DISCLAIMER:
Author: Well, we're officially back from a...
Sirius: Never-declared!
Author: ...hiatus. I blame chapter 38. It ties directly to... something... and I didn't want to post it until I knew what I was doing.
Severus: You've never known what you were doing.
James: Of course she does. -cough- Not. -cough- Has she steered us wrong yet?
Remus: Have you even read the last thirty-five chapters?
Author: But updates should progress faster now. Thanks for your patience!
Severus: Patience my a-
DEDICATION: Remus J. Lupin. This chapter wasn't originally planned (so many moons ago), but he just wouldn't let it be.
It Falls to the Young Chapter XXXVI:
The Care and Keeping of Severus Snape
After five and a half days unconscious in the Hospital Wing and four and a half days recuperating, Severus was allowed to return to classes. That was what Andromeda had said. She had not said he was "better," because even Remus—who had only the vaguest concept of Legilimency and was certainly not capable of reading minds—would have known it was a lie.
If Remus had occasionally fretted over the Severus who'd gone into the Hospital Wing, it was nothing compared to how he worried about the Severus who had come out.
This Severus was thinner, frailer, paler, and flinched at every gust of wind. He spent too much time staring into the fire, or the sky, or empty space. He spent his nights as Skittles, curled up on Remus' pillow; during the day he rarely spoke and never smiled. He was snappish even with the other Marauders, and had reduced five first-years to tears in as many days. Though he dutifully took the nutrition potions Andromeda sent him, he ate even less than before. His hands trembled, he seemed constantly tired, and his eyes...
His eyes made Remus want to hug him, call for Dumbledore, and murder Garridan Snape, all at once.
The only good news was that Davey and Frank, after having the situation explained to them, were very considerate about the whole affair. Alice—along with most of Gryffindor house—followed Frank's lead, and gave Severus plenty of space. Or maybe they'd seen the results of his latest row with Sirius, and were just trying to avoid being hexed. Lily, who could not stand to see anyone looking so upset, was actively working with the Marauders as they tried to coax Severus out of whatever darkness he'd retreated to, despite being subjected to a toenail-extending hex and some sort of translation charm that had her speaking in gibberish for three hours.
James—who had been avoiding Severus like nundu's breath ever since an encounter that left him with no fingers and some impressive cleavage—had gone on his knee in the middle of the common room, declared her the bravest Gryffindor of all in a stirring speech that equated bravery to sexiness, and offered to reward her with a kiss. Or seventeen.
She must have managed some sort of conversation with Severus, because soon afterwards James was also sporting elongated toenails.
Yet Remus worried. Severus continued to not-improve, and it had been days, and they were having absolutely no luck whatsoever... But Severus was the least of his problems tonight; tonight was the full moon.
The door to the Shrieking Shack's bedroom creaked open and there Padfoot, Prongs and Skittles stood, framed by the darkness of the landing outside. Remus smiled at them. "You might as well change back; you're ridiculously early." James and Sirius flopped onto the bed beside him, sending tiny clouds of dust through the air; Severus curled up by the pillows and ran a hand wearily over his eyes... and suddenly Remus could not stand it anymore.
"For Merlin's sake, Severus, could you just tell us what's wrong?"
Severus stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"
"You know what I'm talking about. What did you see under Insomemoria that's messed you up so badly?"
Severus didn't remove his hand from his eyes. He wrapped his other arm around himself and didn't say a word.
Sirius leaned forward. "Talking about it helps, Sev—"
"There's nothing to talk about," Severus hissed. "And if you continue to persist in this inane, misguided, impudent—Gryffindorish—attempt to—to—" Sirius frowned and moved closer, raised his hand to gesture... His sleeve brushed Severus' and Severus flinched backwards, instantly silent.
Sirius froze. Severus finally lowered his hand and they all stared at each other a moment, Sirius' mouth hanging slightly open.
"Like hell there isn't."
Severus' head drooped and Sirius continued: "When one of my best friends, the absolute bravest person I know, is suddenly scared of me..."
"You promised, Sev," James said abruptly. "After the Order meeting, remember? You promised to let us try to help you."
There was a short silence. When Severus spoke it was with a quiet, defeated voice that didn't suit him at all. "I... I—it's nothing. It's really—I'm just having trouble with Occlumency."
"What's that to do with anything?" Sirius asked.
"A proper Occlumency shield—" Severus sniffed, sounding very academic, and Remus watched the tension in his shoulders lessen slightly, "—not the puerile, blatantly obvious construction Greebe has—is not really a shield at all. It's more like the layers of a cake. You put the memories everyone can see on top, then the ones everyone can see although you'd prefer them not to, then the ones only a few people can see... and so forth." He demonstrated with brisk, scientific-looking hand gestures. "A proper Occlumency shield has at least three layers, each of which is protected."
James blinked. "That… sounds complicated. So, knowing you, you've got, what, six layers?"
"Nine. The first four are simply to throw people off track, the next four have the important information... and the last is double-sided, because I don't want to remember any of that unless it's absolutely necessary."
Remus thought he could see where this was going. "But when you took the Insomemoria... it went through them all?"
"It ripped through them like nothing else has ever been able to. Everything's in shreds, tangled up, the good and bad twisted together. Nothing's in the right place and all the things I've kept locked away are out in the open... And I... I don't… I don't know if I can stand to sort them all back out..." Severus shuddered at the thought.
"Do you want us to help?"
They stared at Sirius incredulously.
"I mean, I doubt we could actually do very much, but we could come along. For moral—mental?—support. Hover in the background and whatnot."
"Is that even possible" asked James.
"Is it possible for us to talk in each other's heads? Is it possible that Quintaped puke makes us super-wizards? Is it possible that after fourteen thousand years of trying Prongs finally got a date with Lil—"
"We get the picture," James interrupted, shoving his hand over Sirius' mouth.
Remus turned towards Severus, who seemed to be having an inner struggle with the idea. "That might..." Severus paused a moment, surveying their faces. "That... might be good. It might. Could we do it now, quickly, before I change my mind?"
Remus nodded; Severus tugged at his mind and suddenly he was gone.
He was Severus Snape and he was laying on his bed staring at the spider crawling up his knee but he couldn't brush it off because he'd been petrified for the last two days and he was so hungry it hurt...
He was Severus Snape and he was playing wizard's chess with Albus Dumbledore and he was winning and Fawkes was singing happily in the corner...
He was Severus Snape and he was brewing a batch of Amortentia and it was coming along nicely and he was feeling slightly proud of his efforts and enjoying the sweet smell of old books and warm summer days and chocolate which he knew he loved although he'd only ever had one piece...
He was Severus Snape and he was being teased by the Gryffindor gang and they'd stolen his Transfiguration homework and glued all his books together and McGonagall had given him detention...
He was Severus Snape and he was cleaning the kitchen as fast as he could because he had to be done before Father came home but his arm was broken and it was slowing him down...
He was Severus Snape and he was trembling from the Cruciatus and bowing before the Dark Lord...
He was Severus Snape and he was in Diagon Alley with Remus and Ted and they were having ice-cream and waiting for the others to leave the Quidditch store...
He was Severus Snape and he was seeing the sun for the very first time and was squinting at the brightness and it was wonderful and he wanted to smile but didn't because Father would be furious...
Then the memories began to blur together, moving too fast for Remus to follow, spinning around him like a vortex of light and dark and all the shades in between. It was either seconds or years later when he opened his eyes and found himself back in the Shrieking Shack, on the dusty duvet, with James and Sirius. Severus' eyes were closed and he appeared to be still lost in memory. They met each others' eyes and nodded, waiting silently, tense with anticipation. Perhaps fifteen minutes later Severus opened his eyes and slowly, tentatively, smiled.
Remus felt himself relax for the first time in two weeks.
"Thank you," Severus whispered, running his fingers along the pillow and not meeting their eyes. "I… It wasn't half as hard as I'd imagined, and I know it didn't take but ten minutes—but still. I... I really didn't want to, and you sort of forced me to, and so... thanks."
"No problem." Sirius grinned and struck a noble pose. "Sometimes," he said in a booming, deep voice, "we must do things we'd rather not, for the greater good."
"And I'm sure you'll remember that in our next Potions class," Severus answered dryly.
The next half-hour of conversation was trivial in comparison and mostly consisted of Sirius and Severus ganging up on James to tease him about his upcoming date. James didn't mind at all, both because it was a sign that Severus was definitely on the mend, and because any mention of Lily made him grin like an idiot.
Finally the moon rose, as it always did—bringing with it the agony of transformation, the part of the night Remus did not care to remember. He did remember the hours that followed, in bits and pieces: the thrill of running free beneath the huge, golden moon, the sight of a winged cat circling in loops across the sky as they rounded the lake, the fun of wrestling with his pack-brother Padfoot, the reflection in the cool lake waters of a stag, tall and noble...
And then he was lying on the dusty bed and Severus was pressing a bar of chocolate into his hand. "Eat." Remus obeyed as he sat up—exhausted and sore—to survey the extraordinary scene before him.
Someone had conjured up a tiny fire, which was floating just over the center of the bed. Sirius was fiddling with an elaborate silver tea service; James was whistling and toasting toast over the flames. "What kind of jam do you like, Sev?"
"Strawberry, please—and cream but no sugar in the tea."
"Righto," Sirius said, passing him a cup. "Don't forget to stick your pinky finger out when you drink; it makes you look more dignified."
"You sound like Nymphadora," Remus murmured.
"Everything she knows she learned from me," Sirius said proudly. "Here's yours, Moony—cream and a disgusting amount of sugar, correct?"
Remus nodded and accepted the cup; he took a long drink and was startled by how much better he felt. "Did you add anything besides cream and sugar, Padfoot?"
"Just a painkiller I nicked from Andromeda—it's the one she normally gives you anyway, so no harm done. Grape or strawberry jam?"
There was more than enough tea and toast and chocolate to go around. Remus eventually learned that it had been Sirius' idea—who else would come up with something so wonderfully bizarre, after all?—and he found himself feeling far more comfortable than he normally did after a transformation: sipping his tea, leaning on the pillows beside Severus and listening to Sirius sing—poorly—an odd song he'd learned from Hagrid about some bloke named Odo...
The door opened just as Sirius finished the seventh verse; Andromeda and McGonagall stared at them in something akin to shock.
James grinned cheekily and held up the teapot. "Care for a cuppa?"
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