated a few steps upon seeing the chin-length black hair, the hooked nose and the unhealthy skinniness that seemed to be exaggerated by the dark red uniform. Something about him made want Remus recoil instinctively.

After a while, the boy stood up straight and stared at the wall before brushing a sleeve over his face and walking off. He did not acknowledge Remus, who had the feeling that this was quite intentional and perhaps done to save face.

Remus looked at the spot where the boy had been contemplating the floor: there was a small collection of drops of blood. He went closer bent down and gingerly dragged a finger straight across the speckled floor where the blood had fallen.

"I thought you were watching me."

Remus jumped at the sound of an unknown voice. He did, however, guess whom it belonged to. He stood and turned his head. As if in a nightmare, he found his body didn't feeling numb and he couldn't turn it around properly to face the boy who must have doubled back while he was inspecting the blood on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the boy's angry face.

"Gloating, are you?" he said.

"Beg pardon?" Remus replied finally managing to turn around and face the boy.

"Don't be daft. You were there, like the rest of the school."

The boy grinned defiantly, revealing two missing teeth.

"What! Is that why you're bleeding? What are you doing here? You've got to get to a doctor... er... dentist!" Remus blurted out.

The boy frowned. He tapped his finger to place in his gums where his teeth were missing behind his upper lip, winced and ran his tongue between his teeth and his lip. He smiled.

"Jesus!"Remus exclaimed shocked.

The teeth were back, as if they had never been gone.

"Exactly." The boy said sarcastically.

"You go tell your daft mates that I can work miracles. Go tell them that. Tell them I'm Jesus. Fat lot of good that'll do us both." he snorted.

Remus blinked. The boy turned and left. Remus rubbed his eyes. Was this all some sort of trick? He rubbed his bloody forefinger together with his thumb. His head was starting to throb, signalling an oncoming migraine. He shook himself, shuddering.

'Real blood' he concluded.

In the way home he dropped by the chemist's to buy some pain medication. He seemed to use up his aspirin extremely quickly. So much so that the had started buying it with his own money for fear that his parents might think he had a serious illness. Truth be told, he didn't understand it himself. Every month, around the full moon he would feel ill. Having taken a double dose of aspirin he would go to bed early on those nights. This was one of them.

The next morning he had forgotten about it all.

London, 1985-

Remus sat in a pub called "the Horse and Hound". He had rented a flat in the building above it and had taken to popping down for a beer from time to time. This part of town was not the cleanest, but it was unremarkable enough to be relatively safe. Families lived here and the mood on the streets was generally cordial. Remus was having a chat with the man on the barstool next to his, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Yes?" he turned.

In front of him stood a man his age; black haired, hook-nosed and gaunt, with bad posture. Remus couldn't remember ever setting eyes on the fellow.

"Severus Snape" said the man, extending a hand. Remus took it, somewhat confused. As they broke the handshake, Remus noticed a stickiness on his left index: blood.

"That's my blood" said Snape with a scowl.

"Are you hurt?" asked Remus bemused.

"Come outside. I have to settle something with you."

"Look, let me finish my pint." Remus said, rather hoping that the man would offer to wait for him outside and eventually leave when he didn't show up.

"No, get up. Now" Snape said replied softly and slightly menacingly.

"Alright, look mate, if you want…"

"I am not your "mate". I do not want a drink" Snape stated.

He turned and headed for the door. Remus was about to ignore the strange man, but suddenly his finger, hand and arm began to feel strangely dry. The dryness became intense pain and he knew that something had just been triggered by this fellow. He slammed the money for the pint on the counter, managed to hiss an apology through pain-clenched teeth to his drinking-mate and followed Snape's footsteps to the door. To Remus' utter bewilderment, he wasn't waiting outside. The next thing he noticed brought him close to total panic. His arm and hand were sweating blood. In fact, it seemed as though the dryness he had felt earlier was the feeling of his blood dripping out of his body. He examined his arm and found that the carmine liquid was seeping out of his pores and that the only part of his hand that was not bleeding was the place where he had felt the stranger's blood. He shook his arm.

A curious thing happened: the drops, which should have dispersed randomly, seemed to have gone to the left. He shook his arm again. An arrow-shaped outline of blood was becoming visible. Remus stepped to the left, in the direction of the arrow. It faded only to reappear three metres ahead. There were no passers-by, no cars, and now that he came to think of it, no birdsong. Remus followed the arrow further. As the process repeated itself, the arrow grew fainter, as did the pain in his arm. Remus followed this strange path to an alley behind an Chinese restaurant. He half-expected to find Snape there and was slightly disappointed at finding no one. He wanted to shout at the man whom he held responsible for this uncanny and gratuitous interruption of what would otherwise have been a perfectly enjoyable evening.

Remus, exhaution creeping over him, followed his nose toward the open kitchen door and glanced in. The cooks were all working animatedly, chopping at superhuman speed, or so it seemed, wiping their brows over huge woks on gas stoves and rushing about with colored dishes laden with fragrant food.

Remus went around the building and into the restaurant. A waiter came up to him immediately.

"We have been expecting you." the waiter said and motioned for Remus to follow.

He found the man he was following sitting at a table. As soon as Remus saw Snape's face, he felt an odd mix of rage and utter exhaustion, as if he had reached a long-sought destination. The dining room was full, with all tables occupied, which prevented Remus from shouting. Instead he seated himself on the chair opposite Snape and said:

"What is the meaning of this?"

"My point exactly." Snape answered.

He seized Remus' hand before the latter could pull it back and held the once again bloody finger up in front of his eyes.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to touch certain things that might be dangerous? Like other people's blood?" Snape curtly said.

Remus had the feeling that Snape was used to telling children off, though he did not look old or worried enough to have his own.

"Sorry? I shook your hand. How was I supposed to know that there was blood on it?" Remus spluttered indignantly. "And WHAT was that trick with MY blood? My arm? How did you do that?"

Snape grinned and revealed two missing teeth.

"Exaclty the same way I did this."

He closed his lips, opened them again and Remus saw a normal, if somewhat yellowish smile. He also noted that there was an almost canine quality to the elongated, sharp-looking teeth. And suddenly he recognized the boy from school he had forgotten.

"Good." Snape said, as if reading Remus' thoughts. And then he vanished.