AN: Here I am, writing again! I've had the worst case of writer's block but it's getting better. After all I have once promised to finish this, and I still stand by my word. There are too many unfinished stories out there. To those of you who are still with me in this, and to those who has just joined the party: Thank you for being here, now enjoy the next chapter.

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Severus had been awake less than five hours when the nosebleeds returned, efficiently ruining a potion he had been working on for the last hour and a half. What should have been a fever reducer for the infirmary was now some unknown, potentially volatile concoction that Severus quickly banished, Dumbledore's no-magic rule be damned.

Dispirited the potions master deflated on the bed that by all rights should have been Lupin's, using his left sleeve to stem the nosebleed. This room was more than twice the size of the one currently housing the werewolf, with a bigger and more comfortable bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers. It wasn't a room suited for potions making but out of spite Severus had made it his laboratory, instead of using the far more practical kitchen. He wished he could change it now, but it was too late. After back to back doses of working remedy Lupin was fairing much better and would surely wake up should Severus try to move him, a situation Snape did not want to find himself in.

The blood flow had been small to begin with and it ended fast enough, allowing Severus to lay back on the bed. He would need to wash his robes as soon as he figured out the washing machine, the blood would make the sleeve stiff - not to mention he didn't want Lupin to see it.

Staring emptily at the white plaster ceiling Severus could not help but wonder if he had always felt like this. The self disgust and hatred kept nagging him constantly and it felt like they had burnt a hole through his abdomen. Maybe it had been just as bad two weeks ago - before the whole mess had started - and he had just been so used to it that he didn't feel it so acutely. It could also have gotten worse, seeing how he had a whole new set of disgusting memories to hate himself for.

In the end Severus was not a person who let such insignificant things as feelings rule his life. To him it did not matter that he wished to keep staring at the ceiling for the rest of the day, his wants was always superseded by other's demands. Pomfrey needed a potion and a potion she would get, even if Snape couldn't quite contain a sigh as he forced his body back into motion.

.oOo.

When Lupin finally woke it was with much less hassle than Severus would have imagined. The brown eyes fluttered open when Snape stepped into the room and confusion shone in them for a moment before the obvious question was asked.

"Where am I?" The younger man's voice was hoarse but surprisingly strong.

"One of Dumbledore's safe houses, it's protected by the Fideli." Snape kept his tone detached and uncaring, it was an easy way to convince himself that was the case. Lupin's eyes closed for a second and relief shone on his pale face.

"So it wasn't a dream then, you got me out. Thank you." Their eyes met and Severus got the notion that Lupin wanted to say something else.

"It was not my doing" Severus said, sparing his charge the trouble. "The Dark Lord allowed your rescue or it would never have been possible." In many ways it would have been safer to keep Lupin in the dark about that particular truth. Secrets never stayed that way for long if you started telling people, but Severus had no wish to be idolized. Living in close quarters with the werewolf would be hard enough without the other man crawling around his feet in gratitude.

Even an untrained eye would have seen the wheels turning in Lupin's mind, and to Severus it was almost painfully clear when he came to his conclusion.

"You-know-who wouldn't… and the other two… and if I still need protection. Tell me."

"Two days ago, the 22nd, I brought you to Dumbledore's office. Apart from the flesh wounds you suffered from severe magical septicaemia and was close to death. Madame Pomfrey healed your external injuries before she had to return to the infirmary which is currently swamped by Rawenclaws with Dragonpox. Dumbledore planned to take on responsibility for your treatment but the other two bodies turned up at that moment, staged to look like an accidental kill. The headmaster is sorting it out now but with the current political climate keeping you at Hogwarts was impossible."

Remus needed no details on the kind of manhunt that would be stirred up by a werewolf gone rogue, and was at that point nearly as white as the sheets he was embedded in. For a fleeting second Severus thought that maybe he should have taken a softer approach but gentle had never been one of his prominent traits.

"You need to drink this." His voice was still distanced but the werewolf accepted the vial and the light green potion disappeared into his mouth. Taking back the small container Severus felt the urge to run, and for once he allowed his emotions to rule. By the door he cast one last glance back at Lupin who was lying curled up on his side, watching him leave.

"So today's Christmas eve?" Lupin's voice was empty.

"Yes." As he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him Severus was pretty sure he heard a strangled sob from the other side. Raising a shaking hand to rub his face Snape returned to the makeshift laboratory, there were more potions that needed brewing.

.oOo.

It took less than twenty four hours before Severus was close to killing Lupin again, or committing suicide, as long as it got him away from the situation.

With paper thin walls and no silencing charms Severus could almost hear the tears hitting the bedding in Lupin's room, as well as all the other sounds of grieving. Not to mention that the man had started talking to himself, bemoaning his fate. Whenever the crying finally stopped Lupin would materialize, more ghost than human, and haunt the tiny house.

The man was clearly unable to move past what had been done to him. He even repeatedly tried to talk to Snape about it, sitting on the bed in the laboratory blaming himself for killing the family. It was all 'did you see the little boy' and 'did you hear her begging me not to hurt him' with the occasional 'Dumbledore is doing too much for me'. Severus couldn't stand it.

Every time Lupin spoke it reminded Severus of that night. He was brought back into that moment with horrifying clarity, all of his feelings and reactions on a macabre display not even dulled by the dust of time. Soon enough Lupin only had to try to open his mouth before the memories assaulted him and sooner still all Lupin had to do was show himself, or make noises.

What right did the man have to feel that strongly for three people that he hadn't even killed? Three people that the Dark Lord killed in an evil play with the werewolf that had been taking up Lupin's place in existence.

What right did Lupin have when Severus had blood on his hands from more than ten times as many? When Severus had a full classroom of ghosts staring back at him, none of which he had ever allowed himself to grieve for?

Back when Snape had turned to the order no one had asked about his past, if it had been out of cowardice or some faulty picture that it shouldn't be stirred up Severus didn't know. No one had asked and since he didn't want them to know the spy had pushed it out of his head and onto his shoulders were he choose to carry it. What he didn't know then was how heavy that weight would get, how much would be added over the years. By now all he could do was trudge on, trying to keep his back straight, and hope that he didn't slip, because if he did the weight would crush him completely.

.oOo.

Deprived of any escape in the small house, tired and under pressure Severus could never find the time to breath, no less calm the raging storm that had stirred up inside him. It was all undeniably bound towards one point. Just over twenty-four hours after Lupin waking up, on the afternoon of Christmas day, Severus finally lost his control.

Lupin had been standing by the door to the laboratory again, bemoaning his fate and crying over how unfair life was when the hurricane reached its peak.

"Shut up!" Even Severus himself was surprised as he smacked the knife down on the cutting board and turned to Lupin's sorry sight. "Shut up! Who are you to sit here complaining to me of all people about three people killed by a werewolf. You weren't even there, where you? Well let me tell you; I WAS! Who do you think tortured you enough to make you bite yourself like that, huh? I was there, all in for torturing you and trust me I ENJOYED IT. You cannot make Crucio work without truly enjoying the pain you cause, did you know that? It's what makes it so unforgivable, and I can do it, no problem." Lupin looked stunned and stayed silent.

"You are walking around here like a ghost so busy thinking about yourself that you don't even notice those around you. 'Oh my god, my werewolf form killed someone. I'm so horrible, how can anyone help me?'" The last was said in a very mocking tone before Severus stepped up to Lupin, putting their faces no more than two feet apart.

"Let me make this perfectly clear once and for all: I do not feel sorry for you, not at all. You do not even have a memory of the killings the creature in you committed. I on the other hand remember every last one of mine, and let me tell you they are remarkably more than three. How much blood do you think it takes to get into the Dark Lord's inner circle? How much torture? How many lives? No one ever held my hand, what makes you think I should be able to do so for you?"

Severus fell silent and it was like the completely calm eye of the storm. Both men stood perfectly still, dark brown eyes meeting honey with equally stunned looks on their faces.

.oOo.

Remus just observed his colleague, not knowing how to respond. Never before had he seen so much genuine feeling from the spy. The anger that so obviously had an undertone of panic, and the bone deep weariness towards the end had suddenly cleared Remus' senses. Why had he never seen this before, why had no one understood? They all knew what the Death Eaters did, why had they never connected the dots?

In the end he realized they must have refused to see, and that the episodes he had witnessed so far probably only was the tip of the iceberg. Someone should have been there earlier, seeing the veneer for what it was. But no one had cared enough to look, and instead they had sent Severus back again and again to a hell he already knew too well. There was no way out as long as Voldemort was alive, Remus knew that, but they could have done something. They could have cared.

At least Remus knew he could try to make up for his mistake. His own problems seemed insignificant in the shadow of what Severus had let out. Any processing he needed to do could be done later, in the company of someone else.

Surely the other man would never have meant to give away as much as he had, and Remus could see that trying to speak about what had just transpired would not lead to anything constructive. Yet the silence had stretched out to long and needed to be broken since none of the pair seemed inclined to move.

"Are you hungry? I could make us some dinner." It was an honest thing to say, yet normal and therefore somewhat safe. Remus also realised that he himself was hungry, starving actually, and he was suddenly unsure if he had eaten more than the odd piece of bread since waking. Severus didn't seem to have cooked either, but he guessed neither of them had had much of an appetite.

"Yes, thank you." The polite answer was a pleasant shock for Remus, but he guessed Snape was more shaken than he let on. The minute softening of the lines around Severus eyes was probably as much of a smile as Remus would ever get out of the man, but he took it for what it was as he followed his colleague to the kitchen. Starting on a regular Christmas dinner seemed overrated but Remus managed to dig out ingredients for a meat stew with vegetables and potatoes. After years of living in the muggle world he moved around the kitchen with its electrical devices easily. The silence that reign was surprisingly comfortable, even with Snape watchfully studying Remus' every move from his seat at the kitchen table.

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The next days floated past unexpectedly easy. Most of the time they spent on different locations, Severus brewing potions in the laboratory and Remus crawled up in an armchair with a book. They ate their meals together, usually in silence. The short conversations that took place were never outright hostile. Severus was sometimes swiftly angered, but mostly their attempts to talk just felt forced and fake. Some of their exchanges were still decent, but in the end staying silent was the safest. Silence was comfortable, and that was all they needed.

Remus still slept a lot, the disease residing in his bloodstream making him weak. Constant doses of potions were at least doing their job and he could feel his strength slowly returning even if he would continue taking the cure for at least three or four weeks.

They both knew that the chance of Severus being called back to his master's side was growing with each hour. It was bound to happen sooner or later but as long as it wasn't right now they could live with ignoring it.

When Fawkes arrived with a note from Dumbledore saying that it would most likely take until after New Year's Eve to solve the mess none of them were surprised, nor overly disappointed to be unable to return to Hogwarts.

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AN: This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful boyfriend. The next will be out soon enough.