Moon Tides
DISCLAIMER: THOUGH I WISH I COULD CLAIM PROFESSOR R. J. LUPIN WAS MINE, THEN I COULD TAKE HIM HOME IN A BOX, IT IS ALAS NOT THE FACT. HE AND ALL THE OTHER WONDERFUL CHARACTERS I HAVE BORROWED BELONG TO MISS ROWLING AND HER WONDERFUL AND CREATIVE MIND. THAT BEING SAID THE CHARACTER OF NARIA SOJAIR BELONGS TO ME AND ALL THE RIGHTS THAT ARE INHERINT WITH THAT CREATION ARE MINE. ALSO, NO MONEY IS BEING MADE.
Remus had though about how he would bring this topic up this year, especially considering everyone knew. Last year no one had known his secret. That being the case, he had been able to teach this class with the separation that was caused by lack of knowledge on the part of the listeners. He also found it ironic that half way through this section he would have to take leave because the effects of condition would come to pass with in a night. Already he could feel the moon tides pulling on him. He paced, the outward sign that "the Wolf" wanted out.
Remus thought wistfully about the breakfast he had missed. Naria had returned to the High Table for the first time in a weak. They had not had a lot of time to themselves. Class kept them a part during the early day to around five. Then grading after dinner. Realistically they probably had an hour to themselves before bed not including meals and these days it seemed that they never seemed to make meals together unless pre-agreed upon.
He knew that the first class of the day would be the easier of the two; the unforgivable curses were a relatively easy yet very important subject that had to be taught. Comparatively, it would be an easier class to teach than the one he was fretting over. Silently he wished that he was only teaching it to the Gryffindors today. But no, the fates had not smiled upon. He had been graced with the Slytherins in the same class.
Remus began scribing on the chalkboard some of the key points that he wanted them to scribe in their notes. He tried to make the amount of book and desk work a lesser portion of this class, preferring hands on work; however this particular subject did not offer much hands on work. He did not want his students experimenting with these particular curses on any form of life, whether it was legal or not. He did, however, want them to be able to resist and recognize them, which means that he still had to teach them.
He looked over the simple lesson plan; mainly he was going to try to scare them away from using these particular curses. That was what needed to be taught when it came to them, be so afraid to use them but wise enough to know how to stop them.
He was glad he had never come across these curses in person, unlike his fiancé. Sometimes at night she would wake with a start, often screaming the name of one of the curses. He watched her toss and turn through out the night on more than one occasion. He often woke her, but sometimes she would have nightmares all night and on those nights he often did not sleep at all. He cared for her as much as she cared for him. She had often stayed up on the night of the full moon, checking on him. He had found her outside the shed one night. She had fallen asleep leaning against a tree that was next to it. She had never been afraid of the Wolf, she had never been afraid of him, but rather she had been afraid for him.
He looked to Naria's strength to sustain him. He was not certain he could do this if he had not found acceptance so readily from her and others in his life. It had allowed him to realize he was not evil as so many believed. No, he was a man just as any. He had emotions, just as any. And he was not a beast no matter what Snape and the Slytherins might try to say. No, he was worthy and he finally realized that. Part of the reason he had run out last time was because he felt it was too dangerous, but that had been an excuse. He had not felt worthy once people had learned the truth about him.
Looking over what he had written, making certain it was accurate; he checked spelling and the like. He would have the Ravenclaws and they had a perfectionistic streak running through their lot. He did not want them pointing out silly mistakes, certainly not on his first lesson with them anyhow. After being certain that it was correct, he flipped the board over. He was not going to have them look at that until the end of class, but it was easier for him to get it prepared now then waste time in class. First time with the unforgivable curse could take a bit longer.
After preparing the board, he went to his desk. On it was the attendance list. Checking for the second time he reviewed the names. Going over them in his head. Fortunately there did not seem to be anyone who he remembered suffering horribly at Voldemort's hands. He had heard the story from the previous year. Apparently Neville was quite horribly affected by a demonstration of one of the three horrible curses and he did not want a repeat showing this year. It simply would not do to have some one pass out in class, but apparently he was in the clear.
As people filed in and found their places, he prepared to begin. Moving to where he liked to sit, he waited one last second, making certain that as many stragglers from breakfast got here on time. As people set up, he called their attention to him, "I'm Professor Lupin, as I'm sure most of you remember and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts. All good wizards and witches need certain skills to protect them from forces that would have harm done to them. Generally, I will be giving practical lessons, there isn't much in class bookwork and that sort, but with our first section that is simply not an option.
"Now then, I want every one to look at your wands. This device is one of the most powerful tools at your disposal. It has the ability to be your greatest ally or a dangerous tool. Both dark and light actions can happen with this simple and elegant tool. You can defend or you can injure, some even seek death with this.
"This year will be devoted to curses, but this first section will be devoted to three in particular, can anyone tell me what those might be?"
At that prompting nearly all of the Ravenclaws raised their hands into the air. He noticed that quite a few Gryffindors also levitated their hands which swelled his old house pride; however he choose upon one of the Ravenclaws. "Yes."
"The unforgivable curses," said a fourteen-year-old girl.
"Quite right, five points to Ravenclaw. Right, now then can anyone name one of these curses?" again he received a similar reaction this time calling on a Gryffindor boy, "Mr. Creevy?"
"Avada Kedavra. You know, the one Harry survived," the boy said.
Oh yes, this boy had a bit of an obsession on Mr. Potter. He apparently hero-worshiped him and the ground Harry walked on. "Correct, what does this curse do?"
He called on one of the Ravenclaws who answered accurately, not like there was any surprise there. "Yes, it is the killer curse. Is there a defense against this curse?"
Hands, a sea of hands. Choosing at random he got another answer. "Your answer is partially right, there is no counter-curse, but there are some rather unique magical events that can allow a person to survive. As Mr. Creevy pointed out, Harry Potter survived because of one of these. It is the most ancient for of magic. This particular form effects both wizard and muggle alike. There are certain blood charms that can offer protection. Emotion has always been at the center of the issue. Love. has the ability to conquer the most horrible and deadly of curses. Harry survived because of the love of his parents and their sacrifice.
"Can anyone name any other reasons the curse might fail or backfire?" This time not a single hand levitated in the air. "No? Certain wands have properties that cannot be broken no matter who uses them and for what. Certain wands lending their cores from a single source can often block thing that an ordinary wand would not. It is the power of certain centers of wands. However the likeliness of this saving you is next to nil. When dealing with Avada Kedavra I would suggest a path of avoidance. Don't get in its way and you should be fine, that really is the only thing that is likely to save you.
"Can any one tell me the rest of the Unforgivable Curses?" This time he got a far more desirable result as again a sea of hands was at his disposal to chose from.
"Correct. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Now then. I'm only going to demonstrate one of these curses today, the Imperius Curse. This particular curse is one that by the end of this year I want you to all know, personally and by the signs and perhaps some of you will be able to fight the strength of this curse, we shall see. Now then, may I have a volunteer?" Few hands on the Ravenclaw side rose while quite a few on the Gryffindor were present; again a small twinge of house pride announced itself in his heart. "Ms. Ginny Weasley, if you would please indulge me?"
The young girl, the very image of the Weasley family, stood by her seat. He knew this girl had a fancy for Harry and for some odd reason this girl reminded him of Lilly in a very abstract way. "Now then, Ms. Weasley, I am going to demonstrate the power of this particular curse upon you. This curse has the ability to have you loose complete control of ones actions; I can make you do anything I like, from the silly to the dark. That is the reason this curse is worthy of life imprisonment at Azkaban. Now then, if you would please move to the front of the class." The girl complied as she was asked. He took his wand in hand and. "Imperio."
With that the curse fell upon the girl. Her head lolled to her chest and she was clearly not under her own control. "Lets see. what shall I have you do? Ah!" Suddenly the girl did a wild back leap that would have been impossible for her on her own. A giggle passed through the class. Time to make this more serious, "This may look funny, but I have TOTAL control of Ms. Weasley. If I felt so inclined I could have her leap out a window or drown herself. That is the reason this curse is so horrible and so powerful. This curse became a favorite tool of the Death Eaters and the like. It caused good wizards and witches to do the unimaginable. Oh, Ms. Weasley," he shook his hand and she suddenly snapped out of her trance.
"Curses such as this are the worst wizards have learned to use against each other. I will teach you what I can about these curses and how they can be countered, but the most important thing I can tell you is that not all curses can be countered. As you know Avada Kedavra is not counter-able, so I'm certain your asking why am I showing you these? You need to be able to recognize them. the best policy when it comes to curses such as this is avoidance."
"Now then," he flipped the chalkboard over, "I want you to jot down some of this information. We will be continuing this subject in our next month worth of classes, at the end of that time I will be expecting a ten roll essay at the end, a bit long I am aware, but these three curses are very important." a groan passed through the class on the Gryffindor side, but the Ravenclaw looked down right excited. "Right, on to homework, one scroll on the history of these and their use and problems they caused during the rise of Voldemort."
The rest of class was spent in silence as they transcribed the information from the board and making other pertinent notes on the topic. When the bell sounded the class was emptied out save for the straggling Ravenclaws, "Yes, you can hand me more then ten rolls, but I don't want more than thirty and if you hand me that much I'll guarantee only a skim or a grade that will be very late, your choice. Have I answered your questions?" Not to his surprise all nodded and left.
As his classroom was left in silence he erased the board, pulled out his lesson plan, and gulped. During his previous class he had put the subject of his apprehension out of his head, but now it returned as strong, if not stronger than before. Snape had made it an issue before his arrival so he figured he might as well get this over. It made the most sense because Snape had actively tried to turn his student and his house members against him, then at least Snape could not say they were not prepared to deal with him. No, on the contrary, they would know more than enough about his kind. He simply was not going to teach in a manner as biased as Snape had tried to. On top of the biased nature of their previous lessons on the subject, there was always the fact that the books were often misinformed on many points on the subject and he was not going to have students passing on this flawed information as accuracy unlike so many others had. A lot of it was simply ridiculous, the legends were taken as fact and they exceedingly were stretched to stress the point of the danger his kind provided. Over generations this simply became fact, not the myths it had once been. Some were simply illogical, like the idea of shooting a werewolf with a silver bullet to cure them, posh, that simply brings death. He certainly would be stamping that idea out in the minds of these students.
After this more sensitive subject they were at least moving into far friendlier ground, depending on ones point of view of course. This year would be devoted to perfection of earlier learnt concepts and perfection of their application. These students would be tested on their O.W.L's this year and he wanted to make certain that they got as many and were as well prepared as they could.
-=(^)=-
She walked through the mostly empty hallways. Nearly all the students had found the Great Hall making it a loud place during lunch. Those who had not had either returned to their dorms or frequented the lunch hall were to be discovered generally in the library. Her bounds of knee length, gold hair flowed just slightly after her with every step as she made her way.
The distance was not horribly far and she soon arrived where she had intended. The dark dungeons, that place which had always had the ability to strike at least a bit of fear into the heart of students, was nearly as she had remembered. She could remember the hours of class time she had spent in here, bent over a simmering caldron, coaxing her mixtures to be as desired.
She had always enjoyed school and potions had been little different. Academics were her strong suit, even if she found the teachers less than desirable on occasion. As it was, that was how she had felt about her old potions teacher. He had been a grumpy and slightly creepy wizard, who clearly had not seen the sun in many years. He had that odd scent she had always associated with potions, a bit of smoke and random ingredients to be found in most potions. She had noticed this smell on Severus when he stood close enough to her. In an odd way she kind of liked that scent, it had never been associated with ill feeling memories.
The old potions master had had that ability to descend upon one with out them knowing and scare a student doing both that which they should nor what they should not be doing. She had noticed that Severus himself had that ability to move through the shadows in silence and then. pounce. This ability reminded her of a cat and how they hunt their prey.
As she entered the darkened dungeon that was in desperate need of light she searched for the man who haunted them. She had expected to find hunched over his stack of papers, grading them with a sneer. Stop it. Stop demonizing him. He isn't that bad. no your rationalizing. you feel. STOP IT.
He had not been hunched over grading papers; no, he had fallen asleep with his on those papers. Naria saw the top one and something that looked suspiciously like an F circled on it. She was about to leave him to his dreams. As she turned, however, she heard him make a noise. She froze in her spot. Feeling as a student, she froze in her spot. In the years that had passed since she had last seen him, she had become slightly afraid of this man and what he represented to her. She, like so many of his students, feared his voice that was both a whisper and a yell all in one. But that noise that had escaped him had not been one made by a man who was conscious. Again he uttered something and she watched him quiver. She found this the oddest thing she had ever seen in a man. It was a strange idea to say the least.
She noticed his behavior more carefully. She noticed that his lips uttered a name and then his face contorted again. She half expected a scream to escape them, but to Snape's credit that did not happed. Again his head moved, quivering to the other direction. She could see a small stream of what looked to be. tears. on his cheek. She had never seen this side of Snape and had hoped that she would never see it again. She knew he was having what must have been a horrible nightmare. She knew what that felt like and felt sorry for him on so many levels.
It pained her to watch him. It pained her to see him in pain. She had once loved this man and now found that she still had a place in her heart for him. She did not want him to be so pained as he clearly was now. She was tempted to make a move towards him, tempted to shake him out of his sleep. Hesitant she moved forward, edging towards where he both sat and slept.
Her suspicion had been proven correct upon a closer inspection. Snape in fact had a small stream of tears running down his pale skin. As she looked at him she rounded the desk and knelt in front of him. Nervously she moved with a slightly unsteady hand to wake him. Touching his midnight black robes she shook him lightly at first. He woke with a start as she had expected, but she had still found herself off guard. His eyes snapped to her and the sneer turned into something of a grimace. "What do you want?" he asked a bit more forcefully than she had hoped he intended but could not be certain.
"I.I.I" she was at a loss for words. Now in his sights she found her ground taken out form under her.
"Out with it," he demanded harshly. Then cutting her off he continued on, "Do you draw pleasure from my suffering? Did you enjoy that little show?" He was livid and she was afraid. He had gotten to his feet and now she found herself pressed against the wall, afraid but still caring. She would not be deterred from caring for him even if he wanted anything but.
"How can you possibly think that, Severus?" she said in a voice that held none of her fear, none of that which he was trying to press into her. No, she answered his livid voice with one that was not cool like his had been so many time, but full of feeling. Feeling that she had tried so many times to deny herself, but she knew in her heart of hearts that that was the case. "I have felt the same things as you. I have had the same dreams as you. I have woken with a start on more occasions than I care to think about. No, Severus, I would not find this a show. I have to much experience with things such as these and."
"And what?" he demanded venomously.
"And. and. and you ," she said barely getting the words out herself. Barely allowing herself to except the truth.
-=(^)=-
Snape heard what she had said. Staring at her in disbelief his mind raced with the implications of what every single word could hold. He looked at this woman, this woman he had once felt emotion, true emotion, for. This woman who he had risked it all for. This woman who he had forsaken the Death Eaters for. This woman who he had become a spy for. This woman who had betrayed him more than he had betrayed anyone.
He had trouble looking at her and not wishing he hadn't forsaken the Death Eaters. It now disgusted him that he had once loved her. It made him sick to think that her lips had once touched his, that he would have given all for one night with her. He was sickened that the woman who he let see his heart now found respite in the arms of a werewolf.
His eyes held a fire that he knew would strike a fear into her heart. He knew how she reacted. He remembered that night now over fifteen years prior. He had remembered her cowering under his gaze and the power it had given him. But as he remembered her fear and how he had drunken from it he could also remember his fear and pain from that night. It had been perfect before Voldemort had arrived. He might of even unleashed that most unforgivable curse upon her small form. Yes, he had cared for her but in the power of the moment he could of done so many things and now he was not so sure he would of regretted pointing his wand at her and saying the simple two word incantation. No, he would have enjoyed watching the life drain from her, leaving her as lifeless as he now felt.
She however held his stare, held the gaze which had once feared more than anything else. She stared into his eyes that were a shade darker than the night sky. She held his stare evenly and measured, refusing to show the fact she was truly afraid of his eyes and the look that held them. Refusing to show the truth.
He held the venom of his words on his face as he considered what she had said, as he considered for a second time what her cryptic words could mean. He thought and silently wondered. She was right was the only conclusion he could come to. She had never shown him malice. No she had in fact shown him more consideration than anyone he had ever met. Her eyes still held that soft place in which he had been drawn into. That place which had once showed him that he was important. She had held herself for him as a school girl. She had shown him understanding that had allowed him for a time to forget the fear and the hate he had once felt towards the world. Now staring into her eyes he felt the same hatred he had developed melt away by the second. He for some reason could not stay long mad at her. No, it had taken all his strength to stay mad this long.
The conclusion in hand, he drew back. He no longer held her against the wall cowering in fear. With his presence withdrawn he noticed her draw in a lusty breath. She had clearly not been breathing when he had been staring her down. He drew back into himself. He rarely did this sort of things these days. He had long ago learned to keep his emotions in check. This situation had clearly been trying on him. Silently he felt a tad ashamed for his emotional outburst. I am a grown man who still threw tantrums, he thought mirthlessly.
Returning to his old self, that self which rarely made emotional outbreaks allowed him to once again survey her. I have been disappointed so many times in life, why should she be any different? But she was different, even if he did not want to admit it to himself it was still the case. "Why are you here Professor?" he asked, a sneer spreading across his face.
This time she was able to answer and not stutter in the process, "I have been informed that you have the ingredients that are necessary to make the Wolfsbane potion. I need them if Remus is to have his potion before the full moon." Her words may have come through without stuttering, but she was far quieter than normal.
"Yes, we wouldn't want him running around in the form of the Wolf now would we?" he said in tone that was far more snide than anything he had used previous. He remembered all to well what could happen when "the Wolf" was not contained. He personally felt that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures should deal with all of Remus's kind but thought wiser than to tell her. She may not stand up to harassment now, but he knew that she could if pushed and he knew than in all likelihood she would to.
Staring at her he could not figure what it was about the werewolf that attracted her. He found it completely and utter ridiculous that she should take her company with his kind. Looking at her he said what had been on his mind when ever she entered a room with that abomination, "What is it you see in him?"
-=(^)=-
Naria looked at the potions master. He had again retreated into himself. She was shocked by what he had just said. Staring at him, she came to an answer.
-=(^)=-
He looked at her, waiting for her answer he stared into her eyes. He could see emotion filling their blue orbs and knew she was coming to an answer.
"Because I could only wait so long. The heart has a way of growing cold over time," she finally answered. Her voice was almost a yell, but her eyes where pleading with him to stop this. He would do anything but.
"Why him?" he said, his voice full of venom.
"Why not him?" she asked, her voice held the same tone as his and the same fiery steel he had once associated with her.
"He's a werewolf," Snape said with even more venom in his voice.
"And you were a Death Eater," she said again matching him in tone and intonation.
Snape looked at her, shocked by the intonation of her voice. He had never expected her to hold that tone. But he was not going to show the fact that he was shocked. "Do you want were-cubs running around with Slytherin's blood?" he asked.
"How do you know what we intend to do in our private life? How do you know he and I have any intention of having children?" she asked him, for the first time actually standing reaching her full height.
"You lay with him, do you not?"
"How is that any of your business?"
"He wants children. Can you truly please him if you are unable to give him children?"
He expected a quick answer but none came. She sat there looking at him considering his words on the verge of tears. She finally answered, her voice constricted, yet clear. The emotion of her words was palpable, "He.he loves me and is willing. willing to live a life.a life without chil.child.ren."
"Is it fair for you to request that of him?" Severus said in return. "Is it fair for you to ask him to live a life with out hope of spreading his genes, of continuing his line?"
Again she seemed to be unable to answer him. He waited, he knew she would eventually come up with what she felt and would be able to put it to words.
When she answered her voice was soft, barely a whisper, "No, its not fair. Its never been fair, but he doesn't seem to care about that." She collapsed against the wall, sinking to the floor.
Snape looked upon her. He had never seen like this. He had never seen her so small. He had never seen her vulnerable, like this anyhow. In the back of his mind a quiet voice nagged him about reducing her to this state. He knew that voice to be his conscious and he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it very long. His sneer, that had so long been his constant companion, left his face. The potions master walked to where she sat and knelt down in front of her.
He looked at her face. So long ago, it was the ray of beauty in his life. Now it was dark and clouded. Tears ran down her soft, pale skin, shining in the dim light of his dungeons. He outstretched his hand and wiped away the damp stream from her skin. For a moment his hand lingered upon her cheek. Their eyes met. Hers so full of sadness she had bottled up for so long and his. His were full of similar sadness, but also a longing. He had for so long gone without company, without love. He hated Remus more for the fact that he had found love than the fact that he was a werewolf.
He kissed her lightly upon the lips. They both wanted this, needed this, especially him. He had gone so long with out love. But than he pulled away. This was not right, no matter how much he wanted it. He had been disappointed so many times in his life, why should she be any different? No, he loved her, that's why. She was different even if he refused to acknowledge the truth of the matter.
It was for the best, he thought quietly. Everyone he had ever loved had died and he had been responsible at least in part of for the deaths. His own family had died because of him. Voldemort would not accept entanglements of any sort and so they had been killed. He had watched them suffer, had heard his own mother scream in terror. And he. He had stood there, deft to their suffering. He had stood there and had done nothing to stop their sufferings and deaths. She had been the only person he had ever cared for who had not died. He had not stood by silently. No, he had prevented Voldemort giving her the same fate as all the others.
He stood and turned away. Walking to the store room, leaving her where she sat he retrieved that which she asked for. By the time he got back she was on her feet. Her face showed no sign of that which she had felt mere moments before. No, she was once again the image of serenity. Handing her things to her she politely thanked him, "Thank you, Professor."
"My pleasure, as long as he gets his potion," he said the sneer once again returning to his face. And with that she was gone and he returned to his normal foul mooded self. He took pleasure in the idea that he would have students latter today. He was nearly certain that most would not be passing this lesson.
-=(^)=-
This was horribly wrong. Why had she done that? She loved Remus and no other. Or that's at least what she kept trying to tell herself.
She was not disserved of his love, of any love and she knew it. She knew that neither Snape nor Remus should of ever looked upon her and felt what they did. It was wrong, she was wrong. Evil thoughts ran through her head. She considered her wand and how easy it would be. But no.
Naria carried her things back to her classroom and office. Setting them down she sat herself in a chair. No one need know of this. Snape would never tell. It would make everyone happier. Truly Remus didn't need to hear this, at least not so close to the full moon. Her thoughts rambled and rambled. Her head ached. She would worry over this far longer than was fair. She hadn't wanted that kiss, she hadn't needed it. But you were wanting it if not needing it, said a voice that was anything but a conscious. You still want it, it hissed again at her.
"This isn't healthy," she said into the darkened room. "You love Remus. Now get a hold of yourself. Severus means nothing, nothing." That's not true and your well aware. "Now then we have class. They can't see you like this, it would be impropriety of the worst sort. Get a hold." Naria collected herself and thoughts in the darkened study. Soon enough the class began to fill and she would soon give her lesson.
-=(^)=-
Remus stood in front of his class, thankful for one major fact, the class he was teaching was full of people who accepted him for who and what he was. Today's lesson was one of difficulty for him, he would be teaching on what he was.
His heart pounded in his ears, beating with such a ferocity that he felt for sure he was dying. Standing in front of his class he felt as if he was on trial, on the stand, and the jury had just announced his guilt and sentence.
"Today's lesson will be one that is considered. practical. by some," his voice held a bit of an edge towards the end of the sentence. His mind went towards Professor Snape for a moment and than back to the class, "We will begin a short study of one of the more dangerous creatures that you may have the misfortune of facing. We will be studying werewolves. As I am sure you are all aware of the fact that I am such a creature. That is why some fear me so much.
"In the study of this subject I ask you to remember that allot of the facts about werewolves are. incorrect at best. I also ask you to remember that when dealing with werewolves in their human form that they too have emotions just as you. They care for people, they can and do love, and they feel pain. But with this group I expect nothing less." A smile crossed his face as he thought about some of his students. He knew that Harry and his friends were more than aware of the dehumanizing effect of certain peoples hurtful words.
"Now then, text books out and wands away. Today we shall take notes and a report will be due by next class." As the class readied themselves he also prepared to begin. He knew that he would have to undo a lot of stereotypical ideas that had been placed in some of his students heads. "Right. Now who can tell me how to cure a werewolf?"
A small sea of hands raised. He noticed at once Hermione Granger, but he knew she would have the right answer and he was looking for the wrong answer for a change. His gaze fell upon Ron. He knew the boy read comic books and stories for fun on occasion and would probably give him the answer he was looking for. "Ron Weasley, yes?"
"You shoot them with a silver bullet," the boy said a tad unsure.
The voice in the back of Remus's head at once began to make remarks. The sort of remarks that could only bring ones moral down. But he choose to ignore them. He had been looking for that answer. "Okay, misconception number one. Hermione care to give us the proper answer?"
The girl immediately beamed with recognition and answered, her voice strong and firm in a know-it-all tone he had come to associate with her "There is no known cure for a werewolf bite after a certain period of time has passed. Upon a bite it can be cured, but certainly not in that form. The Wolfsbane potion may however, alleviate some of the symptoms."
He silently was amazed by how smart this girl really was. He would be horribly surprised if she didn't make head girl in her seventh. No one had higher marks in any class and so it was only logical that the position should go to her. Even Snape, who viewed her as an insufferable know-it-all had not failed her, no, she had excelled. "Very good Hermione, ten points to Gryffindor. Now then if you were to try to cure your relative in the way Mr. Weasley suggested only death would result. This is one of many misconceptions that surrounds the werewolf breed. This is probably the most damning one of all, I must say. Its original purpose was to do away with children from families who had werewolves before there were cures for the were bite. Now it. it lingers, an insipid truth yet to be done away with through logic and understanding on both sides of the line. Now then on the first paper you will be doing in this subject I shall expect. oh, three rolls on. misconceptions about werewolves and the consequences of such misconceptions. No more than one roll on the misconception we discussed today.
"I will be gone tomorrow and in all likelihood the day after that as well. The reason is the full moon. Professor Naria Sojair will however be taking over the class. The rolls are not due to her however, they will be handed to me. Understood?" Nods answered him telling him that they knew all to well what was asked of them.
Remus went over to his desk and sat as they transcribed notes and began working on the paper that would be soon due. Already he had had papers turned in by other classes and felt that since he hadn't anything else to lecture upon today that it made more sense to start grading his enlarging mountain of papers. His nervousness was beginning to ebb. No longer did his heart beat heavily and strong. He knew that already the moon tides were playing with him and toy with him. Tonight was going to be difficult, he was aware. His nervousness would find its way to the wolf's conscious and toy with them. He was silently thankful for the potion that Naria would be brewing after her last class. It would allow him to perhaps go unscathed through out the night.
-=(^)=-
Naria leaned over the caldron. She had made this potion a hundred times and yet she had never felt so incompetent as she did now. She was preoccupied and she knew that could be dangerous while making potions such as this. Every ingredient and step she double checked, wouldn't want to poison the poor man. No, he was depending upon her and she would be certain that he remained whole and unscathed throughout the night as best she could.
Adding the last ingredient the caldrons contents began to bubble and froth. At least that was a good sign. She was disserved of one today. It had been trying to say the least. As the smoke and bubbles cleared from her work area Naria took a ladle and put some of the disgusting smelling concoction in a goblet. She would soon enough take this to Remus. She dared not think twice about was in it if she was not to wretch when he downed it. She knew he had the impulse do such when ever he had to drink it down. She was silently thankful that he was not completely aware of its ingredients. She dared not think that he would down it willingly if he was even half aware of what it contained.
Lifting the goblet she made her way back to his wing of classes due to the fact that she was aware he would still be grading and preparing for future classes. She also knew that he would be preparing her lesson plan. Defense Against the Dark Arts was far more important a class then Spells in the current weather of the situation. Her classes had been canceled on all days after the full moon in order that the classes Remus taught went on even without him.
As she walked she thought of the days events. She did not want to look him in the eye. She did not know if she would be able to face him. He trusted her and she had broken his trust in both thought and action. She was not worthy of him and she knew it. She just didn't want him to know it as well. She really didn't know what would happen if he left her. Again the voice in the back of her mind, the one that reminded her of the petulant child we all had again harassed her with evil ideas and thoughts, thoughts of Severus.
As she entered the room she carefully averted her gaze from his. She did however, notice that he carried the same look of complete trust and acceptance he had always carried when he gazed at her. A smile spread across his face, making him look younger, gray hair or not. "Naria, my love, how has your day been? Not trying I hope."
Trying, with the word her heart began to beat at such a speed. She was surprised he did not hear it, surprised the world could not hear it. In her own ears it sounded like the loudest drum she had ever heard. Her face, to her credit, did not redden. A smile that was quit fake spread across her face as she answered. Her eyes, however, did not meet his, "Trying, no. Quite amiable." We've already lied so many times today, what will one more hurt?
"Good, I dare say I think my day would go quite down hill if I found your day had been anything but amiable," he said, his usual cordial self. He hadn't any idea and her lies sickened her. She was especially sickened by how easy they came to her lips. "Is this it?" when she nodded his face contorted a bit at the idea of drinking what was in the goblet. "Well, bottoms up," and with that he swallowed the contents in the goblet. The contorted look on his face only worsened with the taste.
As Naria stood there she suddenly remembered a certain part of his biology. What if he could smell the scent of Snape upon her? Her heart beat even stronger, but in all likelihood the scent of the disgusting concoction would probably out do the scent of the potions master any day. She would however have to take a very long shower if he was not to smell him upon her latter. She silently wondered if that was the only reason she wanted the shower. Can water really wash away my sins?
"Well I have grading to get to, you will of course understand if I am not restored to you tonight for obvious reasons. I, however, have hope for tomorrow night. The lesson plan will be ready for you in the morning and I dare say you can take it from there," again he smiled at his fiancé, oblivious to the thoughts cursing through her head.
She hated him for that. She hated him for not being able to see through her. And she hated herself for allowing these insipid lies to continue, unchecked. She couldn't see herself any more. She had become distorted, herself image horribly altered by both lies and hidden, unsaid desire. Turning she left him to his work. She would spend this night wallowing in self pity and hatred, she was well aware. Naria walked through the hallways, her shoes ringing with every step. Maybe she should eat at the high table tonight, wouldn't want to be seen as antisocial on top of all. But the idea both delighted her and struck her with fear. Could she really endure a meal with Snape's gaze upon her? And Dumbledore. he always knew the truth that sat in ones heart. She was uncertain as to whether she could stand him knowing the truth of her heart.
As she thought about her actions another voice whispered to her, You're glad he can't see through you.Wouldn't want a lycanthrope angry with before the full moon.
DISCLAIMER: THOUGH I WISH I COULD CLAIM PROFESSOR R. J. LUPIN WAS MINE, THEN I COULD TAKE HIM HOME IN A BOX, IT IS ALAS NOT THE FACT. HE AND ALL THE OTHER WONDERFUL CHARACTERS I HAVE BORROWED BELONG TO MISS ROWLING AND HER WONDERFUL AND CREATIVE MIND. THAT BEING SAID THE CHARACTER OF NARIA SOJAIR BELONGS TO ME AND ALL THE RIGHTS THAT ARE INHERINT WITH THAT CREATION ARE MINE. ALSO, NO MONEY IS BEING MADE.
Remus had though about how he would bring this topic up this year, especially considering everyone knew. Last year no one had known his secret. That being the case, he had been able to teach this class with the separation that was caused by lack of knowledge on the part of the listeners. He also found it ironic that half way through this section he would have to take leave because the effects of condition would come to pass with in a night. Already he could feel the moon tides pulling on him. He paced, the outward sign that "the Wolf" wanted out.
Remus thought wistfully about the breakfast he had missed. Naria had returned to the High Table for the first time in a weak. They had not had a lot of time to themselves. Class kept them a part during the early day to around five. Then grading after dinner. Realistically they probably had an hour to themselves before bed not including meals and these days it seemed that they never seemed to make meals together unless pre-agreed upon.
He knew that the first class of the day would be the easier of the two; the unforgivable curses were a relatively easy yet very important subject that had to be taught. Comparatively, it would be an easier class to teach than the one he was fretting over. Silently he wished that he was only teaching it to the Gryffindors today. But no, the fates had not smiled upon. He had been graced with the Slytherins in the same class.
Remus began scribing on the chalkboard some of the key points that he wanted them to scribe in their notes. He tried to make the amount of book and desk work a lesser portion of this class, preferring hands on work; however this particular subject did not offer much hands on work. He did not want his students experimenting with these particular curses on any form of life, whether it was legal or not. He did, however, want them to be able to resist and recognize them, which means that he still had to teach them.
He looked over the simple lesson plan; mainly he was going to try to scare them away from using these particular curses. That was what needed to be taught when it came to them, be so afraid to use them but wise enough to know how to stop them.
He was glad he had never come across these curses in person, unlike his fiancé. Sometimes at night she would wake with a start, often screaming the name of one of the curses. He watched her toss and turn through out the night on more than one occasion. He often woke her, but sometimes she would have nightmares all night and on those nights he often did not sleep at all. He cared for her as much as she cared for him. She had often stayed up on the night of the full moon, checking on him. He had found her outside the shed one night. She had fallen asleep leaning against a tree that was next to it. She had never been afraid of the Wolf, she had never been afraid of him, but rather she had been afraid for him.
He looked to Naria's strength to sustain him. He was not certain he could do this if he had not found acceptance so readily from her and others in his life. It had allowed him to realize he was not evil as so many believed. No, he was a man just as any. He had emotions, just as any. And he was not a beast no matter what Snape and the Slytherins might try to say. No, he was worthy and he finally realized that. Part of the reason he had run out last time was because he felt it was too dangerous, but that had been an excuse. He had not felt worthy once people had learned the truth about him.
Looking over what he had written, making certain it was accurate; he checked spelling and the like. He would have the Ravenclaws and they had a perfectionistic streak running through their lot. He did not want them pointing out silly mistakes, certainly not on his first lesson with them anyhow. After being certain that it was correct, he flipped the board over. He was not going to have them look at that until the end of class, but it was easier for him to get it prepared now then waste time in class. First time with the unforgivable curse could take a bit longer.
After preparing the board, he went to his desk. On it was the attendance list. Checking for the second time he reviewed the names. Going over them in his head. Fortunately there did not seem to be anyone who he remembered suffering horribly at Voldemort's hands. He had heard the story from the previous year. Apparently Neville was quite horribly affected by a demonstration of one of the three horrible curses and he did not want a repeat showing this year. It simply would not do to have some one pass out in class, but apparently he was in the clear.
As people filed in and found their places, he prepared to begin. Moving to where he liked to sit, he waited one last second, making certain that as many stragglers from breakfast got here on time. As people set up, he called their attention to him, "I'm Professor Lupin, as I'm sure most of you remember and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts. All good wizards and witches need certain skills to protect them from forces that would have harm done to them. Generally, I will be giving practical lessons, there isn't much in class bookwork and that sort, but with our first section that is simply not an option.
"Now then, I want every one to look at your wands. This device is one of the most powerful tools at your disposal. It has the ability to be your greatest ally or a dangerous tool. Both dark and light actions can happen with this simple and elegant tool. You can defend or you can injure, some even seek death with this.
"This year will be devoted to curses, but this first section will be devoted to three in particular, can anyone tell me what those might be?"
At that prompting nearly all of the Ravenclaws raised their hands into the air. He noticed that quite a few Gryffindors also levitated their hands which swelled his old house pride; however he choose upon one of the Ravenclaws. "Yes."
"The unforgivable curses," said a fourteen-year-old girl.
"Quite right, five points to Ravenclaw. Right, now then can anyone name one of these curses?" again he received a similar reaction this time calling on a Gryffindor boy, "Mr. Creevy?"
"Avada Kedavra. You know, the one Harry survived," the boy said.
Oh yes, this boy had a bit of an obsession on Mr. Potter. He apparently hero-worshiped him and the ground Harry walked on. "Correct, what does this curse do?"
He called on one of the Ravenclaws who answered accurately, not like there was any surprise there. "Yes, it is the killer curse. Is there a defense against this curse?"
Hands, a sea of hands. Choosing at random he got another answer. "Your answer is partially right, there is no counter-curse, but there are some rather unique magical events that can allow a person to survive. As Mr. Creevy pointed out, Harry Potter survived because of one of these. It is the most ancient for of magic. This particular form effects both wizard and muggle alike. There are certain blood charms that can offer protection. Emotion has always been at the center of the issue. Love. has the ability to conquer the most horrible and deadly of curses. Harry survived because of the love of his parents and their sacrifice.
"Can anyone name any other reasons the curse might fail or backfire?" This time not a single hand levitated in the air. "No? Certain wands have properties that cannot be broken no matter who uses them and for what. Certain wands lending their cores from a single source can often block thing that an ordinary wand would not. It is the power of certain centers of wands. However the likeliness of this saving you is next to nil. When dealing with Avada Kedavra I would suggest a path of avoidance. Don't get in its way and you should be fine, that really is the only thing that is likely to save you.
"Can any one tell me the rest of the Unforgivable Curses?" This time he got a far more desirable result as again a sea of hands was at his disposal to chose from.
"Correct. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Now then. I'm only going to demonstrate one of these curses today, the Imperius Curse. This particular curse is one that by the end of this year I want you to all know, personally and by the signs and perhaps some of you will be able to fight the strength of this curse, we shall see. Now then, may I have a volunteer?" Few hands on the Ravenclaw side rose while quite a few on the Gryffindor were present; again a small twinge of house pride announced itself in his heart. "Ms. Ginny Weasley, if you would please indulge me?"
The young girl, the very image of the Weasley family, stood by her seat. He knew this girl had a fancy for Harry and for some odd reason this girl reminded him of Lilly in a very abstract way. "Now then, Ms. Weasley, I am going to demonstrate the power of this particular curse upon you. This curse has the ability to have you loose complete control of ones actions; I can make you do anything I like, from the silly to the dark. That is the reason this curse is worthy of life imprisonment at Azkaban. Now then, if you would please move to the front of the class." The girl complied as she was asked. He took his wand in hand and. "Imperio."
With that the curse fell upon the girl. Her head lolled to her chest and she was clearly not under her own control. "Lets see. what shall I have you do? Ah!" Suddenly the girl did a wild back leap that would have been impossible for her on her own. A giggle passed through the class. Time to make this more serious, "This may look funny, but I have TOTAL control of Ms. Weasley. If I felt so inclined I could have her leap out a window or drown herself. That is the reason this curse is so horrible and so powerful. This curse became a favorite tool of the Death Eaters and the like. It caused good wizards and witches to do the unimaginable. Oh, Ms. Weasley," he shook his hand and she suddenly snapped out of her trance.
"Curses such as this are the worst wizards have learned to use against each other. I will teach you what I can about these curses and how they can be countered, but the most important thing I can tell you is that not all curses can be countered. As you know Avada Kedavra is not counter-able, so I'm certain your asking why am I showing you these? You need to be able to recognize them. the best policy when it comes to curses such as this is avoidance."
"Now then," he flipped the chalkboard over, "I want you to jot down some of this information. We will be continuing this subject in our next month worth of classes, at the end of that time I will be expecting a ten roll essay at the end, a bit long I am aware, but these three curses are very important." a groan passed through the class on the Gryffindor side, but the Ravenclaw looked down right excited. "Right, on to homework, one scroll on the history of these and their use and problems they caused during the rise of Voldemort."
The rest of class was spent in silence as they transcribed the information from the board and making other pertinent notes on the topic. When the bell sounded the class was emptied out save for the straggling Ravenclaws, "Yes, you can hand me more then ten rolls, but I don't want more than thirty and if you hand me that much I'll guarantee only a skim or a grade that will be very late, your choice. Have I answered your questions?" Not to his surprise all nodded and left.
As his classroom was left in silence he erased the board, pulled out his lesson plan, and gulped. During his previous class he had put the subject of his apprehension out of his head, but now it returned as strong, if not stronger than before. Snape had made it an issue before his arrival so he figured he might as well get this over. It made the most sense because Snape had actively tried to turn his student and his house members against him, then at least Snape could not say they were not prepared to deal with him. No, on the contrary, they would know more than enough about his kind. He simply was not going to teach in a manner as biased as Snape had tried to. On top of the biased nature of their previous lessons on the subject, there was always the fact that the books were often misinformed on many points on the subject and he was not going to have students passing on this flawed information as accuracy unlike so many others had. A lot of it was simply ridiculous, the legends were taken as fact and they exceedingly were stretched to stress the point of the danger his kind provided. Over generations this simply became fact, not the myths it had once been. Some were simply illogical, like the idea of shooting a werewolf with a silver bullet to cure them, posh, that simply brings death. He certainly would be stamping that idea out in the minds of these students.
After this more sensitive subject they were at least moving into far friendlier ground, depending on ones point of view of course. This year would be devoted to perfection of earlier learnt concepts and perfection of their application. These students would be tested on their O.W.L's this year and he wanted to make certain that they got as many and were as well prepared as they could.
-=(^)=-
She walked through the mostly empty hallways. Nearly all the students had found the Great Hall making it a loud place during lunch. Those who had not had either returned to their dorms or frequented the lunch hall were to be discovered generally in the library. Her bounds of knee length, gold hair flowed just slightly after her with every step as she made her way.
The distance was not horribly far and she soon arrived where she had intended. The dark dungeons, that place which had always had the ability to strike at least a bit of fear into the heart of students, was nearly as she had remembered. She could remember the hours of class time she had spent in here, bent over a simmering caldron, coaxing her mixtures to be as desired.
She had always enjoyed school and potions had been little different. Academics were her strong suit, even if she found the teachers less than desirable on occasion. As it was, that was how she had felt about her old potions teacher. He had been a grumpy and slightly creepy wizard, who clearly had not seen the sun in many years. He had that odd scent she had always associated with potions, a bit of smoke and random ingredients to be found in most potions. She had noticed this smell on Severus when he stood close enough to her. In an odd way she kind of liked that scent, it had never been associated with ill feeling memories.
The old potions master had had that ability to descend upon one with out them knowing and scare a student doing both that which they should nor what they should not be doing. She had noticed that Severus himself had that ability to move through the shadows in silence and then. pounce. This ability reminded her of a cat and how they hunt their prey.
As she entered the darkened dungeon that was in desperate need of light she searched for the man who haunted them. She had expected to find hunched over his stack of papers, grading them with a sneer. Stop it. Stop demonizing him. He isn't that bad. no your rationalizing. you feel. STOP IT.
He had not been hunched over grading papers; no, he had fallen asleep with his on those papers. Naria saw the top one and something that looked suspiciously like an F circled on it. She was about to leave him to his dreams. As she turned, however, she heard him make a noise. She froze in her spot. Feeling as a student, she froze in her spot. In the years that had passed since she had last seen him, she had become slightly afraid of this man and what he represented to her. She, like so many of his students, feared his voice that was both a whisper and a yell all in one. But that noise that had escaped him had not been one made by a man who was conscious. Again he uttered something and she watched him quiver. She found this the oddest thing she had ever seen in a man. It was a strange idea to say the least.
She noticed his behavior more carefully. She noticed that his lips uttered a name and then his face contorted again. She half expected a scream to escape them, but to Snape's credit that did not happed. Again his head moved, quivering to the other direction. She could see a small stream of what looked to be. tears. on his cheek. She had never seen this side of Snape and had hoped that she would never see it again. She knew he was having what must have been a horrible nightmare. She knew what that felt like and felt sorry for him on so many levels.
It pained her to watch him. It pained her to see him in pain. She had once loved this man and now found that she still had a place in her heart for him. She did not want him to be so pained as he clearly was now. She was tempted to make a move towards him, tempted to shake him out of his sleep. Hesitant she moved forward, edging towards where he both sat and slept.
Her suspicion had been proven correct upon a closer inspection. Snape in fact had a small stream of tears running down his pale skin. As she looked at him she rounded the desk and knelt in front of him. Nervously she moved with a slightly unsteady hand to wake him. Touching his midnight black robes she shook him lightly at first. He woke with a start as she had expected, but she had still found herself off guard. His eyes snapped to her and the sneer turned into something of a grimace. "What do you want?" he asked a bit more forcefully than she had hoped he intended but could not be certain.
"I.I.I" she was at a loss for words. Now in his sights she found her ground taken out form under her.
"Out with it," he demanded harshly. Then cutting her off he continued on, "Do you draw pleasure from my suffering? Did you enjoy that little show?" He was livid and she was afraid. He had gotten to his feet and now she found herself pressed against the wall, afraid but still caring. She would not be deterred from caring for him even if he wanted anything but.
"How can you possibly think that, Severus?" she said in a voice that held none of her fear, none of that which he was trying to press into her. No, she answered his livid voice with one that was not cool like his had been so many time, but full of feeling. Feeling that she had tried so many times to deny herself, but she knew in her heart of hearts that that was the case. "I have felt the same things as you. I have had the same dreams as you. I have woken with a start on more occasions than I care to think about. No, Severus, I would not find this a show. I have to much experience with things such as these and."
"And what?" he demanded venomously.
"And. and. and you ," she said barely getting the words out herself. Barely allowing herself to except the truth.
-=(^)=-
Snape heard what she had said. Staring at her in disbelief his mind raced with the implications of what every single word could hold. He looked at this woman, this woman he had once felt emotion, true emotion, for. This woman who he had risked it all for. This woman who he had forsaken the Death Eaters for. This woman who he had become a spy for. This woman who had betrayed him more than he had betrayed anyone.
He had trouble looking at her and not wishing he hadn't forsaken the Death Eaters. It now disgusted him that he had once loved her. It made him sick to think that her lips had once touched his, that he would have given all for one night with her. He was sickened that the woman who he let see his heart now found respite in the arms of a werewolf.
His eyes held a fire that he knew would strike a fear into her heart. He knew how she reacted. He remembered that night now over fifteen years prior. He had remembered her cowering under his gaze and the power it had given him. But as he remembered her fear and how he had drunken from it he could also remember his fear and pain from that night. It had been perfect before Voldemort had arrived. He might of even unleashed that most unforgivable curse upon her small form. Yes, he had cared for her but in the power of the moment he could of done so many things and now he was not so sure he would of regretted pointing his wand at her and saying the simple two word incantation. No, he would have enjoyed watching the life drain from her, leaving her as lifeless as he now felt.
She however held his stare, held the gaze which had once feared more than anything else. She stared into his eyes that were a shade darker than the night sky. She held his stare evenly and measured, refusing to show the fact she was truly afraid of his eyes and the look that held them. Refusing to show the truth.
He held the venom of his words on his face as he considered what she had said, as he considered for a second time what her cryptic words could mean. He thought and silently wondered. She was right was the only conclusion he could come to. She had never shown him malice. No she had in fact shown him more consideration than anyone he had ever met. Her eyes still held that soft place in which he had been drawn into. That place which had once showed him that he was important. She had held herself for him as a school girl. She had shown him understanding that had allowed him for a time to forget the fear and the hate he had once felt towards the world. Now staring into her eyes he felt the same hatred he had developed melt away by the second. He for some reason could not stay long mad at her. No, it had taken all his strength to stay mad this long.
The conclusion in hand, he drew back. He no longer held her against the wall cowering in fear. With his presence withdrawn he noticed her draw in a lusty breath. She had clearly not been breathing when he had been staring her down. He drew back into himself. He rarely did this sort of things these days. He had long ago learned to keep his emotions in check. This situation had clearly been trying on him. Silently he felt a tad ashamed for his emotional outburst. I am a grown man who still threw tantrums, he thought mirthlessly.
Returning to his old self, that self which rarely made emotional outbreaks allowed him to once again survey her. I have been disappointed so many times in life, why should she be any different? But she was different, even if he did not want to admit it to himself it was still the case. "Why are you here Professor?" he asked, a sneer spreading across his face.
This time she was able to answer and not stutter in the process, "I have been informed that you have the ingredients that are necessary to make the Wolfsbane potion. I need them if Remus is to have his potion before the full moon." Her words may have come through without stuttering, but she was far quieter than normal.
"Yes, we wouldn't want him running around in the form of the Wolf now would we?" he said in tone that was far more snide than anything he had used previous. He remembered all to well what could happen when "the Wolf" was not contained. He personally felt that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures should deal with all of Remus's kind but thought wiser than to tell her. She may not stand up to harassment now, but he knew that she could if pushed and he knew than in all likelihood she would to.
Staring at her he could not figure what it was about the werewolf that attracted her. He found it completely and utter ridiculous that she should take her company with his kind. Looking at her he said what had been on his mind when ever she entered a room with that abomination, "What is it you see in him?"
-=(^)=-
Naria looked at the potions master. He had again retreated into himself. She was shocked by what he had just said. Staring at him, she came to an answer.
-=(^)=-
He looked at her, waiting for her answer he stared into her eyes. He could see emotion filling their blue orbs and knew she was coming to an answer.
"Because I could only wait so long. The heart has a way of growing cold over time," she finally answered. Her voice was almost a yell, but her eyes where pleading with him to stop this. He would do anything but.
"Why him?" he said, his voice full of venom.
"Why not him?" she asked, her voice held the same tone as his and the same fiery steel he had once associated with her.
"He's a werewolf," Snape said with even more venom in his voice.
"And you were a Death Eater," she said again matching him in tone and intonation.
Snape looked at her, shocked by the intonation of her voice. He had never expected her to hold that tone. But he was not going to show the fact that he was shocked. "Do you want were-cubs running around with Slytherin's blood?" he asked.
"How do you know what we intend to do in our private life? How do you know he and I have any intention of having children?" she asked him, for the first time actually standing reaching her full height.
"You lay with him, do you not?"
"How is that any of your business?"
"He wants children. Can you truly please him if you are unable to give him children?"
He expected a quick answer but none came. She sat there looking at him considering his words on the verge of tears. She finally answered, her voice constricted, yet clear. The emotion of her words was palpable, "He.he loves me and is willing. willing to live a life.a life without chil.child.ren."
"Is it fair for you to request that of him?" Severus said in return. "Is it fair for you to ask him to live a life with out hope of spreading his genes, of continuing his line?"
Again she seemed to be unable to answer him. He waited, he knew she would eventually come up with what she felt and would be able to put it to words.
When she answered her voice was soft, barely a whisper, "No, its not fair. Its never been fair, but he doesn't seem to care about that." She collapsed against the wall, sinking to the floor.
Snape looked upon her. He had never seen like this. He had never seen her so small. He had never seen her vulnerable, like this anyhow. In the back of his mind a quiet voice nagged him about reducing her to this state. He knew that voice to be his conscious and he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it very long. His sneer, that had so long been his constant companion, left his face. The potions master walked to where she sat and knelt down in front of her.
He looked at her face. So long ago, it was the ray of beauty in his life. Now it was dark and clouded. Tears ran down her soft, pale skin, shining in the dim light of his dungeons. He outstretched his hand and wiped away the damp stream from her skin. For a moment his hand lingered upon her cheek. Their eyes met. Hers so full of sadness she had bottled up for so long and his. His were full of similar sadness, but also a longing. He had for so long gone without company, without love. He hated Remus more for the fact that he had found love than the fact that he was a werewolf.
He kissed her lightly upon the lips. They both wanted this, needed this, especially him. He had gone so long with out love. But than he pulled away. This was not right, no matter how much he wanted it. He had been disappointed so many times in his life, why should she be any different? No, he loved her, that's why. She was different even if he refused to acknowledge the truth of the matter.
It was for the best, he thought quietly. Everyone he had ever loved had died and he had been responsible at least in part of for the deaths. His own family had died because of him. Voldemort would not accept entanglements of any sort and so they had been killed. He had watched them suffer, had heard his own mother scream in terror. And he. He had stood there, deft to their suffering. He had stood there and had done nothing to stop their sufferings and deaths. She had been the only person he had ever cared for who had not died. He had not stood by silently. No, he had prevented Voldemort giving her the same fate as all the others.
He stood and turned away. Walking to the store room, leaving her where she sat he retrieved that which she asked for. By the time he got back she was on her feet. Her face showed no sign of that which she had felt mere moments before. No, she was once again the image of serenity. Handing her things to her she politely thanked him, "Thank you, Professor."
"My pleasure, as long as he gets his potion," he said the sneer once again returning to his face. And with that she was gone and he returned to his normal foul mooded self. He took pleasure in the idea that he would have students latter today. He was nearly certain that most would not be passing this lesson.
-=(^)=-
This was horribly wrong. Why had she done that? She loved Remus and no other. Or that's at least what she kept trying to tell herself.
She was not disserved of his love, of any love and she knew it. She knew that neither Snape nor Remus should of ever looked upon her and felt what they did. It was wrong, she was wrong. Evil thoughts ran through her head. She considered her wand and how easy it would be. But no.
Naria carried her things back to her classroom and office. Setting them down she sat herself in a chair. No one need know of this. Snape would never tell. It would make everyone happier. Truly Remus didn't need to hear this, at least not so close to the full moon. Her thoughts rambled and rambled. Her head ached. She would worry over this far longer than was fair. She hadn't wanted that kiss, she hadn't needed it. But you were wanting it if not needing it, said a voice that was anything but a conscious. You still want it, it hissed again at her.
"This isn't healthy," she said into the darkened room. "You love Remus. Now get a hold of yourself. Severus means nothing, nothing." That's not true and your well aware. "Now then we have class. They can't see you like this, it would be impropriety of the worst sort. Get a hold." Naria collected herself and thoughts in the darkened study. Soon enough the class began to fill and she would soon give her lesson.
-=(^)=-
Remus stood in front of his class, thankful for one major fact, the class he was teaching was full of people who accepted him for who and what he was. Today's lesson was one of difficulty for him, he would be teaching on what he was.
His heart pounded in his ears, beating with such a ferocity that he felt for sure he was dying. Standing in front of his class he felt as if he was on trial, on the stand, and the jury had just announced his guilt and sentence.
"Today's lesson will be one that is considered. practical. by some," his voice held a bit of an edge towards the end of the sentence. His mind went towards Professor Snape for a moment and than back to the class, "We will begin a short study of one of the more dangerous creatures that you may have the misfortune of facing. We will be studying werewolves. As I am sure you are all aware of the fact that I am such a creature. That is why some fear me so much.
"In the study of this subject I ask you to remember that allot of the facts about werewolves are. incorrect at best. I also ask you to remember that when dealing with werewolves in their human form that they too have emotions just as you. They care for people, they can and do love, and they feel pain. But with this group I expect nothing less." A smile crossed his face as he thought about some of his students. He knew that Harry and his friends were more than aware of the dehumanizing effect of certain peoples hurtful words.
"Now then, text books out and wands away. Today we shall take notes and a report will be due by next class." As the class readied themselves he also prepared to begin. He knew that he would have to undo a lot of stereotypical ideas that had been placed in some of his students heads. "Right. Now who can tell me how to cure a werewolf?"
A small sea of hands raised. He noticed at once Hermione Granger, but he knew she would have the right answer and he was looking for the wrong answer for a change. His gaze fell upon Ron. He knew the boy read comic books and stories for fun on occasion and would probably give him the answer he was looking for. "Ron Weasley, yes?"
"You shoot them with a silver bullet," the boy said a tad unsure.
The voice in the back of Remus's head at once began to make remarks. The sort of remarks that could only bring ones moral down. But he choose to ignore them. He had been looking for that answer. "Okay, misconception number one. Hermione care to give us the proper answer?"
The girl immediately beamed with recognition and answered, her voice strong and firm in a know-it-all tone he had come to associate with her "There is no known cure for a werewolf bite after a certain period of time has passed. Upon a bite it can be cured, but certainly not in that form. The Wolfsbane potion may however, alleviate some of the symptoms."
He silently was amazed by how smart this girl really was. He would be horribly surprised if she didn't make head girl in her seventh. No one had higher marks in any class and so it was only logical that the position should go to her. Even Snape, who viewed her as an insufferable know-it-all had not failed her, no, she had excelled. "Very good Hermione, ten points to Gryffindor. Now then if you were to try to cure your relative in the way Mr. Weasley suggested only death would result. This is one of many misconceptions that surrounds the werewolf breed. This is probably the most damning one of all, I must say. Its original purpose was to do away with children from families who had werewolves before there were cures for the were bite. Now it. it lingers, an insipid truth yet to be done away with through logic and understanding on both sides of the line. Now then on the first paper you will be doing in this subject I shall expect. oh, three rolls on. misconceptions about werewolves and the consequences of such misconceptions. No more than one roll on the misconception we discussed today.
"I will be gone tomorrow and in all likelihood the day after that as well. The reason is the full moon. Professor Naria Sojair will however be taking over the class. The rolls are not due to her however, they will be handed to me. Understood?" Nods answered him telling him that they knew all to well what was asked of them.
Remus went over to his desk and sat as they transcribed notes and began working on the paper that would be soon due. Already he had had papers turned in by other classes and felt that since he hadn't anything else to lecture upon today that it made more sense to start grading his enlarging mountain of papers. His nervousness was beginning to ebb. No longer did his heart beat heavily and strong. He knew that already the moon tides were playing with him and toy with him. Tonight was going to be difficult, he was aware. His nervousness would find its way to the wolf's conscious and toy with them. He was silently thankful for the potion that Naria would be brewing after her last class. It would allow him to perhaps go unscathed through out the night.
-=(^)=-
Naria leaned over the caldron. She had made this potion a hundred times and yet she had never felt so incompetent as she did now. She was preoccupied and she knew that could be dangerous while making potions such as this. Every ingredient and step she double checked, wouldn't want to poison the poor man. No, he was depending upon her and she would be certain that he remained whole and unscathed throughout the night as best she could.
Adding the last ingredient the caldrons contents began to bubble and froth. At least that was a good sign. She was disserved of one today. It had been trying to say the least. As the smoke and bubbles cleared from her work area Naria took a ladle and put some of the disgusting smelling concoction in a goblet. She would soon enough take this to Remus. She dared not think twice about was in it if she was not to wretch when he downed it. She knew he had the impulse do such when ever he had to drink it down. She was silently thankful that he was not completely aware of its ingredients. She dared not think that he would down it willingly if he was even half aware of what it contained.
Lifting the goblet she made her way back to his wing of classes due to the fact that she was aware he would still be grading and preparing for future classes. She also knew that he would be preparing her lesson plan. Defense Against the Dark Arts was far more important a class then Spells in the current weather of the situation. Her classes had been canceled on all days after the full moon in order that the classes Remus taught went on even without him.
As she walked she thought of the days events. She did not want to look him in the eye. She did not know if she would be able to face him. He trusted her and she had broken his trust in both thought and action. She was not worthy of him and she knew it. She just didn't want him to know it as well. She really didn't know what would happen if he left her. Again the voice in the back of her mind, the one that reminded her of the petulant child we all had again harassed her with evil ideas and thoughts, thoughts of Severus.
As she entered the room she carefully averted her gaze from his. She did however, notice that he carried the same look of complete trust and acceptance he had always carried when he gazed at her. A smile spread across his face, making him look younger, gray hair or not. "Naria, my love, how has your day been? Not trying I hope."
Trying, with the word her heart began to beat at such a speed. She was surprised he did not hear it, surprised the world could not hear it. In her own ears it sounded like the loudest drum she had ever heard. Her face, to her credit, did not redden. A smile that was quit fake spread across her face as she answered. Her eyes, however, did not meet his, "Trying, no. Quite amiable." We've already lied so many times today, what will one more hurt?
"Good, I dare say I think my day would go quite down hill if I found your day had been anything but amiable," he said, his usual cordial self. He hadn't any idea and her lies sickened her. She was especially sickened by how easy they came to her lips. "Is this it?" when she nodded his face contorted a bit at the idea of drinking what was in the goblet. "Well, bottoms up," and with that he swallowed the contents in the goblet. The contorted look on his face only worsened with the taste.
As Naria stood there she suddenly remembered a certain part of his biology. What if he could smell the scent of Snape upon her? Her heart beat even stronger, but in all likelihood the scent of the disgusting concoction would probably out do the scent of the potions master any day. She would however have to take a very long shower if he was not to smell him upon her latter. She silently wondered if that was the only reason she wanted the shower. Can water really wash away my sins?
"Well I have grading to get to, you will of course understand if I am not restored to you tonight for obvious reasons. I, however, have hope for tomorrow night. The lesson plan will be ready for you in the morning and I dare say you can take it from there," again he smiled at his fiancé, oblivious to the thoughts cursing through her head.
She hated him for that. She hated him for not being able to see through her. And she hated herself for allowing these insipid lies to continue, unchecked. She couldn't see herself any more. She had become distorted, herself image horribly altered by both lies and hidden, unsaid desire. Turning she left him to his work. She would spend this night wallowing in self pity and hatred, she was well aware. Naria walked through the hallways, her shoes ringing with every step. Maybe she should eat at the high table tonight, wouldn't want to be seen as antisocial on top of all. But the idea both delighted her and struck her with fear. Could she really endure a meal with Snape's gaze upon her? And Dumbledore. he always knew the truth that sat in ones heart. She was uncertain as to whether she could stand him knowing the truth of her heart.
As she thought about her actions another voice whispered to her, You're glad he can't see through you.Wouldn't want a lycanthrope angry with before the full moon.
