Just a very short chapter this time, sorry. The next one is longer, I
promise! It will most likely be up next Friday.
With many, many thanks to Lunatic, N Snape, ShiTiger, Yuta, Lizard, Phayze and Wafflecat (two reviews, too! Mwah! You're a darling!) for reviewing! *pulls them into a nearly choking group hug* Thank you! And once again with a great many thanks to Chris for betaing!
He slammed the door of his chambers behind him, the loud bang hardly doing anything to alleviate his anger. So *this* was what Lupin had been planning. This was the so-called joke. *Well.* That explained all the blatant staring. *But it hadn't been all that blatant, had it?* Yes, well. No doubt the werewolf was a bloody good actor, and had known how to pace himself - how to make the staring seem furtive, whilst being certain Snape was watching him. After all, he'd almost believed him.
Storming out of the DADA teacher's room with less dignity than was his wont - and not much caring about it - he'd tried to grasp what the werewolf had been thinking, declaring his love to none other than Snape - it was quite ridiculous. Casting about a few wild ideas, his mind had settled for the caper-theory. There was simply no other explanation. The concept of Lupin being truthful did not bear contemplating.
Did it?
*No, it didn't. Definitely not*, a voice answered calmly out of nowhere.
The idea, Snape gathered, had been to mock his looks. How very original. What Lupin, in his limited mind, apparently hadn't considered, was that the very idea of having a werewolf in love with him made him nauseous. This was true, and the thought mercilessly suppressed the twinge of old pain at the chaffing of his appearance.
How on earth did he know Snape was attracted to men, anyway?
But then again, perhaps the whole purpose *had* been to make Snape feel nauseated. There was something wrong with that, somehow, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was, and maybe he didn't care to, either. He felt slightly reassured now he knew nothing life threatening was going to happen to him. Not that he'd let his guards down on that account. He wished he'd had the chance to read the few last entries to ensure himself he would not be the victim of any other "jokes" in the near future. Surely the werewolf wouldn't have a whole set of them lined up?
Well, best let Lupin see he couldn't care less about the insult. Possibly, it was also best to convince *himself* that the matter was of no importance. What could he care about his looks, when he had one of the most brilliant minds at Hogwarts and beyond? Not at all, of course. Feeling better at once, he occupied himself with reading one of his most ancient and intricate potion books, revelling in the knowledge that most likely not even Albus Dumbledore could apprehend the complicated formula's and recipes. But he, Severus Snape, could.
He smirked happily and read on.
With many, many thanks to Lunatic, N Snape, ShiTiger, Yuta, Lizard, Phayze and Wafflecat (two reviews, too! Mwah! You're a darling!) for reviewing! *pulls them into a nearly choking group hug* Thank you! And once again with a great many thanks to Chris for betaing!
He slammed the door of his chambers behind him, the loud bang hardly doing anything to alleviate his anger. So *this* was what Lupin had been planning. This was the so-called joke. *Well.* That explained all the blatant staring. *But it hadn't been all that blatant, had it?* Yes, well. No doubt the werewolf was a bloody good actor, and had known how to pace himself - how to make the staring seem furtive, whilst being certain Snape was watching him. After all, he'd almost believed him.
Storming out of the DADA teacher's room with less dignity than was his wont - and not much caring about it - he'd tried to grasp what the werewolf had been thinking, declaring his love to none other than Snape - it was quite ridiculous. Casting about a few wild ideas, his mind had settled for the caper-theory. There was simply no other explanation. The concept of Lupin being truthful did not bear contemplating.
Did it?
*No, it didn't. Definitely not*, a voice answered calmly out of nowhere.
The idea, Snape gathered, had been to mock his looks. How very original. What Lupin, in his limited mind, apparently hadn't considered, was that the very idea of having a werewolf in love with him made him nauseous. This was true, and the thought mercilessly suppressed the twinge of old pain at the chaffing of his appearance.
How on earth did he know Snape was attracted to men, anyway?
But then again, perhaps the whole purpose *had* been to make Snape feel nauseated. There was something wrong with that, somehow, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was, and maybe he didn't care to, either. He felt slightly reassured now he knew nothing life threatening was going to happen to him. Not that he'd let his guards down on that account. He wished he'd had the chance to read the few last entries to ensure himself he would not be the victim of any other "jokes" in the near future. Surely the werewolf wouldn't have a whole set of them lined up?
Well, best let Lupin see he couldn't care less about the insult. Possibly, it was also best to convince *himself* that the matter was of no importance. What could he care about his looks, when he had one of the most brilliant minds at Hogwarts and beyond? Not at all, of course. Feeling better at once, he occupied himself with reading one of his most ancient and intricate potion books, revelling in the knowledge that most likely not even Albus Dumbledore could apprehend the complicated formula's and recipes. But he, Severus Snape, could.
He smirked happily and read on.
