Darkness surrounded the castle, suffocating the final remnants of light that were fighting to cling to their existence with all the valour and strength that they could muster. Such is the way of his world, obscurity enveloping all that is bright; clutching at it and dancing around it like eerie fingers of cloud that pass across a full moon until finally, they grab it in their fist, and the luminosity is no more.
How ironic that he should think of the moon now. There are many ways to look at the moon, numerous ways to perceive it. That majestic silvery orb that presides over its nightly kingdom until it relinquishes its throne to the blazing of the early morning sun. For some it is the perfect depiction of romanticism as they walk across the grounds, their way illuminated by silvers of silvery ribbon bobbing and weaving through the shadows of the forest beyond and the ghostly silhouette of the castle behind them. However, for others the moon brings indescribable torment. Spawning monsters from its innocence, its children roam the lands preying on the innocent while by day they suffer the imaginings of the horrors which they may have committed; atrocities, which had they been able to prevent themselves, they would never have perpetrated.
Slumped against the icy stone interior wall, he observed from his shadowy corner. Shrouded in the thick blackness he lingered there, just like he did every other night. Waiting and observing, like a hunter observes the habits of his prey before carrying out his fatal assault. Patiently he stood with an unwavering eye, until his persistence was rewarded.
It happened so suddenly that someone less meticulous and assiduous may well have missed it, but not him. His unfaltering gaze never strayed from the entrance to the Great Hall until finally he saw the figure of that which he sought after moving easily through the throng of students that were vacating the Hall.
The other was not aware that he was being stalked, that hungry eyes were upon him, drinking in his image greedily like a vulture attacking a fresh carcass. Moving swiftly and easily through the crowd, he began his climb up the stairs to his chambers in blissful ignorance. An involuntary growl escaped from the observer's tightly pursed lips at this thought and he cursed himself for his momentary lack of restraint. There were places he could not follow, and those places were the ones he most longed to go.
Severus Snape was not accustomed to not being able to attain that which he coveted. He was in a powerful position, one where he could fulfil a man's dreams, prolong his life, give him everything he could possibly want, all with the brewing of a potion. There was, however, no potion in the world that would give him what he craved. That which caused his blood to gush through his veins in a thunderous torrent that rang in his ears. For the touch of the man he had lusted after for so long; to have him at his mercy, begging him to do the things his body ached to do, and in turn be reduced to such sweet humility that he would beg for the same until together they would lay, perfectly spent.
The thought was more than he could endure. Straightening, he smoothed his robes which had begun to wrinkle and crease from being pressed against the stone for such an extended period. Taking a few, small, slow steps out of the gloom he prepared himself to join the world in which he felt so uncomfortable, so alien. Schooling his features into a hard glare, he took the final steps with the air of a confidence that he did not feel.
The light dazzling his eyes after the comfortable murkiness of the corner that he had occupied, he strode purposefully towards the giant staircase that was rumbling as its great flights abruptly changed their position leaving the students climbing up them stranded for a few moments. He noted with some pleasure the panic stricken faces of the first years, who had still not grown accustomed to this event, as they grouped together, huddled as though somehow their being surrounded by one another would protect them from the terrible fate of landing on a passageway that was not their destination.
A couple of terrified second years separated to make way for him to walk between them. He paused briefly, looking at them both in such a manner that they were sure he was about to dock points from their house, or worse yet, give them detention, simply because they had the misfortune of being on a same stretch of corridor at the precise moment that he himself happened to be there. Snape revelled in their fear; he loved the feeling of the adrenaline rushing through his veins as the students trembled in his presence. One student he particularly enjoyed tormenting was Neville Longbottom, although he simply needed to be present in the same room as the boy to reduce him to a quivering, stuttering fool unable to string even the most basic of sentences together or carry out the simplest of actions. Not too unlike his normal character really when one thinks about it, Snape thought, feeling slightly put out as he did so.
Casting a glance to the staircase that was just moving towards the second floor corridor, Snape watched as Remus Lupin waited patiently for them to become stationary once more, passing the time by speaking to the group of students who had surrounded him. He was smiling, and he could hear the cheerful tones of his laughter floating on the breeze that moved through the castle, echoing it all around him. What the blazes does he have to be so happy about? A wave of anger flooding over him, he could feel his face twist and contort into a terrifying snarl. The students that were around him began to increase the floor space between themselves and their potions master, as if an invisible barrier had suddenly been put into place around him, preventing anyone from coming within twelve feet of him.
Casting his eyes around him, he felt the need to vent some of his anger. Spying a rather sheepish looking female first year walking towards the staircase, trying to balance a dangerously large pile of books in her arms, Snape called out to her causing her to drop a few as she jumped, startled by his voice. "You! What is the meaning of you walking around unable to see over that pile of books? 10 points from Ravenclaw for being such a walking health hazard and be grateful I don't take a further 5 for you being such a fool." Indeed the pile of books she was carrying was not so high that it even came near to obscuring her vision, but seeing her clear blue eyes begin to sparkle as they began to well up with tears, and her pale cheeks flush under the harshness of his words, Snape felt somewhat alleviated. Smiling his usual sardonic smile, he began to climb the stairs towards the second floor, and the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's Office.
Reaching the door, Snape found it ajar and he could hear Lupin walking about inside humming softly to himself. Closing his eyes, he allowed the sweet sound to flow over him. Lupin had the most engaging voice, sweeter than the honey from the specially bred bees that Hogwarts imported for use in their grand feasts.
After standing there for a few moments, sure that Lupin had not detected his presence, he carefully peered through the crack in the doorway. He watched as Lupin loosened his tie and settled down into his chair, lounging back and lifting his legs to rest them on the tabletop that was strewn with bars of chocolate and wrappings, pieces of parchment, inkbottles, and a single photo frame.
The room quietened as Snape observed Lupin's eyes as they fell upon the photo. Reaching out to pick up the frame, a look of sadness and longing fell over the placid face of the man, adding to his already older than his years appearance. Snape knew of whom the picture was of. They had been such good friends, more like family really, and now Lupin was the only one who remained. Alone once again in a world that despised and feared him, he must have missed his old friends terribly.
It angered Snape, angered him to an extreme that the blood flowing through his veins felt more like the fiery magma thrown forth from the depths of an erupting volcano. He was here, and yet Lupin could not see him. Each day he was there, he took care of him, helped him, and still he was invisible. He may as well have been wearing that loathsome Potter boy's cloak.
Stepping back from the doorway, Snape began to make his way downward once again. He would make Lupin realise. Some way, some how, Snape would make him see, and he would be his. What Severus Snape wanted, Severus Snape got; and his sights were fixed firmly on Remus Lupin.
