Chapter Twenty-One: Against the Dying of the Light
Evangeline Winthrop-Snape stood at the window of her room and stared unseeingly out into the darkness. She'd told Remus that she needed to go to bed and get some sleep, but the truth was that she doubted if she'd sleep at all tonight. The pain in her former lover's eyes when she'd told him that she needed to go to bed alone had been heartbreaking, but what else could she say…what else could she do? They simply couldn't be lovers anymore. Not now…not ever. He had to know that…as hard as it might be for him to accept. Being with Remus had turned out to be the biggest mistake she'd ever made in her life. She'd been afraid that it wasn't the right thing to do, but never in her wildest dreams did she ever think it would turn out to be this big a disaster! She wasn't a widow after all, she was still a wife, but for how much longer?
Severus. For such an unbearably long time she'd had to bury his name in the deepest region of her mind because to bring it to the surface, to think it openly, caused her such heartache that it made her ill. She smiled joyfully and blinked back tears. Now that was no longer true. Now she could think it as often as she wanted! Her mind luxuriated in the feel of his name as it slipped easily through her thoughts once more. Severus. She could say it aloud…in a whisper or a shout, enjoying the ineffable pleasure of hearing those wonderful tantalizing syllables echoing in her ears and bringing warmth to her numbed heart once more. Because Severus is alive! After all this time…he's alive! He's alive! He's alive! He's alive! Her heart sang the refrain over and over again. Tears of exquisite pain flowed freely down her cheeks as she relived the absolute wonder of the simple fact that her husband wasn't dead.
That fact alone should be enough! She should just be happy about that. She should simply rejoice in this miracle. Even if he never wanted her again…he's alive. It was the answer to her most fervent prayer. It wasn't fate's fault after all that she hadn't also prayed for them to be together. She'd simply assumed that if he lived…they would be. Well, that'll teach her, won't it? Never assume…never.
The smile of joy faded from her lips as her abused mind, not content to dwell on these happy thoughts, dragged up the image of her beloved husband for her to examine in minute detail. He'd looked so thin, so pale…so hurt. The pain in his eyes had been overwhelming. It had been like a cold knife driven straight into her heart and then twisted cruelly. Most people found Snape's eyes to be unreadable and empty because they were so dark, and he was so good at keeping his facial expressions blank. But she'd learned to read him well, and all she'd seen in his eyes was pain. When he'd first looked at her there'd been love, she was sure of it, she'd seen the warmth, the desire, but once he'd seen such painful proof of how she'd betrayed him, that had all vanished in an instant to be replaced with the unending soul killing pain…which he'd tried to bury under wave after wave of molten anger. But he hadn't fooled her; she knew how much she'd hurt him. He didn't deserve to be treated so badly. He deserved her love and loyalty…her fidelity, and she'd failed him…utterly.
How could she do that to him on top of what he'd already suffered? To spend over a year in Voldemort's hands had to mean torture…unceasing and cruel beyond belief, probably. To have endured that for so long only to fight his way back to her and find her in the arms of another man…no wonder he didn't want her any more. She could hardly blame him. If their roles had been reversed, it would have made her sick to her stomach to find him making love to some other woman. To have seen his hands on another's body, to have seen evidence of his kiss on another's throat, she couldn't bear the very thought, how could she expect him to bear the reality when she'd thrust it so cruelly into his face.
Shaking with horror and desolation, she covered her eyes with her hands to try uselessly to block out the image of those beautiful dark eyes looking at her with so much pain in their depths. Gods! How stupid she'd been to think that she could ever replace him in any way with someone else! She should have listened to the little voice inside her that told her that taking Remus as a lover was a mistake. Here she was, going on with her life, finding solace in the arms of another man when the only one she truly loved was suffering the tortures of the damned over and over again. Could he ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself?
Lowering her hands she smiled bitterly into the velvet night. What was she thinking? This was Severus Snape…forgiveness isn't something he does. Goodness knows she should have learned that lesson by now. She'd had her chance…more than once. She was unlikely to get another one. How many could he possibly be expected to give her, after all? How many could she ever deserve?
In the cold lonely darkness her thoughts plunged deeply into her gloomy feelings of guilt. As long as he stayed in pain, he was never going to forgive her. There really wasn't any point in begging him to reconsider. He wouldn't listen, and why should he? Her conduct had been abysmal. She didn't deserve another chance, and he'd never give her one. He was too angry…too proud…and too hurt.
She wrapped her empty arms around herself and swayed back and forth to the beat of her heart. She couldn't just give up, though! Not now that she knew him to be alive! Perhaps given time he could be made to listen to her pleas…her apologies. Oh, she couldn't let it all end this way. She couldn't!
As her inner eye stared at his beloved visage within her thoughts, she found herself begging, "I love you, Severus! I'll always love you…I can't help myself. I've spent the last year trying to persuade my heart that I can live without you…go on without you…care for someone else, but simply seeing you again has given lie to those thoughts forever. All it took was one look at your face, and I knew how deluded I'd been. I can't be with Remus again. It wouldn't be fair to him. I'll never love anyone else but you Severus. That's crystal clear to my heart now. I don't know why it took so much to make me realize it for the truth, but I know without question that it's so. Whether you ever want me again or not, I can't ever be with anyone else. Making love to another man…any other man…would be pointless and wrong. You're the only man in the world for me, Severus. Somehow I have to find a way to make you understand that. Please, give me another chance. Don't dissolve our marriage. I can't face that. I just got you back. I can't lose you again…I can't! If you truly leave me forever…I don't think I'll have the strength to pick myself up and go on again, and if that happened what would be the point in going on anyway? What would be the point?"
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An emotionally exhausted Remus Lupin sat on the couch in the sitting room of Evangeline's cottage and stared at the head of Minerva McGonagall in the fireplace in front of him.
"She's gone up to bed, Minerva, but I'd be amazed if she's asleep. All day long, all she'd do is lie here and stare into the fire. It was just like she was after he'd died, I mean after we thought he'd died, all over again. I can't help her. She won't let me in. I feel so useless."
"I'm sure just your being there has been very helpful to her, Remus. It means that she's not alone. Probably there's nothing else anyone can do for her at the moment. She needs to talk to Severus."
Remus sighed and slumped down in his seat. "Well, unless he's calmed down an awful lot, I don't see that happening anytime soon. You should have seen him this morning, Minerva. God, he was so enraged! He was so hard on her. He wouldn't listen to her…to either of us. He wouldn't let her touch him. He was the cold, sneering, miserable bastard he used to be. I didn't realize how much he'd changed when he'd married Evangeline, but his behavior today brought that home very clearly. Even the slightest hint that he could understand what she'd suffered since he was gone was absent. It was awful…absolutely awful."
Minerva nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine. When I spoke to him earlier, it was obvious that he was still very angry…and also deeply hurt. Severus has never been able to handle being hurt. Oh, physical pain, yes. I can only imagine the sort of horrible physical torture that the man has suffered through for the last year. Just the thought of it makes me ill, but emotional pain is another matter all together. Evangeline is the very first person that I'm aware of that Severus has ever allowed to get close enough to truly hurt him. Finding her with you, was simply more than he could take after being denied her company for so long. It's such an unfortunate situation."
Remus snorted and shook his head. "That's putting it mildly. You have a talent for understatement, Minerva."
Minerva regarded him sympathetically. "How are you, Remus? This must be devastating for you, too."
He rubbed his hand wearily across his face and sighed. "Devastating… To tell you the truth, I'm not sure how I feel…I'm still a bit numb over the whole thing. Let's just say I'm hanging in there, Minerva, but frankly I don't know what to do next. As hard as it is for me to admit it, I always knew that I was simply a placeholder in her life. She doesn't love me, although, I know she was trying to, but now that she knows that Severus is alive, I'm sure that's finished. Even if he continues to act like a fool and reject her, she's not going to come back to me. I'm just kidding myself if I believe anything else. She's too honorable for that. She'd consider it dishonest."
Knowing he was probably right, Minerva nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Remus. I know how much you love, Evangeline."
"Yeah…well…that's the way it goes sometimes." He stared down at the floor.
"What are you going to do now?"
He leaned back against the couch and shrugged his shoulders. "I'll stand by Evangeline for as long as she wants me, I guess. What else can I do? She's in shock. She shouldn't be alone at the moment."
Minerva nodded. "She's lucky to have you, Remus. Well, I should go and let you get some rest if you can. Please, keep in touch, all right? I'm worried about both of you."
"Don't worry about me, Minerva. I'll be fine, and I'll take as good care of Evangeline as she'll let me, I promise."
"Good night, Remus."
"Good night, Minerva."
After Minerva's head had vanished from the fireplace, Remus Lupin continued to sit there dazedly and stare into the flames. How the hell did he feel anyway? Angry…frustrated…devastated…all good words, but none of them quite seemed to cover the wealth of conflicted feelings that surged within him.
He turned his eyes up to the ceiling wishing that he could see her…know what she was doing…how she was feeling…wanting so desperately to go to her, to be with her, to offer comfort…and love. He sighed and sat forward resting his head in his hands. If he did offer love and comfort, she wouldn't accept it. She'd made it clear when she went upstairs that she didn't want anything from him right now…probably never would again. When she said she wanted to go to bed…alone, he knew it was over…and his heart wept.
Suddenly he couldn't sit there another moment. He leaped to his feet and grabbed up his cloak as he opened the door and practically threw himself out into the night to prowl restlessly along the cliff path on his way to the summit, which overlooked the dark churning ocean.
When he reached the cliff top where he'd watched Evangeline paint his wonderful Christmas present such a long time ago now, he dropped down onto the same convenient rock and stared out at the seething water as it sparkled restlessly in the light from the waxing moon.
"Oh, Angel…It's been so wonderful being with you. We were beginning to be so happy together. You were starting to really care for me. I know you were. If we'd only had more time, I know I could've made you love me the way I love you…if there'd only been more time. Damn it! How the hell did this happen? Why couldn't that bastard you married have stayed dead?" He thought miserably.
Jumping to his feet, he scooped up some small rocks from the ground and began to cast them as hard as he could into nothingness. "You hear me Snape, you lousy bastard!" He yelled in fury. "Why aren't you dead? Huh? You're supposed to be dead! Why did you have to come back? Just to cause her pain, is that it? Leaving in the first place wasn't good enough for you? That didn't hurt her enough? Now you have to come back and sneer at her and reject her…just to twist the knife a bit more! Or maybe it was my life you wanted to destroy, huh? Payback for the wrongs you always held to my account? Did you get a thrill from screwing with my life today, Snape? Did it make you happy? God damn you to hell!!"
As he threw the last stone he stood there breathing hard and trying to get himself under control. Anger twisted through his guts, and he could feel the wolf inside clawing at his soul. If Snape had been standing in front of him at this moment, he'd have attacked him without a moments hesitation, pushed him over the edge of the cliff, and taken great pleasure in watching his body get crushed and broken on the razor sharp rocks below in the restless sea.
Teeth bared and hackles raised, Lupin stared down into the mesmerizing ocean as it churned and lurched and swelled…and beckoned. The ocean suddenly seemed to call to him. An insidious thought squirmed through his mind; he could end it all…all the anger, all the frustration…all the pain. It would be so easy… Suddenly scared of the tumult of confusing feelings that surged through him, he backed quickly away from the edge of the cliff, banging once more into the large rock he'd perched on before and sat down on top of it abruptly.
Desperately he covered his face with his trembling hands as he tried to make sense out of the jumble of feelings coursing through him. How could he even think of killing himself…or anyone else? That wasn't him. He couldn't do that…not ever. He could feel the intense anger of a moment ago draining out of him, taming the wolf and leaving him empty and spent.
Slowly he lowered his hands and stared once more at the river of shimmering moonlight as it undulated on the dark ocean. Could he really blame Severus for not being dead? Was that fair? No. Could he even blame him for being upset at finding his wife literally in the arms of another man? No…not really. He'd probably have felt the same way in his place. Given time…Snape'll probably get over his anger…and want her back.
Perhaps that was what was upsetting him the most, if he was honest. Snape was still alive, and Evangeline was still in love with him. Sooner or later, they're going to find their way back to each other…and he'll have to watch it happen. Once more he'll be shunted to the side and expected to take up the mantle of supportive friend. But could he really do it again? Having held her in his arms and made love to her…could he really go back to being nothing more than her friend?
He sighed deeply. Did he have any other choice? She needed his help, and he couldn't imagine abandoning her now. He loved her…and you don't abandon those you love, especially when they need your support so badly. Somehow…he was going to have to put his feelings aside and be there for her…for as long as she needed him.
Resolutely, he pushed his feelings back down deep inside and got to his feet. With one last slightly longing look at the sanctuary of the ocean, he turned and doggedly retraced his steps back toward the cottage and the woman he loved so desperately; the woman who so needed the help and support that he was determined to give her even if it killed him. Because if after all she'd gone through, he couldn't help her now…then what would be the point?
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Severus Snape sat by his sitting room fire in his shirtsleeves and drank. He was on his third or was it his fourth glass of brandy. What did it matter anyway? He had every intention of emptying the bottle, then maybe another one or two. Whatever it took to stop the pain and the visions of Evangeline that haunted every place he turned his glance.
His confrontation with Lupin and Evangeline replayed over and over in his mind until he thought he might scream. The pain in her eyes when he'd rejected her cut into him like a knife. Damn his temper, anyway! It really wasn't her fault that she'd turned to someone else for comfort. She thought he was dead, after all. He hadn't been there for her when she'd needed him. Damn it! His actions had led to her losing their child. Almost losing her life. How would he have felt to have come back only to find her buried next to their daughter? Coming back to one grave was painful enough…but two? Hers? No!
He passed a trembling hand over his eyes. That thought was too horrible to contemplate. Yet the first chance he'd gotten, he'd hurt her once more. Perhaps Filch was right. Perhaps pride was too expensive an emotion to have. Yet, being the person he was, could he possibly get past seeing Evangeline making love to Remus Lupin? Just thinking about it made his blood boil all over again. Anger and jealousy spun their web through his mind in an instant, ensnaring his thoughts. She was his wife, damn it! His! Not Lupin's! The werewolf had no right to touch her! No right at all!!
Suddenly he brought his closed fist down angrily on the arm of his chair, where he stared at it in mute frustration. Expending a shaky breath, he forced himself to relax and open his clenched fist. He gazed at the pale empty palm of his hand as it lay there trembling slightly, then he raised it to his head and raked his long slender fingers through his ragged hair trying to calm himself and let him think rationally once more.
If he was honest, and there really wasn't any point in lying to himself now was there, Evangeline was probably better off with Lupin than she ever had been with him, as much as it pained him to admit it. The Gryffindor wizard couldn't help but take better care of her than he had. Lupin was nothing if not insufferably kind and thoughtful. He loved her too…had for a very long time. He'd treat her the way she deserved to be treated like something precious and valued. After spending time with Lupin why on earth would she want to return to him…and his temper and his moods and his abuse? He knew he didn't deserve her. Over and over again he'd tried to protect her only to fail to live up to his promises. She'd suffered so much pain since she'd been involved with him. If he wasn't letting someone else hurt her, he was doing it himself. No, he didn't deserve her love, and she didn't deserve the pain he was always causing her. Today was just the latest in a long string of shameful incidents.
Throwing back his head, he downed the rest of his liquor and got up to get more from the open bottle on the desk. Grasping its slender neck in his hand, he upended it over the glass…the liquid inside dribbled out and pooled halfway up the inside. He made a noise of disgust, set the empty bottle down carelessly on the desktop, and bent down to retrieve a fresh one from the open box that lay the closest to hand. He really didn't have the heart to unpack anything else tonight. What was the rush anyway? There were nothing but empty hours to try to fill for the foreseeable future. Long, lonely, empty days…and nights. Oh, yes, the future looked bright indeed. So much joy to look forward to!
Suddenly restless, he began to prowl the confines of his room like a caged animal. Having spent so much time in a cell over this last year, he now found it difficult to sit still in contemplation as he used to do so easily. The walls felt like they were closing in. Yet if he left his rooms and prowled the castle corridors as he'd done in the past when sleep eluded him, he'd run the risk of coming face to face with some other well-meaning busybody who'd just have to stick their nose into his business one more time. No…it wasn't worth the risk. Once more he was a prisoner…this time within his own rooms.
He smiled ironically, "Well, at least the heating works and the rats have taken up residence elsewhere. Small things to be thankful for."
Griping his glass tightly, heedless of sloshing liquor, he wandered into the bedroom and on into the bathroom where he looked into his mirror and stared at his haggard reflection in disgust. What a mess. Thank the gods that he'd always insisted on having a mirror that wasn't enchanted. The last thing he needed at the moment was some uppity piece of glass commenting on his appearance. He swallowed more of the brandy and then put the glass down on the countertop. Slowly and deliberately he began to unbutton his shirt. Once it was undone, he spread the two halves apart and stared at the scars that twined across his chest in unending horrific patterns. Thick, thin, red, pink, white, purple…there wasn't an inch of unmarked skin to be seen anywhere.
He shivered at the sight, remembering in excruciating detail just how each mark had been made…how it had felt…the pain…the blood…the emptiness. He closed his eyes and tried to push the horrific images away. Wishing with all his strength that when his memories had returned…that these particular little horrors had somehow been left behind to dwell forever in oblivion. But of course, that would be asking far too much. He never got that lucky. Instead, next to the vision of Evangeline's face…these images were the clearest things his abused mind possessed. With the slightest provocation, they'd begin to flash through his mind like a set of animated pictures that one might take of one's holiday and project in the Great Hall for the enjoyment of all. The only thing that made it bearable was that he was the only one to see them…the only one to know.
Reluctantly he confronted the question that burned deepest in his troubled mind. What would Evangeline think if she ever saw what was left of him now that Voldemort's pet torturer was through with him? Probably she'd run away in horror at the sight. Thank god he'd come to his senses before she saw him like this. It would have to sicken her…it sickened him. Though, it completed his personal portrait in some ways…damaged inside and out, nothing left worth keeping anymore…if there ever had been. No, his Angel deserved so much better. He couldn't face the pity…the rejection in her eyes if she ever saw what was hidden under his robes now. The current situation was painful for her at the moment and he was sorry about that, but in the long run dissolving the marriage was the right thing to do. How had he ever been so arrogant as to think that he could have a normal life anyway? A wife…a child. No…that sort of life wasn't for such as he, especially not now. He could offer her nothing of value any more…absolutely nothing. Dread prickled at his mind. Was that really as true as he feared?
He had to know the truth. Resolutely, he reached out with his thoughts and brought up the face and form of his beloved wife in his mind's eye. He let his inner vision linger yearningly on her beauty, her warm smile, her glowing hair, her full breasts, her soft lips, the enticing smell of her, the delicious taste of her…as he concentrated deliberately on these physical qualities, a vivid and intense wave of desire washed across his mind. This wave brought with it an answering pull deep within him and a physical swell of sexual need coursed through his loins bringing the long familiar hardening sensation to his most intimate parts. A sharp extremely uncomfortable pulling and a deep twinge of pain now accompanied the intimate and once greatly enjoyable feeling. The pain elongated into a burning sensation as muscles strained to move into positions no longer allowed them. Abruptly he gasped and pulled his thoughts sharply back away from Evangeline, rubbing a hand across his groin to try to sooth the pulsing ache that now was all that remained of his pitiful attempt at arousal. With a shaky sigh he damped the pain down and forced himself to face his deepest fear. He couldn't deny it any longer. There was no way he could ever make love to her now. Not in his present physical condition. Just one more unshakable fact to add to the growing pile that proved she was better off with Lupin than with him.
He clutched at the edge of the counter with his hands and bowed his head letting his dark hair curtain his face as he finally admitted his inadequacy to himself. Trembling, he reached out and picked up his glass and downed the remaining brandy in one desperate gulp. As the liquor burned a path down the inside of his constricted throat he suddenly was overwhelmed with a burst of frustrated anger at the unfairness, the cruelty, the bitter shame of his current situation. Tightening his grip on the glass he flung it savagely across the room to hear it shatter loudly against the wall, the pieces falling like glittering stars into the porcelain tub that he'd once shared so pleasantly with Evangeline. As images of her came once more to mind, he gasped and turned away from the bathtub, only to again catch sight of his mutilated body in the unforgiving mirror above the sink.
Suddenly horrified and overwhelmed by it all, he abruptly backed up hard against the wall and slid down its smooth surface to sit on the cold tiled floor running his hands deeply through his hair, tearing at it viciously as tears that he simply couldn't hold back any longer flowed hotly down his cheeks. No longer caring to contain his pain he let his head drop between his knees and began to cry in hard wrenching sobs that shook his thin frame unmercifully. Abandoning himself to the depth of his grief, he wept, as he'd never done before in his entire life until there was nothing left within him but emptiness. All other feelings had been washed away in the purging of his soul. He sat huddled on the floor of his bathroom for a long time until conscious thought returned to his mind and reclaimed it's rightful dominance over baser emotion.
Feeling weak and washed out as if recovering from illness…or torture…he pulled himself to his feet once more and staggered out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom again. Fate always has a way of balancing the scales. In a foolish moment of hubris he'd thought that he could escape his past and have some happiness with her, but life managed to once more put him in his proper place. This time he wouldn't fight it. Why should he? It would only mean more pain. In a lethargic haze he made his way back into the sitting room and with some effort managed to unearth another glass from amongst his belongings, which he wasted no time filling almost to overflowing. When he was fortified once more with his own brand of pain medication, he resumed his seat by the fire. Dazedly he stared into the snapping mesmerizing flames as they jumped and flickered in hypnotic patterns while the wood within crumbled to ash and spit red sparks into the air. His eyes were blind to what they stared at; his vision was turned mercilessly inward as his exhausted mind, despite all he'd done to deaden it, sped with lightning swiftness from painful image to painful thought, over and over again. How unbearably ironic that he'd spent such a long time wishing desperately to be able to remember when now all he wanted to do was forget.
Lethe's peace wasn't possible for him, though. There were some things that were too important to be forgotten. He simply couldn't allow himself to forget that once more he'd failed miserably, and he needed to do something about it…as soon as possible. Now that Voldemort had gotten his hands on that book that Malfoy had obtained for him, he was obviously getting more interested than ever in Ernias Winthrop's research. If that monster got his hands on information about Evangeline's mother's creation, then he'd be even more eager to get his hands on Evangeline herself. To dissect her or to use her as a guinea pig as he sought to build his own army of people capable of moving through the painted realm.
Just the thought of what Evangeline would suffer if the Dark Lord ever got his hands on her caused his pulse to race with fear. If that ever happened…if he ever…let…that happen, he wouldn't deserve to live. No…he'd done her enough harm…caused her enough pain.
Then there was the horrible chance that there might be something in Winthrop's research that would help move the Dark Lord closer to his ultimate goal of immortality. If there was another soul on this earth who deserved less to be immortal, he couldn't think of who that would be.
Snape shivered despite the warm fire and all the liquor he'd consumed. He had to talk to Albus in the morning; find out what he'd discovered when he'd had Evangeline's house searched. They needed to get their hands on that research before Voldemort did. It was the only way to foil that creature and to keep Evangeline safe. And that would always be his number one concern…no matter what! For if he couldn't keep her safe…then what would be the point?
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Author's Notes: Thank you Ballisticgirl for reminding me of that wonderfully poetic line! :) And thank you all so much for responding and caring about the story!
Elbereth94: I'm sorry that you think that Snape is overreacting. He's been tortured and imprisoned for more than a year. When he returns to his wife he finds her in the arms of someone whom he hated for years. I think it'll take a little time for that not to hurt. Remember too that although it's been 4 chapters and an equivalent number of weeks for us, all this has happened in the same day for Snape. I think he's actually coming around quite quickly for someone who can hold grudges as well as he can. :)
Milee: I'm sorry. This story is a tearjerker. I'd keep the Kleenex handy.
Troy08: Welcome back! I'm glad to know that you're still reading. This one is rather angsty, but things will resolve…you'll see. I'm sorry to hear that you had computer problems, but I'm glad they're in the past.
Sage and Snape: No, there won't be a terribly quick and easy solution. Snape has too many mental roadblocks…Remus, his guilt over his daughter's death and Evangeline's suffering, his physical disabilities, and his fear of Evangeline's rejection if she finds out about them. He's going to need something to remind him what's really important. I'm glad you liked the bit with Harry. He shows up one more time.
ProphetDreams: Thank you. I'm really pleased that you can picture things so well.
Snapefan51: They might indeed. Snape has reached the end of his rope as far as well meaning meddling is concerned. He is indeed a tortured soul…in far too many ways.
Gracelynn: No, Snape's had too much practice sneering. It's like riding a bicycle. It comes right back to you as soon as you try it again. :)
Rickfan37: Snape's feelings are rather confused at the moment. He tries to sort them out in this chapter, but no matter how he considers things, he always comes back to the conclusion that Evangeline will be better off without him.
Manic: I do not believe that Remus is a danger outside the period of the full moon. If more casual contact with werewolves could pass on the taint then wizarding society would be even harsher on them. Ah, but you see Evangeline did take Remus into her bed with only the hope of loving him…a mistake that she now realizes was a huge one. The others aren't really guilty of anymore than wanting Evangeline to be happy and believing that Severus was dead. Albus didn't force Severus to go after that book, although it was his idea and he should share the guilt for the result. Snape has hit rock bottom emotionally now, but he's still hanging in there. If there's one thing he's good at, it's burying his pain and soldiering on.
Lina Lupin: Good point. They don't know that Evangeline hasn't come to love Remus. Minerva is a bit more up on the status of their relationship, though, because both Remus and Evangeline have confided in her. Dumbledore and Filch only know how deeply she loved Severus and can't imagine that that has changed.
Zagzagael: Thank you. The scales need to tip a tiny bit more before they begin to balance. There's usually a lot of back and forth before true balance is achieved.
Whale of the World: Snape is a stubborn man. If he's pushed he'll push back. Unfortunately he'll sometimes do it as an automatic reaction without stopping to think about it.
Jasara: Thanks. It certainly can feel strange to see something familiar look so different.
Arachne's Child: Thank you. You're right, of course. Poor Severus has had no time to let it all sink in…until now. If you found last chapter heartbreaking, this one must have been worse now that he's had a chance to test out his fears as best he can and found them to be bitter reality. Sorry.
Werecat99: Always nice to have Gingerhead's approval, I certainly wouldn't want to get on his bad side…uh, he does have a good side, doesn't he? :) It may be insulting to think that Evangeline made love to Remus to get over Snape, but it's basically true. She was desperate to get past her pain and try to move on with her life. Don't forget that Remus knew this and didn't care. He wanted her any way he could get her, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He wore her down, and she gave in. Now of course she's desperately sorry, and Remus is left worse off than before. The way out is for Evangeline and Severus to get their heads out of their guilt and pain and focus on what's really important, and for Remus to finally let go and truly begin to look forward…not back.
P. Veronica Tyler: I'm sorry that the story is getting too sad for you. I am pleased that I've made you really care about the characters, though. You'll just have to trust me for a little bit longer. :)