He awoke early the following morning to the sound of the howling wind battering rain against the slightly open window. Climbing out of bed, Snape shivered slightly as the cool breeze chilled his naked body, causing tiny goose pimples to rise all over. Padding softly, he quickly moved to close it, finding himself unpleasantly splashed with icy cold droplets of rain as they were blown through the opening in the process.
It wasn't quite dark outside, rather, that moment where everything was more dark blue than the black of night. The sun had not yet risen above horizon and inflicted its harsh brightness upon the slumbering world, although Snape often thought that he could smell its arrival as surely as the breakfast cooking in the kitchens. It was now that Severus felt most at ease. The castle was still echoing with the sounds of the gentle snoring coming from the paintings that lined the corridors, and there were no bothersome children creeping among the shadows, trying to move throughout the castle undetected by Flich and Mrs Norris. He could be alone with his thoughts, and Severus Snape had a great many thoughts to be alone with.
He showered quickly and removed a fresh set of robes from his wardrobe, leaving a line of identical ones hanging immaculately on the rail. Snape was very much a creature of habit. Every morning he would rise before the dawn and walk the dark, deserted corridors of the castle, arriving moments later at his office where he would sit and mark the tedious and sloppy assignments that had been handed in. Occasionally he would encounter Peeves on his way; who would sing a song and blow raspberries at him before moving along. How Snape wished that Dumbledore would do something about that poltergeist, he really was most infuriating. Naturally, Snape could think of a number of things he would rather enjoy doing himself, but Dumbledore would never allow it.
Today had been no different. He had taken no less than ten steps when the apparition in all its Technicolor glory, came speeding down the corridor towards him, howling and screaming and making enough noise to have several of the portraits wake up and shout at the spirit to silence itself. Peeves merely laughed at them before coming to a stop beside Snape and bursting into song.
"Silly old Professor Snape has never even had a date.
His hair so dark and thick and greasy, it made all the girls so sick and queasy."
Glaring at Peeves, Snape drew his wand. "On your way Peeves."
Cackling in response, Peeves circled Snape. "Why would I want to do that? You can't touch me, Dumbleydore won't allow it."
A smirk spreading over his lips, only barely concealing the anger that had begun to rise deep within him, Snape spoke softly. "Because if you don't, I shall summon the Bloody Baron. I am sure he would be most happy to help a Professor of this school in ridding himself of a nuisance."
Its movement slowing, Peeves came to a halt in front of Snape, edging closer so that had its face been corporeal it would have certainly touched Snape's own. It hovered there for a moment, and Snape resisted the strong urge to growl at it and storm off, knowing that to do so would only provoke the poltergeist more. Snape hated wasting time, and as he stood there the thousand and one other things he could be doing flashed through his mind with blinding speed, until finally, with one parting raspberry Peeves spun and began to hurl back down the corridor making as much noise as had heralded its arrival.
Snape remained rooted to the spot. Taking a few deep, calming breaths, he willed the rage that was bubbling silently below the surface to subside before it gave him a worse headache than Peeves had already initiated. Tucking his wand back into this robes, he continued on his way towards his Office, arriving only a few moments later. Waving his hand, he countered the many sealing charms that protected the room. It was often thought that Snape's Office was one of the most protected rooms in all of Hogwarts, possible exceptions being perhaps the chamber where the Philosopher's Stone lay hidden a few years previously and the Chamber of Secrets that had lain undiscovered since Salazar Slytherin's departure from the school.
Waving his wand at the candlesticks as he swept past them, the room became aglow with the soft, golden light that emanated from them. The air was thick and heavy, and to anyone other than Snape it would probably seem somewhat suffocating, however he was accustomed to the atmosphere, and it suited him quite well. Settling down into his chair, he unlocked the upper most drawer in his desk and removed the pile of assignments that he had to mark.
Half an hour had passed as his beetle black eyes scanned the pieces of parchment, the pile growing ever lower. The silence was only punctuated by the scratching of his quill as he scribbled corrections and comments, before finally it fell silent and was laid upon the desk. Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger, he stretched his legs and relaxed back into the hard chair. There was still an hour until breakfast. His marking hadn't taken as long this morning as it usually does, the assignments somewhat shorter than he was accustomed to handing out.
Standing slowly, he decided upon going for a walk. The howling wind and chill of the rain was no deterrent for Snape, often preferring to walk in these conditions as it ensured that he met as few people as possible. Placing the assignments back into the desk and locking it once again, he extinguished the candles as he passed them by, the room gradually growing dimmer as he did so until it was once again filled with the velvety blackness that still took precedence through the rest of the castle.
As he walked the deserted corridors he found his thoughts drifting to the man he had pledged to make his own. With every step he took towards the doors in the Entrance Hall, he found his feet willing him to walk in the opposite direction, a small voice in his head telling him that he would only visit for a moment. Surrendering to the allure, he hurried quickly up the flights of stone stairs, arriving outside the Dark Arts Professors office a few moments later, panting slightly, a thin film of sweat causing his brow to glisten.
Placing his hand upon the door, he gently positioned his ear next to it, checking for any signs of movement from within. Upon hearing none, he slowly moved his hand to the knob and turned it gently, careful to make as little noise as possible. It squeaked as he turned it, a sound that to him was deafening although he knew that it only appeared so due to the silence that surrounded him. Pausing briefly, he placed his ear against the door once again to ensure that the disturbance hadn't reached the chambers within and cause Lupin to rise. Satisfied that it hadn't, he pushed the door open, and peered around its edge.
The room beyond was still cloaked in darkness, the only sign of life coming from the gentle lopping of water as the Grindylow moved about within the confines of its tank. Edging in, he carefully closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar, and pulled out his wand. "Lumos" he muttered, silently moving towards the front of the room.
The light radiating from the tip of his wand cast a ghostly silver glow around him, the sudden brightness causing dark spots to dance in front of his eyes for several moments before they finally adjusted to the light. He was certain that the glare would be insufficient to disturb Lupin, the door to his private chambers still closed.
Snape felt his pulse quicken, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he thought of the man who lay just beyond the door, tantalizingly close and yet still so far from reach. In his mind's eye he could see him lying there, sheets at his waist revealing a torso that Snape longed to run his hands over, heaving slightly as his breathing grew deeper and slower. His is face peaceful and serene as dreams visited him, Snape saw himself stretching out his hand and running it through the mass of ruffled greying hair, stroking it soothingly. One day he thought.
On reaching Lupin's desk, Snape slowly ran a hand over it. It contained no traces of the litter that had covered it last evening; the house elves had already been and tidied. Nevertheless, books were lay open upon the desk where Lupin had left them, and judging from the looks of the creatures staring back it him off of the pages, he had been researching items for inclusion in his class when he had abandoned them for sleep.
Moving to the chair which had long since become cool after the warmth that it had gained from Lupin's use, he perched himself on its edge, enjoying the feeling of the smooth wood as it glided beneath his fingertips. He recalled the last time he had seen Lupin sitting in this very spot. He had been holding the picture frame that was sitting across from him now, sadness and longing on his face. Reaching out, Snape picked up the photo and gazed at it. He could see the four of them, Lupin, Pettigrew, Potter and Black, smiling back at him. Black was ruffling Lupin's hair as Remus smiled lopsided at the camera while trying to fight Black off.
He wasn't sure how long he sat and looked at the picture. It was hard to tell which emotion was stronger, the intense longing to be that intimate with Lupin, or the anger and frustration that the four friends laughing and enjoying themselves before his eyes had been the cause of much of his own pain during his school days. Perhaps part of Snape still resented Lupin's role in those events. Although he had never directly caused him any harm, he seemed to make no attempt to prevent his friends from doing so either. Yes, Snape had forgiven Lupin for the incident at the Shrieking Shack long ago. It had taken a solemn word from Dumbledore to make him realise that Remus had been just as much a casualty of that incident as he was. Yet, the bitterness refused to truly leave him, Snape finding that he had to be content with burying it deep within the chambers of his heart where he concealed so many things.
He replaced the photograph, standing as he did so. The room was no longer consumed by shadow as the rays of the first light of the morning pierced the darkness. "Nox" he whispered as he made his way towards the door. He longed to stay, to sit by the door, revelling in having Lupin so close, but he knew he would be rising soon. Snape would see him at breakfast, and as he closed the door silently on his retreat, he found himself thinking that breakfast couldn't come soon enough.
