From that day forward, things were a lot less frosty between the two of them. They would sit next to each other at staff meetings, and he would grab a seat next to her at meals. Remus didn't mind. He was glad to see that she was happy - they'd talked about how she worried Sev might have decided to shut her out - and had plenty of time to catch up with her in the corridors, since their classrooms were practically next to each other.

One afternoon Hazel sat in her classroom, flipping through a book on dementors. She'd been met with their chilling presence the moment she set foot on campus. As one of the best people to defend against them, she was brushing up on their species when Remus stuck his head in the door, asking if she was free. "We're tackling the boggart in the staff room, if you've time to meet us down there. The third years are going to have fun with this one."

"I'll meet you down there in a bit," she promised. Luckily enough, she arrived just in time to see Neville Longbottom turn a boggart version of Sev into his grandmother, stuffed-vulture hat, red handbag, ruffled dress, and all. She couldn't help but to laugh, even though she knew he would hate it. Given how fast gossip traveled around the castle, Sev would know by lunchtime.

"Want to try?" Remus asked, the two of them leaning on the wall as the students lined up to take their turn facing off with the boggart. "I'm sure you'd be able to banish it for good, once all the students have had a go."

"I don't think you'd want to see it," she told him, clapping for Pavarti Patil as she successfully banished her boggart.

"I don't think I ever have. We had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins that year if I remember right. Excellent job! Ron, you next!"

As Ron stepped up to face a giant spider, nearly the size of a fully-grown Acromantula. "It's Voldemort, with all of my closest friends lying dead at his feet. The last time I ran into one… well, I don't think the students should have to see him."

Remus nodded, applauding and motioning one of the Slytherins forward. "And Snape's?" She frowned, but he explained that, "I remember you telling me about the one in Astronomy Tower when we were in school. I assume that's how you two mastered the spell so early."

"You're not to breathe a word of this to anyone," she warned, Remus promising that he would be sworn to secrecy. Hazel lowered her voice even more, saying, "I hope you don't take it personally. It's not your fault, remember, but it's a fully grown werewolf. The Greyback kind. That's how - he still sees all of them like that, like the… the one he saw when he was fifteen. And I imagine the ones he, uh, worked with, later on weren't very nice either. He can turn it into the friendliest puppy without much thought, but it's still stuck in his head, even after all these years."

With a sigh, he motioned for Seamus to step up. "I'm still sorry that ever happened," he answered, his eyes trained on the students and the boggart, which had suddenly taken the shape of a banshee.

"You don't have to blame yourself. It wasn't your fault."

"After all these years and everything he's seen, that's still one of the things that terrifies him the most." Remus shook his head, thinking back to the morning he'd run from the Shrieking Shack to Dumbledore's office, knowing that something was wrong and praying all the way there that he hadn't hurt anyone.

"I think, given the time, he'd see Voldemort and his father, but werewolves are the most… flashy, I suppose? The most fun for a boggart to turn into, of the three? It's not always your greatest fear, it's the embodiment of the concept behind it. Like yours," she clarified. Hazel politely applauded for Seamus, watching as Dean swapped places with him. "He's started - the last full moon he came to find me. At first I thought it was a coincidence, that he came to say hello then, but he was back the next night. He's done so much and he's still afraid."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It was Sirius who did it. You said it yourself, you didn't know that's what he was planning. He doesn't blame you," she assured him, checking her watch. "I've got to get going. My sixth-years should be arriving soon. Catch you at dinner, though?"

Remus nodded, a heavy look of worry in his eyes.

While the chatter in the corridors was all about Neville's boggart, the chatter amongst the staff was about the dementors and how Azkaban had sent more of them in response to a string of Sirius Black sightings in Dufftown, not far from Hogwarts. The chatter soon reached the students, who were more afraid than ever. Additional dementors had arrived at the school, much to everyone's displeasure.

As the next full moon rolled around, everyone was both on edge and worn out by the constant dreariness of the castle. It was a rainy Friday morning when Hazel took a little-known shortcut that saved her several flights of stairs, emerging from behind a painting of Amara the Wise, who had fallen down a well and granted wishes to Muggles in exchange for help escaping. She'd been burned at the stake when she fed an entire village, her last act of mercy being curing a child in the crowd of pox. The dungeons looked even darker today, with no light at all filtering in from the lake.

An artificial light spilled onto the floor from a small door down the hall. She'd hardly ever seen it open. Professor Slughorn kept it locked whenever he wasn't in the room, only granting the key to his most trusted students if he needed them to run out for more ingredients. It was rare for him not to have what he needed in the storeroom next to his office. She supposed Sev did the same.

He was balanced on a ladder, cataloguing things on the top shelves. "Death adder venom," he mumbled, adding it to a running list. "Good morning." She'd seen him a few hours ago at breakfast, but now they were both on a quick break before their next classes.

"Hi." Hazel stopped in the doorway, watching as he rifled through a box. "How do you always know when it's me?"

"I just do. Besides, I can see you from up here. You are welcome to walk in here, it's hardly forbidden."

"What about all of the kids who would definitely try to steal some of this stuff? Aren't you going to keep track of who's been in here?"

"I doubt you are the type to steal from my personal stores… anymore. I do seem to remember a couple of precocious potioneers who would break into Professor Slughorn's personal stores fairly often." He climbed down, Hazel suddenly aware of how small the Potions Storeroom was. It had seemed a lot bigger the first time Professor Slughorn had given her the key, sending her off to grab more lacewing flies in the middle of class. It felt like it took forever to find anything in there, but now it was just an average broom closet, albeit a little taller. "Are you looking for something?"

She leaned against one of the shelves, confessing, "I was looking for you, actually. I normally work in spells, but I want to show the first-years a ghost cleansing ritual - for the non-malevolent and not too troublesome ones, you know? Pomona's out of Angelica root, and I figured you might have some."

He thought for a second before climbing the ladder, passing her down a handful of the dried stems. "Will that work?"

"Perfect. Thanks, Sev."

Both of them lingered for a little longer than they normally would have. Finally Snape spoke, pocketing the list that he had been making. "What are you doing later on today?"

"Working?" she smiled, holding up the dried Angelica root. "I have the first years, then lunch, then the second years and my N.E.W.T. class to round out the afternoon. Oh, and I was going to stop by and visit Remus before moonrise. Why?"

He shook his head, holding the door open for her. "No reason. I - I'll see you at lunch."

"Yeah, I'll see you later," she frowned, wondering what was on his mind as she climbed back up to her office through the secret passageway.

She didn't have to wait very long to find out. Sev was supremely distracted through lunch and ended up missing dinner, even though he'd only picked at his food earlier in the day. Hazel didn't think too much of it at first, since he was busy with his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. classes that afternoon and as always, incredibly tired. She'd just left Remus and settled in with a book when there was a knock in her door. It couldn't have been him - the moon was rising, and he'd made her lock him in his office as she left.

A very worn-out Sev stood in front of the door, a book in his hands. "Sorry to bother you," he said, noticing that she'd changed into her pajamas and looked like she was winding down for the day. "I found this in my personal library and thought you might like it."

"Ghosts and Ghouls of Great Britain, Fifth Edition," she read, turning the book over in her hands. "Thanks, Sev. I've been meaning to hunt this down in the library." One look at him told her that she had to ask. "Do you want to come in for a bit?"

They sat up talking for a while, but when they both started to yawn, Hazel realized why he was back. Of course. It was a full moon. "You can stay, if you want," she offered. "If it would make you feel better. I do have a sofa."

"Why would I be worried?" He was a little too defensive.

"I never said you were, which means you are," she answered with a sly smile. "Sev, I see you in the corridors, I sit next to you in the Great Hall, but you only show up here this late at night when there's a full moon. I think you're worried about Remus, and I'm the only one who knows you're still… uneasy about werewolves, and I think you'd rather not be alone when there's a werewolf in the castle, even if he's completely harmless, because you still see the thing that almost killed you when you were a kid. Not to mention Sirius Black and the dementors and all."

He stared into the fire, sighed, and finally asked, "You wouldn't mind?"

"No, you're welcome to stay if it'll make you feel better." She stood, waving her wand and summoning a pile of pillows and blankets. "Bathroom's right off of my room, if you want to change while I get this all set up."

He disappeared for a second, returning in dark pajamas that she could tell he'd hung onto for a few years. "Thank you," he said, coming over to give her an awkward hug.

Hazel smiled, telling him again not to worry. "It's fine, Sev. I'll leave my door open in case you need anything."

It didn't feel like they had been asleep for long before Hazel woke up, hearing someone talking. She lit her wand, walking out into the living room to find Sev talking in his sleep. "Please don't - not werewolves, anything but - please don't hurt -"

"Sev." She crouched down next to him, shaking his shoulder. He bolted up, Hazel telling him, "It's fine, it's me." He blinked, registering where he was. "Werewolves?"

"Yeah," he managed as Hazel waved her wand towards the dying fire. The embers sparked into fully-grown flames again, lighting up the room a little more. "Sorry I woke you up." She sat on the sofa beside him, Sev moving a bit to make room for her. "I usually take a Potion for Dreamless Sleep during full moons, or at least I have since the start of term. I know you're not supposed to take them very often, so I've been trying to taper off, but…" He shrugged, the silence telling her all she needed to know.

In that moment, she saw the same scared fifth-year who would sleep on the sofa in Ravenclaw Tower sometimes, or send her owls in the middle of the night when he'd woken from a particularly bad nightmare. He wasn't the hardened Death Eater (Though was he ever? Were any of them?) or the repentant man who had marched into the Wizengamot to petition for his freedom knowing that he may have had his soul removed right there, or the stoic professor that was the bane of half of the students at Hogwarts. He was the boy who would show up to breakfast exhausted the morning after a full moon, still afraid that the werewolf would find its way into the castle and hunt him down. No one would mind if he sat next to Hazel at breakfast, the Ravenclaws moving over to make room for him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't - it's been ages. I shouldn't still be like this."

"You're not allowed to be afraid of anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. It was a tone she had stolen from Dumbledore, the tone he adopted when he would ask her something so obvious to get over a roadblock she'd put up in her own mind.

"I shouldn't be," he said, steadying himself. "Not werewolves, of all things. I've seen much worse."

"That's not how our brains work," she told him matter-of-factly. "I still have nightmares about coming home for Mum's funeral. And Dad's. I've seen a hell of a lot worse as an Auror. I've done so much worse as an Auror. But we were kids when that stuff happened. Younger than we were when I went to the Auror Office and you went to the Death Eaters, anyway. It sticks with you. I'll tell you what," she gave him a weary smile, "I'm exhausted. Why don't you take the other side of the bed, so you're really not alone?"

He was hesitant. He wanted to insist that he was fine, that the werewolves and dementors and the looming promise of Sirius Black's return hadn't been bothering him all term. But the tenderness in her voice, the genuine concern on her face in the firelight, overtook all of it. So he followed her, though he insisted on taking the side closer to the door.

When he woke up in the morning, the first thing he realized was that he hadn't had any more nightmares about werewolves. Or anything else for that matter. The second thing he realized, the moment he opened his eyes, was that he wasn't alone. Hazel was still asleep, sunlight illuminating the flame-colored hair that had fallen into her face. The third thing he realized was that one of them had reached out for the other in their sleep, and they were still somewhat holding hands. He'd woken like this before, back when he'd practically fallen onto her doorstep, begging her to help him before a ghastly curse ate through his torso. Since then he'd had the occasional dream about it, but always woke up alone in the cold dungeons.

As he lay there, he decided not to move, afraid of waking her and afraid of admitting that he rather liked this. It was a lot more comforting than the emptiness of his rooms in the dungeons. Though he didn't want to admit it, he'd missed her. He'd missed this, even though he had no clue what this was. But he did know that he felt better than he had all term, and that she had the unique ability to make him smile no matter how bad of a mood he was in when she showed up in his classroom.

When he felt her starting to stir, he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. Very slowly, he opened his eyes just enough to see her smile for a second. She squeezed his hand lightly before getting up as gently as possible so she wouldn't wake him. He could hear her walking around for a bit, humming to herself. Something by the Weird Sisters, though he would never be able to remember the name of the song. Eventually she left the room, so he sat up and stretched, looking around for a second before going to find her.

"G'morning,' she smiled, pouring cups of coffee for both of them. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time. Thank you." He took one of the mugs from her, hesitating for a moment. "Erm, Hazel, would you, well, there are two nights where the moon is full. Would you mind…?"

"Of course not. Now I've got to get ready for breakfast and be off to oversee the Hogsmeade trip, but I should be back well before dark. Maybe I'll see if I can pick up some Butterbeer. Oh, is there anything you'd want from Honeyduke's?"