Written: 240102
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Notes: This fic is actually sort of a companion piece to my other Snape/Lupin fic 'An Acquired Taste'. It's from Snape's POV, and also includes how they first got together. Part of a series in progress inspired by Frank Sinatra's 'It Was A Very Good Year'. Sequel to 'Reaching Through A Veil'.
Part 1
When I was seventeen, it was a very good year
It was a very good year for small-town girls and soft summer nights… We would hide from the lightsOn the village green
When I was seventeen…
----Frank Sinatra, 'It Was A Very Good Year'
I sit facing him, across the table, on opposite sides of a barrier that rises so high and sinks so deep I cannot see its ends.
He can sense it too, that division – which is why he's still there fidgeting and twisting his hands. Face set in a miserable frown as he racks his brains for something to say that could diffuse the situation.
Poor naïve Remus. He still doesn't get it. Must be that hard-headed, rigid mindset they teach them at Gryffindor. That foolish idea that if one tries hard enough, one will eventually overcome all odds and emerge 'victorious'.
You don't understand, do you, Remus? Nothing that you can come up with will ever remedy what has passed. You can never 'make it right'.
And since he's still floundering about needlessly, searching for the correct phrase to speak when there is none, I shall begin for him.
"Dumbledore says you insisted on seeing me."
"Yes, I—"
"I can't imagine why."
"W-what?" His gaze shoots up from the agitated fumblings of his hands. His eyes are wide, fearful. He is beginning to grasp the concept that things may not go his way after all. It gives me a surge of satisfaction that I stamp down on immediately. He shall not have the fortune to see that he has elicited a reaction – any reaction – from me.
"It's obvious from what has happened that you no longer want us to be together."
His face blanches at my words, pale features gaining an expression so stricken that for a moment, my heart almost succumbs and softens.
But, no! I inhale deeply, drawing the steam rising from my coffee – one of the few vestiges of my Muggle heritage – into me, letting the bitter scent of the espresso ground me, fuel me.
He's getting desperate, I can see. He can't read me anymore, he doesn't know what I'm thinking, and that panics him. He's finally realising that he wasn't special because he was the only one who was able to reach out and 'connect' with me.
He was special because he was the only one whom I allowed to do so.
***
"How did you do it?" The soft, curiosity-laced voice came from behind him, drawing his attention from the text on Dark Arts he's managed to borrow from the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts School Library as part of his research.
He returned the boy's inquisitive, semi-friendly stare with a bemused one of his own. "Excuse me?"
"How did you do it?" the boy repeated, his eyes darting to the volume in Snape's hand. "How did you manage to get that book out? You don't have a teacher's note."
Snape continued staring at the other boy for a few more moments, debating whether to call his bluff on such a lame conversation gambit. With a small sigh, he relented. "Sixth- & Seventh-years are allowed to take certain books out of the Restricted Section without prior permission from a teacher, if the research they're conducting for their assignments pertains to the relevant areas," he paused, glance flickering beyond the boy's shoulder, "as it is stated on the notice that's on the board behind your head."
At least he has the grace to look embarrassed, Snape thought absently as he brushed past the boy, making his way to the doors leading to the corridor outside the library.
"Wait!"
Snape halted, finally allowing some of his exasperation to trickle through. He had really been impatient to delve into this latest text he'd managed to unearth among the countless tomes in the maze that was the Restricted Section. "What do you want?!"
He drew himself up to his full height as he turned to glare into the grey eyes of the sandy-haired boy a few steps behind him.
"Well… I… I…" The boy certainly seemed like he was having quite a bit of difficulty speaking.
"Well, what? Spit it out!" Snape's eyes darted around, trying to peer through the shelves and corners as an inkling of a suspicion grew in his mind. He was now beginning to recall where he might have seen the boy before. He was one of the Gryffindors, always seen in the company of James Potter and Sirius Black. Lupan… Rupin, or something.
He gazed warily at this minion of Potter and Black, wondering if this was another new prank they had conjured. It wouldn't have been a far stretch of the imagination – he'd been on the butt-end of their jokes several times already, ever since he'd made the mistake of insulting Sirius Black back in their Fourth Year. The ironic thing was, Snape mused, he couldn't even clearly remember the reason behind the initial verbal sparring.
"Rupin" was still standing there, not making any progress with his muttering. Reaching the ends of his patience, Snape decided to go.
"No, wait, I need your help!"
Snape froze. Now he was sure something was up. Cautiously, he turned again to look the other boy in the face. "Alright, what are you up to?" he demanded softly, advancing upon him.
"What do you mean?" The boy started backing away, looking a little alarmed.
"If you need help, you could always ask your friends in Gryffindor. Do Potter and Black think me so obtuse I'm unable to see through this patently transparent ploy? So tell me, what are you up to?" He punctuated the last few words with each approaching step, until he'd finally trapped the boy against the wall.
"Oh, no! It's not a trick – I need help with my schoolwork."
Snape's expression remained blank and impassive.
"I mean, really, this year I've been having quite a few problems with the higher level curses and counter-curses, and those complicated potions," he explained. "Professor McGonagall spoke to Professor Dumbledore about it, and he suggested that I could ask you for help."
"You're serious?" Snape began to feel a bit of doubt. The boy's eyes looked so sincere, hardly like he was on the verge of unleashing some trick-spell. And it had been quite a while and there was no sign of Potter nor Black. He could feel himself relaxing half against his will.
The boy nodded vigorously. "Yes, I really do need to catch up, and trust me, Sirius and James are definitely NOT going to be able to help me with this." For some inexplicable reason, the wry smile that accompanied the statement dissipated his final misgivings.
"I see," he mentally drew up his timetable, "let's just meet twice a week then. Once for Potions, and once for Defence Against the Dark Arts." It would provide him with a little diversion – Hogwarts was becoming rather boring anyway.
"Oh, thanks! That'd be great!" The boy's grin broke into a dazzling smile, bright enough that it left Snape blinking for an instant, wondering what came over him.
They left the library together and the boy was heading away when Snape realised something. This time he was the one who called out. "Wait!"
The boy stopped, throwing a questioning glance over his shoulder.
"I… I don't know your name," Snape muttered a little awkwardly.
"Oh," the boy smiled again, "it's Remus, Severus Snape. Remus Lupin."
end part 1