A/n: See Pt. 1 for disclaimer and warnings. And responses to reviews at the end of the story.
He was on a boat. Or rather, they were on a boat. A few short minutes after his "episode" in the Great Hall, the Headmaster had summoned him from his class room, told him to pack his bags, and placed him in the custody of Remus Lupin. It was only as he was considering his bookshelves, searching for something that he'd read often enough that the plot would not be destroyed by his drifting attention, that he realized exactly what he had admitted to. In front of everyone. Laughing to himself, he had to agree with Dumbledore's decision to send someone along as chaperone. But Lupin? He couldn't understand what the man was doing here, other than depriving the students of yet another professor. And what would Voldemort say when he found out that Severus had a travel companion? Maybe he could make up some story about research at Tintagel, looking for some text on Merlin or some such rubbish…
But they weren't going to Cornwall. They were on a boat. To Lundy Island, which is nearer Devonshire. But Severus had said he wanted something warmer, and Lundy, windswept though it was, was farther south than Hogwarts and had the added benefit of being isolated, easier to secure. Minerva apparently had a Muggle friend who kept one of the 3-mile-long island's lighthouses, and he was more than willing to surrender his post, and house, for a few weeks' vacation and a train ticket to Bristol. Dumbledore had sent Arthur Weasley ahead to establish security wards, which was why Severus and Lupin were on a boat.
"Severus?" Lupin asked, interrupting Severus's staring into the distance, back at the shrinking white dot that was Hartland Point, on the mainland.
"Hmm?" Severus intoned.
"We're here," Lupin answered.
"Mm."
"Severus?"
"For God's…what?" Severus snapped. The whole trip so far had been "Severus?" "Severus?" "Severus?" He was beginning to hate his name even more, which he hadn't thought possible. Maybe, after he figured out a potion that would give him fingerprints, he could devise one that would give him a new name. A new face. A body that hasn't been beaten. Or raped. Or branded. And maybe Voldemort would stop calling him, and Albus would stop caring, and he could just float off to sea, a shrinking black dot that no one would watch as it disappeared into the horizon.
"We're here," Lupin repeated.
"I know, Remus, I heard you the first time. Are we in a hurry?"
"No," Remus answered, smiling. Severus wanted to smack the smile off, but he couldn't understand why. He quite liked it, Remus's smile. It was almost always pained, and that was something Severus understood very well. And besides, he'd put a fraction of that pain there, long ago. In a different life.
"Then let me stand here and look around for a moment, will you? If you're bored, you could see to our luggage."
"Yes master," Remus snorted good-naturedly.
"Don't," Severus hissed.
"I'm sorry. I apologize," Remus whispered, realizing what he had said.
"You're sorry and you apologize?" Severus sneered.
"Yes. Just to show you I mean it," Remus answered before retreating into the cabin where he had left their bags.
Severus watched him go before disembarking from the boat. It was a novel way of traveling, but Severus preferred to have his feet firmly on the ground. It was mildly amusing to see the worry on Lupin's face as the werewolf searched for him in the crowd. As if he could have killed himself properly in two minutes. Without a wand, which Dumbledore had politely confiscated, for "safe keeping", as he put it.
"Over here!" Severus yelled, waving his hand in the air, though the shout was enough to draw Lupin's attention.
"I thought you wanted to look around?" Remus asked when he reached the other man.
"I am. Looking at the boat as we speak. Don't you want to shrink those bags?"
"No, we're meant to look like Muggle tourists. Come on, I think it's time we had something to eat."
The lighthouse looked decades old, but the interior was well-kept. It was obvious that a family lived here, their lives framed on the walls, held with magnets to the refrigerator. Cushions on chairs and sofas were worn, a light sheen on the wooden furniture spoke of a thoughtful woman polishing her house for her guests. There were two bedrooms, but Remus would have to enlarge the mattress in the child's room if one of them was meant to sleep on it. The light itself was relatively new, electric. It did not really need monitoring, and Severus was initially puzzled as to why the lighthouse needed a keeper at all, until he scrutinized the picture on the wall and discovered that it was a family business of sorts.
"Severus?"
Remus had quietly watched his companion take in his surroundings calmly, while he set their things down in the hall way and went about making tea and laying out a few scones and strawberry preserves, Severus's favorite. He became concerned when Severus had paused in front a portrait of a large family standing in front of the lighthouse. Severus's eyes had swept over the faces and then shut tightly, his hand rising slowly to rest on the wall beside the frame's edge, as if he was steadying himself. Poppy had warned him of various indicators of pain, shock, and emotional breakdown, as if he was ignorant of those things. As much as he knew it irritated the generally closed-off man to be cared for and worried after, Remus couldn't suppress his concern. Not after that confession in the Great Hall, and not after decades of habit.
"If you say my name like that one more time, Lupin, I swear to God I'll hex you," Severus answered, his voice a mockery of accommodation.
"I only wanted to tell you that the tea is ready," Remus lied.
"Then say, 'The tea is ready.' It's direct, simple, and does not remind me of…just don't say my name. I don't want…" he trailed off, trying to remember what he had been thinking of earlier, looking at the family portrait. Oh yes, tradition. He'd been a victim of tradition as well, but unlike the owner of this house, who had the noble charge of keeping light, Severus had been ordered into darkness itself. He was damned at birth, it seemed.
"The tea is ready," Remus said quietly, touching Severus's shoulder to drag him away from his memories.
"You know that if I don't snap out of this, I can't ever go back," Severus said, sitting down to tea.
"Would it be so bad?" Remus asked, honestly curious.
"Yes. I am of some use, you know," Severus answered curtly.
"I meant on the personal level, for you. Do you want to go back?"
"I…some days, I enjoy what I do. The teaching, I mean. The other, it's not a choice I can make. But teaching, I would miss that. The good days."
"Not the Neville Longbottoms though, correct?" Remus smiled.
"No, Longbottom is a good sort. And he's improved, vastly after the end of his fifth year. He's no longer afraid of me, and that helps immensely in the class room."
"I'm glad to hear it," Remus answered.
"Do you enjoy teaching?" Severus asked.
"I enjoy the normality of having a job," Remus answered.
"But not the actual work?"
"I don't enjoy the necessity of it. But of course, it's always gratifying when a student excels, and I like being popular with most of the houses, even when they know what I am. I haven't had this level of acceptance in quite some time."
"And you like being closer to Potter," Severus added.
"Well, yes," Remus answered awkwardly, though he wasn't sure of the source of his discomfort. "Harry is a remarkable young man. I'm glad to know him, and I can't help but feel that he needs me around. Because of my link to his parents, and to Sirius."
"You don't think he needs you for yourself?"
"I wouldn't say that. I think he appreciates that I care for him unconditionally, and not as The Boy Who Lived or even as James' and Lily's son. And we get along well. But not a day goes by that he doesn't ask me what I think Sirius would say or do, or what his father would say or do in a given situation. I'm like a living reference work on the people he really loves."
"You deserve more," Severus commented quietly, staring into his teacup.
"I'm grateful for what I have."
"No!" Severus snapped. "You aren't simply the leftovers of a wonderful, destroyed thing. You deserve better!"
"So do you," Remus whispered, shocked by Severus's vehemence, when the man had made it a point not to care for him before his life had gone to hell.
"I'm tired. The boat ride upset my balance," Severus sighed.
"Go, rest. Take the master bedroom. I'll work on enlarging the other bed."
A/N 2:
Ilmare2: Thanks for the review. Yes, it seems angst is my specialty. Not sure why…Anyhoo, I'll try to update as frequently as possible. And to always be one chapter ahead of myself, if that makes sense. We'll see how this turns out, I'm not used to SS/RL combos.
Barbara Kennedy: Don't worry, Severus will get better, if only for the fact that I can't sustain "crazy!Snape" for too long without jeopardizing my mental health, not to mention the quality of this story.
Caliowiel: Thanks!
Blah blah blah: Yes, yes it does have to be SS/RL. If it's just that pairing you're objecting to, I can see where you're coming from, since I generally only read fics pairing Harry with Snape (older Harry, that is) and Fabula Rasa's SS/SB stories, which are wonderful. But I wanted Remus this time, so here he is. If it's slash in general you don't like, well…this won't be a story for you.
Dina: Thanks for reviewing. Your concerns are valid, but I don't think that Severus was being careless with his secrets when he made that little scene, or at least deliberately careless. I made a point to make him speak softly and only Dumbledore, Minerva, Flitwick and Remus heard him. As to the aspect of him being too private a person to admit to what happened to him, you're absolutely right. Normally, he wouldn't go about telling anyone such things, and the fact that he did so is a mark of how these events have effected him. I don't think it's particularly out of character for him to have an extreme reaction to repeated torture, though I can't imagine J.K. Rowling consigning him to the loony bin any time soon. No matter how controlled and closed-off he seems most of the time in the books, he frequently has outbursts of rage, indignation, etc. (see POA, the Shrieking Shack scene). The one aspect of Rowling's Snape that I usually fail/refuse to capture is his pettiness. But back to the point, her Snape, while reserved, is obviously an emotional man, and by extension, my Snape has been driven into an extreme emotional state by trauma. Sorry for the treatise, but I hope it makes my story seem a little more plausible. If not, I hope you can just file this under Alternate Universe and enjoy just the same.
