Remus had hardly fallen asleep when he was woken by movement coming from the other side of the bed. He felt Severus sitting up, and, risking a careful turn of his head, peeked through one half-open eye to see what was going on. Luckily, Severus was facing away from Remus and, in the act of standing up, did not hear the bed's other occupant shift against the pillow. Encouraged by the promise of being undetected, Remus ventured to open both eyes and observe, with a jolt, Severus removing his shirt. He felt a familiar stir between his legs and cursed the moon for being so bright, for highlighting the elegant angles of the Slytherin's pale, narrow back, and making him look so goddamn beautiful. Remus delighted in tracing each bone with his eyes, and wished he could count each vertebrae running up that spine.
Unfortunately, Severus must have felt himself being watched and turned around too quickly for Remus to feign sleep. He jumped a bit, surprised by the open eyes that met his. "I – I'm a bit cold," he stammered, and even in the dark Remus could see a faint color rising in the boy's cheeks. "I thought I might, if you didn't mind sharing, I might…" he gestured hopelessly towards the bed. Remus understood. "Sure," he laughed, propping himself up to lift the comforter, patting the spot beside him. Severus climbed tentatively beneath the blanket, which was warm from where he had been laying on top of it. And then, because Remus had turned sideways to lift the covers, and because Severus had not yet readjusted to the far edge of the mattress, the unspeakable happened: Severus' leg bumped up against the stiff bulge growing in Remus' boxers.
Remus' eyes widened and he froze, sure that Severus must have noticed. But though the boy did seem to look up quickly through his loose, black hair at Remus, the glance lasted only a fraction of a second, and then Severus was once again as close to falling off the mattress as he could be without actually doing so. Remus let out a small sigh of relief as he let himself fall back against the pillow. Maybe Severus hadn't noticed after all.
Severus, of course, had noticed. But he was determined not to make that known, if he could help it. He lay there, staring once again at the red curtain hanging in front of his face. "It's natural, it happens to every guy when they sleep," he thought in an attempt to reassure himself. But… reassure? About what? He wasn't quite sure, actually. From the idea of turning Remus on, he supposed. But why? Where was the harm? The more he thought about it, the more he felt almost flattered. And then he frowned. He was getting carried away. He wasn't attractive. Even if Remus did lean "that way," it wasn't like he would be interested in someone like Severus Snape. No, he was too thin, too pasty, too sullen, too quiet. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to be blank.
It was something he'd always been able to do, and it had come in handy more than once when dealing with his family. But only in the past day had he realized that it was more than just a meditative effort – for if even Dumbledore could not penetrate his mind when he was focused on the empty spaces, then it must be a powerful gift. This night, however, it served a more therapeutic purpose, and Severus slept without fear of dreams that could force him to relive what had happened twenty-four hours before.
Remus, on the other hand, did not sleep peacefully at all. It must have been all the talk of Fenrir Greyback, or the added heat of another body in his bed, or the stress of building a friendship with someone as unlikely as Severus Snape. He was certainly tired enough, but nightmarish images haunted him throughout the night. He twitched and growled at the memories of that attack, so many years ago. Over a decade had passed and yet he still could remember the searing pain of teeth and claws tearing into his flesh, and the hoarse laughter, and his parents' cries, and that first terrible transformation…
"Pettigrew!"
Remus jerked awake at Severus' outburst, and for a very brief moment had the absurd notion that Severus was calling out Peter's name in his sleep. But as he squinted against the bright sunlight that was just coming in through the windows, he saw that someone else was indeed in the room with them. Severus was already scrambling out from beneath the blanket, grabbing his shirt from the bedside table and pulling it over his head with haste. "Peter," Remus exclaimed breathily. "You – what are you, I didn't think you, what…" he glanced at the clock by his bed. 7:12 AM. "It's so early," he finally blurted out.
"It is my room, too, Remus," the mousy boy said with a strange smile on his face as he looked from his friend to the Slytherin who was already finishing lacing up his shoes. "Of course, I might have stayed in the hospital wing if you'd told me who you were going to be sharing a bed with last night…"
"It's not like you think," Remus began, pushing himself up further and looking at Severus for some kind of affirmation to his statement. But Severus had already grabbed his wand from the table, and was halfway to the door. He turned only to say, "Thank you for housing me," before leaving, and once more, Remus found his expression unreadable. When the dormitory door had closed, Remus looked back at Peter. "Really," he said. "It was nothing. Filch was patrolling the halls and I didn't want to risk him getting caught so I let him stay here for the night… you believe me, right?"
"Sure," said Peter, the weird smile still on his lips. "But why was Snape wandering the upper floors in the first place?"
"I don't really know," shrugged Remus, and this was true. He didn't know why Severus had been sitting alone on the fourth floor balcony. Nor had he thought to ask. "Look, I was just being nice. Filch has been vicious lately, especially towards the Slytherins." Peter shrugged back. "Whatever," he said. "But I don't know why you care what happens to a greaseball like Snape. I don't know what happened between you two the other night, either. But I don't care," he added quickly, when Remus opened his mouth to protest divulging any information. "I don't care what happened, or your motives. It doesn't affect me. I just hate to think how Potter and Black are going to take this whole ordeal."
Remus frowned. "They don't have to know," he said, regretting the pleading tone in his voice. He looked inquiringly at Peter, who was sitting on the chest at the foot of Sirius' bed. "You don't have to tell them. It's only going to get Sirius all worked up into a frenzy, and James will get ticked off at not just me but everybody – you know how they are. Look, I'm sure things are going to go back to the way they are once classes start back up in a couple days. There's really no point in saying anything at all. Okay?" He did his best impression of Sirius' puppy eyes, which had always seemed to work. Peter inspected Remus sternly for a moment, the unnerving smile no longer on his face. "Sure," he finally said, unfolding his arms. Remus relaxed a little, only hoping that Peter could keep his word.
The only people in the Great Hall so early in the morning were two Ravenclaw prefects and Professor McGonagall, at the teachers' table. As usual, she was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, and glanced up only very briefly before returning her attention to the newspaper as Severus entered the large room. Other than the few bites of vegetables he had consumed last night, Severus had not eaten anything since breakfast the day before, and he hadn't really even kept that down for very long. So needless to say, he was feeling quite hungry and decided it would be best to finally sit down for a meal.
Yet he felt strangely apathetic to the food presented in front of him. Sizzling mushroom stuffed omelets, huge bowls filled to the brims with whole oranges and apples, even larger bowls of diced and sugared pears, woven baskets filled with warm croissants and other assorted pastries… it all smelled and looked delicious. But he found himself lacking the desire to eat any of it. Finally, knowing he had to eat something, Severus stacked a couple pieces of lightly buttered toast onto his plate, and grabbed a pitcher of orange juice to fill his goblet.
As he was finishing up with his toast, a movement in the corner of his vision caught his attention. A familiar black owl was soaring gracefully towards his seat at the table and he reached up with impeccably fast reflexes to grab the newspaper as it dropped from Cinnabar's talons. She fluttered down to perch beside him on the bench, peering at him expectantly with large yellow eyes. He smiled and tore off the end of a piece of bacon, and she gobbled it down enthusiastically, hooting appreciatively before flying away. Severus tossed the remainder of the bacon back onto the platter. It held no appeal for him at the moment.
He stared down at the front page of the Prophet. "Attacks Continue As Death Eater Numbers Grow," it declared in bold letters. The picture was of none other than Tom Riddle himself, shaking hands with the Minister of Magic and then ushering him into a small office, the door closing behind them. The caption below read, "Riddle continues to deny any involvement in the violent acts of his followers." He chewed slowly on a slice of candied pear as he scanned the article. It was all the same news they'd been publishing for months now, but now he was searching for names. And there, halfway down the page! He saw exactly who he was looking for and leaned towards the text in anticipation. "Fenrir Greyback has been reported as a main culprit in these attacks, or "recruitments," as they are referred to by many Death Eaters. Being a werewolf, Greyback has proven to be a far more dangerous weapon for "Voldemort's" intimidation purposes, though Riddle claims to condemn any non-peaceful demonstrations-"
A hand clapped down on Severus' shoulder and he nearly leapt from the bench. "Whoa!" laughed Avery from over his shoulder, releasing his grip and stepping back with an expression of mock-fear on his face. "Just me, Severus. Take it easy." He looked at the large clock above where McGonagall was still seated. "Jeez, you're up early, aren't you?"
"Well then, so are you," Severus replied coolly, trying to relocate the spot where he had been cut off. But Avery pulled the paper away from him, tossing it down the bench. Severus leaned over to retrieve it, and was irritated to feel Avery restraining his shoulder once more. "What do you-" he growled, looking at his roommate severely. "You can read the news later," he grinned, grabbing a cream cheese filled doughnut from one of the baskets next to him. "Mm goon tuh Huzm'ff," he said through a mouthful of pastry. Severus scowled. "Pardon?" Avery grabbed Severus' goblet and took a swig. "I'm going to Hogsmeade," he repeated, much more clearly this time. "Rosier is coming back today, an' I thought us two could go meet him there."
"Right this instant?" Severus asked, still eyeing the newspaper wistfully. "No, but soon," replied Avery. "I need to eat and shower…" he suddenly inspected Severus' appearance with much more attention. "Hey, where did you get off to last night, anyway? Are those the same clothes you were wearing at dinner?" Severus had always been pretty good at lying on the spot, though he preferred not to get too tangled up in explaining details. "I was trying to stay out of Filch's way," he began truthfully, standing up and ignoring the bread crust and remaining pieces of fruit on his plate. "I ended up hiding in one of the trophy rooms for so long I fell asleep." He winced as he stepped away from the bench. "My neck is killing me." Avery looked at him with disapproval. "You don't take enough risks, Severus."
"Right," the black-haired Slytherin agreed in order to speed up his escape. "Well, anyway, I'm going to shower while you eat, alright? Just meet me in the room when you want to head out." He reached for the paper, but Avery was too fast and snatched it up, setting it down on the table in front of him. "Don't worry, I'll hang onto this for you. I need some reading material if I'm going to have breakfast all by my lonesome. There's a good sport," he said snidely as Severus gave up and headed towards the dungeons.