It had been a week, but it felt as though Halloween night had never truly ended. The school had awoken the following morning to a deluge of thunderstorms, the suspected displeasure of the Dementors having not been allowed onto the grounds to search the castle for their prey, no doubt. The weather only seemed to intensify the charged atmosphere of the school after the break in of Sirius Black, with time slogging by in a murky miasma of whispers, rumors and rainfall. And you weren't immune to it, even as a teacher. The entirety of your third year Muggle Studies class the following day had been spent talking about the break in, and attempting to ease the fears and anxieties of your students. But you felt particularly ill equipped for the task; Halloween night had been a brutal, glaring display of your own incompetence, and you still weren't over being faced by your own magical limitations. It was becoming a vicious cycle, of knowing your magic was deteriorating because you were depressed, and feeling depressed because your magic was dwindling. And you had been so caught up in your own ineptitude, that the approaching full moon had completely slipped your mind until it was suddenly upon you.

It was the second moon since you had arrived at Hogwarts, and you had been no more prepared for this one than the last, once again depending on Severus to aid you in your task. At least you had managed to spend the evening in your own bed this time, as opposed to the stone floor, but you had gotten about as much sleep as the first time; which was to say, none at all. It hadn't been existential dread keeping you awake this time though. Instead, you had up all night, sick with worry.

Last night, you had taken it upon yourself to deliver the final dose of Wolfsbane Potion to Remus, and when you had arrived at his office, you were not greeted by the usual cheerful smile and casual flirting you'd grown accustomed to. Though it wasn't unusual for werewolves to become restless or paranoid before the full moon, even with the Wolfsbane Potion, what you found had been far beyond typical lupine agitation; Remus looked abysmal. Gaunt and pallid, he'd become a shadow of the man you'd grown close to over the last few months, and you had no idea how or when this change had occurred.

You'd spent the entire night fretting over it, and in your agonizing, you'd come to the conclusion that you had been so wrapped up in your own bullshit, that you had completely failed to notice that the last time you had even seen Remus, had been Halloween night. He hadn't come to visit your office during the week, nor had you made the effort to go to his. You hadn't seen him in the staff room during breaks or between classes. And most concerning, you couldn't recall seeing him in the Great Hall for a meal once since Halloween. You'd had half a mind to summon Flopsy and ask her if he'd been taking his meals in his rooms, like Professor Trelawney, but knew that was probably an invasion of privacy. So instead… you had spent the night beating yourself up about it. You couldn't cast a protective charm. You couldn't brew a potion. The one thing that you could do, the simple task of looking after the emotional and physical wellbeing of this particular werewolf… and you had managed to fuck that up too.

Can't you do anything right?

It had been a difficult transformation for Remus, it seemed. When you had arrived back at his office in the morning, Severus' protective wards melting away under your fingertips, you had found Remus much as you had the last time; passed out, nude, prone on his office floor in a sprawl of scarred limbs. But this time, you had also found speckles of blood on the floor, the vermillion droplets burning bright against the pale grey stone. Fighting against the panic, you were relieved when your diagnostic spell had revealed only a few small cuts on his hairline and brow. And the source of the cuts became apparent when you found dried blood under his fingernails. Of course, it could have simply been an accident; Wolfsbane potion might relieve the symptoms of transformation, but it didn't dull teeth or shorten claws. However, you weren't so sure that the injury could be attributed to mere accident. Remus already had a litany of old scars on his face… and you knew exactly the sort of self-harm a werewolf could inflict, when there was nothing else around to bite or scratch…

Remus was in his bed now. You'd rubbed healing balm into his cuts, and had used a cloth to clean up the blood from both his face and his hands. You'd successfully Scourgifyed the blood from the stone floor as well, and when all had settled, there'd been nothing left to do but wait. Not in his bed this time, but in an arm chair (that you had, admittedly, pulled over to be very close to his bed). He'd slept deeply for most of the morning, and when he finally roused, it hadn't been for very long. You'd given him a headache relieving potion, forced him to drink a glass of water and eat a piece of toast, but as you'd wiped the last crumb from his chin, he'd fallen asleep again. He'd been like a child in those few waking moments, sighing and complaining weakly, but also leaning into every touch, seeking comfort and kindness in a way that stirred something primal deep in your chest. He'd be more coherent tomorrow morning, but you could tell that he would be spending the remainder of this day in bed.

You thought about staying. About canceling your afternoon class (the only class you had today) and parking yourself in the chair beside his bed. Standing vigil, staying close at hand, to make up for your negligence from the last week. You were, frankly, disgusted with yourself, for the way you'd essentially abandoned him, when he'd clearly been in dire need of some care. Just as alarming as the suspected self-harm, Remus had also lost a great deal of weight in a short amount of time. Nothing was hidden from your clinical eye as he'd been laid bare on the floor, the ridges of his spine and ribs had been just as concerning as the blood on the floor. It made you feel ill, to know you had failed him so utterly. And now you were determined to make it up to him.

But what good would it do, to sit at his bedside and wind yourself up further? He was stable. You'd cleaned him up, mended his wounds, made sure he ate, and you knew (you knew) that he would be asleep for the next twelve hours, at least. You could order Flopsy to keep an eye on him, to summon you, or Poppy, or anyone really, should things go awry. You could check up on him yourself periodically, and once he was finally out of this post-transformation fatigue, you could speak with him in detail about his condition. Because you weren't certain that it was only due to his lycanthropy that his health had so rapidly declined.

You sighed heavily as you exited Remus' quarters, leaning against the door as you centered yourself with a deep breath. This was bad. You were so unbearably soft for him, that if you didn't leave now, there was a good chance you'd end up in his bed again. It wasn't just that he reminded you of Desma or Ismet anymore. It wasn't your caring nature simply imprinting itself onto someone in need. You'd become genuinely fond of the man over the last two months. You valued his friendship, treasured his kind smiles and easy laughter. It was nice. He was nice. And it only made your carelessness cut deeper. You just wanted him to be okay…

(And you though he was uncomplicated.)

The sudden clang of the school bells made you jump slightly, and you groaned at your own skittishness as you pulled back the sleeve of your jumper, you watch face revealing that it was time for lunch. You realized with a wash of shame that you had been sitting vigil by his bed for nearly seven hours, which was sort of mortifying when you thought too hard about it. Rubbing your hand against your burning cheek, you allowed yourself one more petulant sigh, before telling yourself to get a fucking grip and go get something to eat. You had a class to teach in just over an hour. Maybe you could squeeze in a power nap at your desk…

You had just made it across Remus' office when you became abruptly aware of a voice speaking from the other side of the door. Snatching your hand away from the latch, you felt a shock of humiliation bristle on the back of your neck. You'd almost walked into an ongoing class, and wouldn't that look wildly suspicious without any context. With a tiny groan, you gently placed your forehead against the door, resigning yourself to waiting for the class to clear out before you left. The last thing you wanted was to exit Remus' office, when it was abundantly clear that you had not entered it during the course of the current class period.

"You will each write an essay," the voice beyond the door commanded, and your apprehension spiraled anew at that familiar, silky baritone. Shit. Fuck. You knew Severus was substituting Defense Against the Dark Arts today. You'd been at the staff meeting when he'd volunteered for the position. Why then were you so surprised to hear his voice? Straightening up, you turned your head to press an ear to the door, holding your breath as Severus continued his assignment.

"To be handed to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment…"

But you didn't hear anything else after that. It was as though someone had pressed down the volume button on the rest of the world, and the only thing you could hear was the sound of blood rushing through your veins, the thud of your heartbeat as it pounded against your ribcage, the suck and push of your breath in and out of your suddenly shallow lungs. Your head felt fuzzy and dull, like it was full of cotton. But then the cotton was set on fire, and you wanted to scream.

You remained frozen by the door, you ear still pressed to the wood panel. The class had cleared out, and though you could still hear conversation from the other side, you were barely registering any of it. Detention… hospital wing… scrubbing bedpans… None of it mattered. Your mind was howling, your fingers itching to do… something. Throttle the bastard, maybe. No need for hexes. Just good old fashioned muggle ingenuity. The son of a bitch, how dare he! But under the flare of white hot anger was a crippling despair that felt dangerously close to grief. Never in your life had you wanted so desperately to be wrong about someone… When he'd told you that you barely knew him, you hadn't been expecting something like this. But the evidence was irrefutable. You'd heard the words come directly from his mouth. Recognize and kill werewolves.

A door slammed and you jumped, glancing over your shoulder. Not Remus' door… the classroom door then. Was the classroom empty now? You lowered your head, pressing your ear to the wooden panel, desperately hoping the coast was clear so you could leave, escape to your quarters, to try and calm down and think about this rationally. But there were… footsteps. Climbing the stairs, up to the office. Your heartrate spiked, fluttering dangerously in your throat as you scrambled away from the door, your backside hitting Remus' desk, leaving you cornered, trapped. This was too soon, too fast. You hadn't had a chance to think about what you would say, how you would approach him, which hex you would use-

You were panting when Severus opened the door, and for a brief moment, he looked startled to see you; a bare tick of one eyebrow, and miniscule widening of his eyes, before he schooled his features back into cold neutrality. He left one hand resting on the door handle, a thick textbook tucked against his side under his other arm. He straightened up in the doorway, his eyes piercing yours, but he didn't have to read your mind to know you'd heard everything. It should have been obvious in your red face, your shaking arms, your ragged breath. He took a calming breath of his own, before opening his mouth. "Gwendo-"

"Shut up."

It was out before you could stop it. You weren't entirely sure that you'd wanted to stop it. Your nails dug into the lip of the desk under your hips, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to catch your breath. Your face felt hot, flushed from the top of your head to the base of your neck, and you were trying so hard not to just explode. You needed more time, a moment to think, to gather your thoughts, because if you didn't reel it in you were going to say something you would deeply regret.

The door shut with a soft click and you felt him move beside you, felt the thump of the textbook being placed on the desk. There was a pause, an agonizing beat of complete silence that begged to be filled with a scream, and you nearly did so when you felt a hand placed on your arm. "Gwen-"

The touch felt like fire, and you twisted away from its burn, but it was too late; it had already ignited your fury.

"Just shut up, Severus!" you cried, the sound of it awful and grating in your ears. You turned your back to him, your hands flying into your hair, palms covering your ears, because if you heard your name on his lips one more time, you were really going to snap. You were trembling, but he wisely didn't try to touch you again. You could still feel that he was near though, could feel his eyes on your back, and you wanted to curl up, to shy away from it. But he didn't speak again. Didn't try to touch you. And in that lull, you struggled to find the words.

"How…?" your voice was creaky, tight with tears, but softer now as you turned back around to look him in the eye. His face was still stone, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the hardening of the lines around his eyes. He was apprehensive. Good. He should be.

"How could you?" you finally asked, lowering your hands from your hair, instead twisting your fists within the sleeves of your jumper. "Was it all a lie? All those things you said when I came back?" The crease between his eyebrows deepened. Confusion? You would be more than happy to explain. "That… That my potion could help shift public perception? That people are less afraid of a dog with a muzzle on?" Your voice cracked that time, tears welling white hot in the corners of your eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to cry, the sobs stuck in your throat. "That you were proud of me?" You swept you hand sharply through the empty air between you. "Did you mean any of it?"

Severus appeared to be searching for his words very carefully, his lips a thin, tight line on his pale face. But you knew, the moment he opened his mouth, that there was nothing he could possibly say that would be the right thing in this moment. "Gwendolyn," he spoke softly, and you flinched, because it was painful to hear him say your name so coaxingly. "It isn't like that."

"Like hell it isn't!" you shrieked, and it was his turn to flinch away from you, taking a step back. You actually stamped your foot on the ground as you advanced on him, your hands balling up into fists at your side. "I'm not fucking stupid, Severus! You've been hostile towards Remus since day one!" You jabbed a finger across the desk, towards the door to Remus' quarters, the words tumbling out of your mouth with no hope of damming them up as you continued your tirade. "It's not like your… your bigotry has been subtle. All this time you've had it out for him, and he hasn't even done anything to you except be a werewo-!"

"Silencio!"

You gasped, recoiling, your hands flying out in front of you as his wand was suddenly brandished before your eyes. The flash of fear made your knees weak, but you saw that the tip of his wand wasn't pointed in your direction. You followed its aim with your eyes in time to see the ripple of the magical sound barrier solidifying against Remus' door. Severus then turned his wand on the classroom door, before casting the same spell on it. He kept his wand in his hand as he faced you once again. Gone was his cool placidity, replaced instead with genuine frustration, and worst of all, disappointment. He heaved another deep breath, before sliding his wand back into his sleeve.

"May I speak now?"

His voice was deathly calm, and you cringed at the sound of it, feeling like a little girl again. Lowering your hands, you pulled them back into the sleeves of your jumper, twisting the elastic cuffs between your fingers, just to give them something to do as you nodded slowly. You wanted to drop your eyes away from his, the intensity of his gaze making you feel very young, which… you were. You felt a wash of shame at your outburst, but what you did not feel was regret. Because you wouldn't take back a word of it. He closed his eyes a moment, perhaps relieved by your acquiescence, and the stiff set of his shoulders dropped slightly as he took a steadying breath.

"You're right," he said bluntly as he placed a hand against the desk beside him, leaning into it as if already exhausted with this conversation, and you frowned at this awfully perfunctory statement. "I have had it out for Lupin from the beginning. I've been against his employment at this school from the moment Albus suggested it. And I am trying to get him fired." His voice was so calm, so nonchalant, that you could have hexed him for being so casual over what he was saying. He wasn't even denying it, and you were fucking livid. You opened your mouth to tell him as much, but his withering glare had you swallowing your words.

"But not because he's a werewolf."

You scoffed, crossing your arms with an irritated huff as you barely restrained the urge to roll your eyes. As if you were going to believe that. But Severus was standing at his full height again, and though he wasn't much taller than you, you suddenly felt very small as he advanced. "I want Lupin gone," he hissed, "because when we were students here at Hogwarts, he was best friends with Sirius Black."

The space around you fell silent again, punctuated only by the internal whisper of all the blood leaving your face. You felt woozy. Nauseous. Your mouth had fallen open, but you couldn't find anything to say, utterly dumbstruck by this allegation. Because what he'd just revealed absolutely could not be true, but that conflicted greatly with the reality that Severus had never lied to you in your life. You shook your head minutely, shifting your crossed arms, hugging you elbows tightly as you meekly stammered, "W-What?"

Severus' face was grave as he looked you over, taking in your wilting appearance, but apparently he wasn't feeling terribly sympathetic today as he rolled his eyes at you. "I suppose he's failed to mention that, during all of your little tea dates?" His tone was venomously spiteful, and your breath caught in your throat, hurt by his (all too accurate) accusation. You frowned, shrinking away and staring down at the floor, your fingers digging into your arms as you tried to make yourself smaller.

(You wouldn't feel compelled to spend all of your time with Remus if Severus would just…)

Any satisfaction he might have felt at your discomfort seemed to drain away instantly, and he looked painfully exhausted as he rubbed his forehead with one pale hand, the other leaning against the desk again. "I know that you mean well," he muttered, and you grasped that his vindictiveness was not really directed towards you. "But he is not the man you think he is. When I…" He paused, dropping his hand from his face, letting it fall to his side as he gazed across the room at you. And you felt your breath hitch in your chest again; not because you were offended, or frightened. But because you knew the look he was giving you. The profound sorrow. The abundance of grief. Too much, for a man so young to bare. You recognized that he was about to tell you something important, and you nodded slowly for him to continue. You understood. You wouldn't tell.

Severus returned your nod curtly, glancing towards the door to Remus' quarters, before he turned away from it entirely, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms over his chest. "When I was a student here, I was regularly accosted by Lupin's group of friends," he began, seemingly through gritted teeth. His voice was steely, like he just wanted to get this over with, and you noted that he wasn't looking at you, his eyes cast down towards the floor. "A gang of four Gryffindor's, which happened to include Sirius Black. Nothing I'm telling you is a secret, by the way." He glanced up at you then, and you started slightly at the shift in tone. "You can search the school archives to see who was in Gryffindor between '71 and '78. Or you could ask Minerva about it, if you like."

You frowned at his insinuation, but recognized that you certainly didn't appear to be giving him the benefit of the doubt, bent over as you were, in a defensive position like a frightened animal. Unfolding your arms, you took a step towards him, before hesitantly deciding to settle beside him. You carefully pushed yourself up to sit on the edge of the desk, and he turned his head slightly in order to look up at you. You swallowed against your dry mouth, your hands in your lap, fiddling with the sleeves of your jumper again. "I don't need to ask her," you said timidly. "I believe you."

Severus considered you for a moment, and you made an effort not to look away as you felt the long forgotten, but familiar sensation of beetles digging through earth, scuttling around on the inside of your skull as he peered far past your hazel eyes. He hadn't done this in a while… or rather, you hadn't allowed him to do it for a while. He'd attempted it, two months ago, outside of the Hog's Head when he'd been trying to glean the source of your malaise before you were ready to divulge it. But the last time you had willingly let him in had been in your sixth year, on that rainy day on Hogsmeade. Though, there was the time you'd begged him to do it on the bathroom floor of the Atticus. But he hadn't needed to. Because he knew. You still didn't know what it was, but you didn't have anything to hide from him this time. Not anymore.

Severus searched your eyes for several long seconds, before he seemed satisfied with whatever he'd found (sincerity, perhaps?). "As I was saying…" he murmured, returning his eyes to the floor, his fingers twitching at the crooks of his elbows, as if he didn't quite know what to do with his hands either. "Those four were a perpetual grievance, so naturally, I was determined to figure out a way to get them all expelled." You frowned a little, watching his profile as his expression soured with each word. "I'd believed that I'd found my opportunity, when I put together the pattern of Lupin's monthly absences from class, and their subsequent correspondence with the cycle of the moon. But I didn't have any proof." Your little frown deepened, but you held your tongue from saying anything. You'd promised you would hear him out, and besides: who were you to judge someone for their reaction to harassment as a child? You'd punched a boy square in the nose for similar reasons, after all.

"Sirius Black had thought it would be tremendously entertaining," he continued, "to tell me that if I wanted to know where Lupin went every month, I need only prod the knot on the trunk of the Whomping Willow, and follow the tunnel under its roots." You blinked stupidly, turning your head to face the windows that looked out over the grounds. You couldn't see the Willow from where you sat, but you know it wasn't far off. The savage tree had always been a point of curiosity for you, but never in your entire time as a student had you heard or even suspected that there was a secret passage under it. "It leads out to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade," Severus explained, clearly picking up on your confusion, but really, that only made you even more curious. Looking back to him though, that interest waned under the severity of his glare. "Dumbledore had arranged for Lupin to carry out his transformations there while he was a student here, encouraging the rumors that it was violently haunted so people would stay away from it. I was too headstrong to realize that it was a trap."

You stared at him for a long, uncomprehending moment. But when the reality of his words finally sank in, you felt your guts fall out onto the floor. "Remus…" you whispered, glancing over your shoulder at the still closed door, before leaning closer to Severus. "Remus was the werewolf that you'd faced as a boy?" you blurted out unthinkingly, the puzzle pieces sliding together in rapid succession. You felt unbearably stupid suddenly, for not suspecting it earlier. Severus had told you that he'd faced a fully transformed werewolf, years ago in a moment of teenage idiocy. You still had the letter of this confession stashed away under your bed at home. You knew they had both gone to school at the same time, but you'd never thought… never even considered that it had been Remus. And that Severus had been tricked-

"That's right," Severus confirmed, raising his voice slightly in order to regain your attention, which had slid down to somewhere on the floor as you tried to straighten out the facts in your mind. "I only avoided a grizzly death when James Potter decided he didn't want my blood on his hands, and pulled me from the tunnel."

"James P-…" you swallowed, recognizing the name instantly from the annals of History of Magic class, but you were having a difficult time reconciling it within the current narrative. "James Potter?"

"Their ring leader," Severus clarified, though your understanding was as muddy as ever. "It was James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew." There was a deep, caustic bitterness in his voice as he cited these names, and you felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch him. His glower made you hold your hands back. "Potter and Black were by far my primary aggressors, but none of them were innocent. They were all insolent, arrogant bastards who took great pleasure in knocking me down at every available opportunity." You could see the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest, and his fingers were no longer twitching at his elbows, but rather were digging into them, the knuckles shining white against already pallid skin. "I'm certain Potter only saved my arse so as not to tarnish anyone's perfect perception of him."

When you were a teenager, you'd always had the impression that the majority of the advice your Potions Professor had given you, had been based off of a great deal of personal experience on his part. You had sussed out early on that he was a half-blood, or something similar, but over the years, you'd also suspected that he might have been poor like you, too. That he might have been lonely, an outsider among outsiders, like you. And that he might have been bullied for no reason other than existing. Like you.

'I understand how it feels to be provoked as you were,' he had told you in a late night detention, all those years ago. 'I also understand the desire for swift retribution… You made an enemy today.'

"I can hear your heart breaking from here," he murmured, turning his face toward you, and you twitched at the accusation, frowning sheepishly. Because he wasn't wrong. There was an ache deep in your chest, a combination of swallowed tears and righteous indignation. And he didn't have to read your mind in order to sense it, because you were certain it was radiating out of your very being. But clearly, Severus wasn't having it.

"Spare me your pity," he sighed acrimoniously. "And do not misinterpret me either." He finally stood up from the desk, turning to face you fully, his arms still crossed defensively over his narrow chest. "I'm not trying to get Lupin sacked for petty revenge over a prank pulled on me nearly twenty years ago. The fact that he is a werewolf is…" he paused, glancing away from you in a manner that looked suspiciously like shame. "…Simply a means to an end."

Severus started pacing then, back and forth in front of the desk, only a few feet in front of you. "No. Those four were always close. Thick as thieves. The best of friends, until Potter was murdered by the Dark Lord, and Pettigrew was murdered by Black." He stopped his pacing then, standing in front of the window, his back turned towards you as he stared out over the grey, dreary grounds. "Black was a… loyal servant. Of You-Know-Who," he explained stiltedly, and you frowned slightly, because for the first time since he began this story, he sounded… unsure of himself. Which was curious, because of all the things to possibly be unsure about... "Both Dumbledore and the Ministry believe he's trying to break into Hogwarts to… finish the job." He paused again, his shoulders slumping as he uncrossed his arms, placing his hands on the stone windowsill. "To kill Harry Potter."

The office fell silent then, the only sound being the soft patter of afternoon rain against the glass windowpanes. And in the ensuing quiet, you felt very foolish. You'd learned about Harry Potter, and You-Know-Who, and the Wizarding War, of course. But that had been… History class. You'd learned about it in the strange, isolated bubble of a classroom, of a text book, of Professor Binn's droning voice that made you feel separate, removed from the events themselves. You'd grown up Muggle, had no inkling of the war taking place in the shadows, because you had only been a little girl when it happened. You never considered that what had happened back then, could possibly have any effect on you now. And you hadn't realized that the Harry Potter, the little baby who had somehow put an end to the greatest reign of terror in Wizarding history… was now a student at the very school you were teaching at. And that his life was in danger.

You were also startled to learn that both Remus and Severus were apparently… close to the situation. Of course, they'd been alive at the time of those events, and certainly the Wizarding War had affected everybody differently… You'd simply never made the connection. Never thought to ask. It was difficult to process that both of these men, to whom you considered yourself close, were in some capacity involved with all of those names in your old textbooks.

Because their names hadn't been included. Not Severus… and not Remus.

"Black was the one who… who betrayed the Potters," you said suddenly, shattering the silence of the room. You lifted your head from where you'd been staring at the floor, to find that Severus had been watching you from where he stood, perched beside the window. His eyes were keen and knowing, as if he'd been carefully watching the turning cogs in your brain. "And killed Pettigrew. He's the one who did those terrible things. So… So what does Remus have to do with anything?"

Severus was clearly unhappy with the conclusion you'd come to, and you flinched as his face twisted in rage. "Lupin is hiding something," he hissed vehemently, pointing towards the closed doors to Remus' quarters again, before turning his finger to tap against his own chest. "I spent my entire student career being tormented by those four, but I know they got up to much more than just pushing me around." His hand balled into a fist then, and he seemed to force himself to return his hands back down to his sides. "Black obviously knows about the tunnel under the Whomping Willow, and I have no doubt in my mind that they discovered more than just one secret passage into and out of this castle. We've already caved in two of them." You bit your bottom lip, nodding in understanding, because that… was perfectly true. You knew about the caved in tunnels, because Argus Filch had been all too happy to regale the story of their discovery and subsequent destruction, quite chuffed with himself for being the one to finally find them. He seemed to think that there had been students, who knew about the passages long before he had…

"Lupin hasn't offered a single alternative suggestion, and that's bullocks," Severus spat, his nose wrinkling with a snarl. "So either he knows how Black is getting into the castle, and he isn't telling us, or he's actively helping Black do it." His breathing was heavy now, and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him this agitated. Even when he'd faced off against Lockhart, he'd been cool, in control. But now he was just… livid. "And as much as I detest that little pest, Potter…" he murmured, dropping his gaze from yours. "I can't abide by that."

There was silence again as his words slowly sank in. So that's what he'd meant… when he'd said that Black had gotten in with help. And though everything Severus was telling you seemed… plausible, you were having a difficult time connecting the sweet, charming werewolf you'd gotten to know over the last two months, with the notion that he was actively aiding a mass murderer to enter the castle, in order to kill a little boy. That wasn't the Remus you knew… But… well. How much did you really know about him after all? You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth again, shaking your head slightly. It just didn't make sense.

"Then why…" you started, unsure where this question was even going at first, as you tried to process a lot of information very quickly. "If that's… if what you're saying is true-" Severus's face grew dark, and you lifted your hands swiftly, facing your palms toward him in surrender. "I'm not saying it isn't true, Severus! But if it is, then why doesn't Dumbledore-?"

You were cut off by a sharp, humorless laugh. "Believe me? Do something about it?" he filled in for you, and you wilted, nodding ruefully in confirmation. "His Gryffindor bias is showing now more than ever. When all was said and done after that night at the Shrieking Shack, all three of us were given detention." The smile on his lips was anything but mirthful. It was indicative of malice, resentment and bitterness, all tied together in one smooth curve. "We all received the same punishment; mine for being out of dorm after hours, and Potter and Black for my attempted murder. He seemed to think Lupin wasn't at fault, and I was given the extra order to never to speak of what I had seen to anybody." The twisted smile fell, but the animosity remained, etched in the lines of his face. "I've obeyed that order, up until now."

Now, you just felt sick. There was a ball of lead in your stomach, and you twisted your fingers into the hem of your sweater as you considered the implications of this. Detention? They were only given detention? Even if Severus was exaggerating about them receiving the same punishment, even if Potter and Black had been suspended, or given detention for the rest of their lives… The fact remained that they hadn't been expelled. They hadn't received the punishment that was deserving of the crime. They'd hardly even been reprimanded, because Severus had been the one ordered to never speak of what was surely one of the most traumatic events of his life. The way you saw it, Severus was a victim, who didn't receive any justice…

And that was a feeling you were intimately familiar with.

You released a ragged breath, placing your elbows on your knees, and dropping your face into your hands. Severus hadn't been the only victim though. He clearly thought that Remus must have been in on the 'joke' but… Whether it was your soft spot for Remus, or for werewolves in general, you weren't entirely convinced of that part of the story. If Remus was innocent, then he had been used as a weapon, by someone who supposed to be his friend. If this so called prank had been successful, then Severus would have surely been killed, at the very least bitten, and you had no doubt that in that scenario, Remus would have been… terminated. By the Ministry. It certainly lent credence to Sirius Black being a homicidal maniac from an early age… Did you really think that Remus would remain loyal to a friend who would have used him so grievously? Unless… he had been in on the joke…

"Why not just botch a Wolfsbane potion, then?" you croaked, lifting your face from your hands. You stayed hunched over, still seated on the desk as you stared forlornly across the office towards Severus. He was still watching you closely from his place near the window, his hands finally relaxed from their previous fists. "Or miscast a protective spell? If you want him gone so badly, there are easier ways to sabotage him than…" you gestured vaguely towards the classroom. "Assigning essays." You felt defeated, suggesting this, but it didn't make sense to you. If Severus was so convinced of Remus' guilt, why was he taking this roundabout way to get him sacked?

Severus frowned, shifting slightly under your scrutiny as he crossed his arms, defensive once again. "Don't think I haven't thought about it," he muttered, and he at least had the decency to look a little ashamed. "But aside from straining my already precarious relationship with the Headmaster…" He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he released the heavy sigh through his nose. "If I did that, and Lupin hurt, or killed, or bit someone, then you would be the one held at fault."

The ensuing silence was suffocating, to the point where you were quite certain you had stopped breathing. Your vision narrowed, your stomach roiled, and you weren't sure how you kept yourself from vomiting under the weight of this truth. He was right. Of course he was right. He was always right. It was your job to keep everybody safe from Remus Lupin… and if Severus betrayed that, then all of your work would be lost. And he… cared more about helping you retain your tenuous grasp on your reputation… than…

You were trembling all over as he finally approached you, your watery eyes trained down on his black shoes as you felt broad, warm hands grip your shoulders. "I am proud of you, Gwen," he assured you quietly, and you pitched forward, pressing your forehead against his chest, clinging to his robes on either side of his waist.

"What you accomplished with the Wolfsbane potion is extraordinary, beyond measure. And I sincerely do hope that the public view of werewolves will one day shift because of the work you've done." Your trembling turned to shaking as you quietly wept against his frockcoat, and he went from holding your shoulders, to wrapping his arms around them.

"So I'll keep brewing the Wolfsbane to perfection. And I'll keep casting the barrier spells until you're able to do it on your own." A sob wracked your body, and you were immeasurably grateful for the silencing charms on the office doors. You felt a hand attempt to squeeze between you and your hold on him, and you leaned back slightly, just enough for him to cup your cheek, to brush a thumb against your tears. You glanced up at him, heedless of your puffy face and reddened eyes, and you found that he didn't seem to be as heated as he was before. In fact, he was arching a brow in a way that was all too familiar, and you braced yourself to hate whatever he was about to say. "But if an insufferable know-it-all happens to connect the dots in the meantime, I'm not going to stop her."

The snort of laughter was involuntary, having a keen idea of whom he spoke of, but you started sobbing again despite yourself. He let you tip your head against his chest again, and held you as you started to process this new type of heartache.

Later, when you would finally leave the office for your quarters, Severus offering to cancel your afternoon class for you, in order for you to get some sleep, you would agonize over the fact that Severus had finally let you in. Enough to tell you something about his past, to be vulnerable with you. You hadn't expected it to be pretty… but you hadn't expected it to be like this. And you hadn't anticipated to learn so much about Remus either… But despite everything that you had learned, you had been left feeling more lost than ever. And you wondered if the knowledge was worth it.