The first full moon after Sirius fell behind the veil, Remus Lupin did not
take his Wolfsbane potion.
Dusk was approaching rapidly. As Remus stole across the Hogwarts grounds, he imagined Snape knocking curtly on his door at Grimmauld Place, bearing the foul tasting potion in a heavy goblet. He could picture the flicker of annoyance that would cross the other man's face when there was no response. Remus expected Snape would open the door then, and guessed that the annoyed sneer would most likely give way to a mixture of anger and alarm when he found the chambers empty. No doubt he would go straight to Dumbledore.
But even that thought barely registered as he reached the base of the Whomping Willow. Remus pressed the knot to open the passage and entered swiftly, deftly dodging the blows of the angry tree. The passage filled his nose with the smell of earth, but as he made his way toward the Shrieking Shack his heightened senses began to pick up the scent he sought.
"Padfoot," he breathed, scarcely noticing that he had said the word aloud.
The Shrieking Shack was exactly how they had left it that disastrous night two years earlier. Only the ever thicker layer of dust that had settled upon every surface attested to the passage of time. Making his way to the small bedroom, Remus ignored the mixed scents of fear, blood, and old magic that hung in the air, in favor of the deeper musky odor that permeated his being and filled his mind with memory. Aching sorrow surged through him as he remembered all the things that once were and would never be again.
When the pale moon rose, Remus welcomed the pain that contorted his limbs and released his mind.
The wolf was not kind. Tooth and nail testified to the maelstrom of emotions that calm, mild-mannered, even-headed Remus Lupin could not or would not show. The howls that came from the Shrieking Shack that night were enough to spur an entire new generation of ghost stories.
When dawn finally broke and banished his lupine form along with the last rays of the moon, Remus crawled aching into the dusty four-poster bed. He curled his arms around the pillow that smelled so strongly of Sirius, and fell into an exhausted sleep as silent tears carved clear rivulets down his dirty cheeks.
Remus awoke some hours later, surprised to find himself tucked into his own bed. Flinching from his self-inflicted injuries, he sat up carefully and inspected his bandaged arms. But who had-? Remus' eyes widened as he glanced over and found his answer.
Snape was sitting in a chair several feet from the bed, arms crossed across his chest and staring intently at him with glittering black eyes.
"That was an incredibly stupid and reckless thing you did." Snape's low voice was deathly quiet. His thin lips barely moved and Remus could not read the expression on his impassive face.
Remus stared back at him for a beat, unsure of what to say. "I expect Dumbledore will wish to speak to me," he finally stated calmly.
Snape arched a dark eyebrow. "Regarding what, precisely?"
Remus searched Snape's face suspiciously for some sign of mockery. Seeing none, his brow furrowed in confusion. "He doesn't know?"
Snape did not respond aside from a slight pursing of his lips as he settled back against the chair. Remus took this as a sign of assent, which only served to compound his bewilderment. They sat in silence for several moments. Remus stared down at his hands, picking absently at the cotton that covered what felt like a particularly nasty gash. Finally he looked up into the other man's face. "How did you know?" he asked softly.
"Lupin, I may be many things, but I am neither stupid nor completely oblivious to the power that emotions can wield. You are not the only one who has ever experienced pain." There was condescension in his tone, but it lacked its usual bite. Gesturing toward the bedside table, Snape continued, "There are fresh bandages and an antiseptic. I suggest you utilize them if you wish to prevent infection." The Potions Master stood and made his way across the room to the door.
"Severus-"
Snape paused in the doorway, turning back to look at Remus.
"Thank you."
Snape stared at him for a moment before nodding slightly. "I'll bring your dose by this evening. I trust you won't inconvenience me by making me wait?"
Remus nodded silently, refusing to tear his eyes from the other man's gaze. With a curt decline of the head, Snape swept out of the room, leaving Remus to nurse his wounds.
Dusk was approaching rapidly. As Remus stole across the Hogwarts grounds, he imagined Snape knocking curtly on his door at Grimmauld Place, bearing the foul tasting potion in a heavy goblet. He could picture the flicker of annoyance that would cross the other man's face when there was no response. Remus expected Snape would open the door then, and guessed that the annoyed sneer would most likely give way to a mixture of anger and alarm when he found the chambers empty. No doubt he would go straight to Dumbledore.
But even that thought barely registered as he reached the base of the Whomping Willow. Remus pressed the knot to open the passage and entered swiftly, deftly dodging the blows of the angry tree. The passage filled his nose with the smell of earth, but as he made his way toward the Shrieking Shack his heightened senses began to pick up the scent he sought.
"Padfoot," he breathed, scarcely noticing that he had said the word aloud.
The Shrieking Shack was exactly how they had left it that disastrous night two years earlier. Only the ever thicker layer of dust that had settled upon every surface attested to the passage of time. Making his way to the small bedroom, Remus ignored the mixed scents of fear, blood, and old magic that hung in the air, in favor of the deeper musky odor that permeated his being and filled his mind with memory. Aching sorrow surged through him as he remembered all the things that once were and would never be again.
When the pale moon rose, Remus welcomed the pain that contorted his limbs and released his mind.
The wolf was not kind. Tooth and nail testified to the maelstrom of emotions that calm, mild-mannered, even-headed Remus Lupin could not or would not show. The howls that came from the Shrieking Shack that night were enough to spur an entire new generation of ghost stories.
When dawn finally broke and banished his lupine form along with the last rays of the moon, Remus crawled aching into the dusty four-poster bed. He curled his arms around the pillow that smelled so strongly of Sirius, and fell into an exhausted sleep as silent tears carved clear rivulets down his dirty cheeks.
Remus awoke some hours later, surprised to find himself tucked into his own bed. Flinching from his self-inflicted injuries, he sat up carefully and inspected his bandaged arms. But who had-? Remus' eyes widened as he glanced over and found his answer.
Snape was sitting in a chair several feet from the bed, arms crossed across his chest and staring intently at him with glittering black eyes.
"That was an incredibly stupid and reckless thing you did." Snape's low voice was deathly quiet. His thin lips barely moved and Remus could not read the expression on his impassive face.
Remus stared back at him for a beat, unsure of what to say. "I expect Dumbledore will wish to speak to me," he finally stated calmly.
Snape arched a dark eyebrow. "Regarding what, precisely?"
Remus searched Snape's face suspiciously for some sign of mockery. Seeing none, his brow furrowed in confusion. "He doesn't know?"
Snape did not respond aside from a slight pursing of his lips as he settled back against the chair. Remus took this as a sign of assent, which only served to compound his bewilderment. They sat in silence for several moments. Remus stared down at his hands, picking absently at the cotton that covered what felt like a particularly nasty gash. Finally he looked up into the other man's face. "How did you know?" he asked softly.
"Lupin, I may be many things, but I am neither stupid nor completely oblivious to the power that emotions can wield. You are not the only one who has ever experienced pain." There was condescension in his tone, but it lacked its usual bite. Gesturing toward the bedside table, Snape continued, "There are fresh bandages and an antiseptic. I suggest you utilize them if you wish to prevent infection." The Potions Master stood and made his way across the room to the door.
"Severus-"
Snape paused in the doorway, turning back to look at Remus.
"Thank you."
Snape stared at him for a moment before nodding slightly. "I'll bring your dose by this evening. I trust you won't inconvenience me by making me wait?"
Remus nodded silently, refusing to tear his eyes from the other man's gaze. With a curt decline of the head, Snape swept out of the room, leaving Remus to nurse his wounds.
