"Severus?" The soft voice, accompanied by a gentle touch on his arm brought him to wakefulness and his eyes popped open. Different. Things were different. This wasn't his bed or his bedroom and… His black eyes darted to the head resting on his chest, and then rose to take in his surroundings, and memory came flooding back to him. He was in the middle of the damn Slytherin Common Room with one of his students sleeping practically on top of him, and the voice and hand that had woken him belonged to the Headmaster. Do not incriminate yourself, he ordered himself sternly and began the laborious process of removing himself from beneath Amber Carlisle without waking her. Luckily, Dumbledore seemed intent on the same goal, and between them, they saw her settled back onto the sofa again, no more than a soft sigh interrupting her breathing. Dumbledore conjured a blanket and tucked it neatly around her shoulders and Severus raked a hand through his hair, stretching his misused muscles slowly. He was stiff is a board from the awkward position. A glance at the clock told him it was before dawn and he'd only been asleep three hours at the most, so he felt justified in a yawn.

"I can explain, Headmaster," he mumbled past his hand. If you'll just give me until noon in a nice warm bed.

"No explanation is needed, Severus. Now come."

His mind still protesting having been pulled from the arms of slumber so soon after finding respite, Severus stumbled slightly as he followed Dumbledore out of the Common Room and into the corridor. He yawned again, and rolled his head on his shoulders, trying to stretch the persistent cramp in his neck. Forget your neck, you dunderhead. Be concerned with your job. He couldn't seem to convince his mind to rest on that worry, though. "I just went to the Common Room because I couldn't sleep and…"

Dumbledore laid a hand gently over his arm. "You needn't explain anything to me, Severus. I quite understand. I just thought it best that you not still be in there when the students begin waking."

"Oh." It was the only thing he could think of to say. He yawned once more. "How did you…?"

"Dobby told me," the Headmaster explained dismissively. "He went in to light the fire and he thought the same thing I did—that it would be best if the other students didn't find you there. Regardless of truth or intention, appearance has a way of making us seem less honorable than we are."

Severus nodded sleepily, sure that there was wisdom in those words that he wasn't hearing. "Thank you," he murmured. "What time are we supposed to be at… in London?" he asked, having the presence of mind at least not to mention their location.

"Nine," Dumbledore replied. "Though I will make your excuses. You are going to be in bed, under the effects of a Dreamless Sleep potion."

"No." Severus' eyes opened instantly.

"You're exhausted, Severus, mentally and physically, and exhaustion makes you vulnerable."

Severus struggled against another yawn and nearly won this time. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm not drinking a potion to help me sleep."

For a moment, the Headmaster was silent, and then he sighed. "I should argue with you. I should simply order you to take the potion and be done with it. Or see you to the Hospital wing where I'm sure Poppy could coax it down your throat."

Severus snorted softly. "But you won't."

"No," Dumbledore replied softly. "I won't. Come, my boy."

"Where…?"

Dumbledore frowned slightly at him. "Are you sure you don't want to spend the day asleep, Severus?"

Severus scowled. "Absolutely certain. Why?"

"Because," the Headmaster said softly. "I worry about you when you don't even realize that you're en route to your own quarters."

With a slight start, Severus realized that they'd come to a halt in front of his rooms, and his face darkened slightly. "Maybe I will sleep another hour or two," he muttered.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll send one of the House Elves up with breakfast at eight if you haven't come down before then," he said affably. "Rest well."

Severus let himself into his rooms and headed straight to his bed, not even bothering to undress before he sprawled across it. He closed his eyes, grateful for the soft mattress, but, to his irritated surprise, sleep did not find him. After half an hour of effort, he gave up and was bathed and dressed in a clean robe and sitting at the staff table when breakfast appeared in the Great Hall.

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Severus Flooed into the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place only seconds before Dumbledore did, and he immediately regretted being the first to arrive. He had no sooner stepped onto the grate than Molly bustled up to him, clucking her tongue maternally and shuffling him to the table. Before he could protest, he had a bowl of oatmeal and a plate of bacon in front of him, and was being commanded to eat. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering why he'd been so adamant that he wasn't spending the day in bed, asleep under the influence of a potion.

He hadn't even touched the spoon yet when Remus seated himself across the table from him. "Good morning, Severus," the other man had said cheerily. A bit too cheery to suit Severus' mood, which was dark even for him.

"You got it at least half right," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at Molly, whose back was turned. He wondered briefly if he could get away with a banishing spell on the food so that he wouldn't have to face her indignation when he didn't eat it.

Lupin leaned forward a bit, a grin on his face. "Don't worry, she does that to all of us. And, if you ever get over the insult of being ordered around like a ten-year-old boy again, you'll find she's a very good cook."

"I don't doubt she is," Severus replied neutrally, keeping his voice low. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm not hungry."

Someone settled into the chair at his left, and he glanced over, mentally cringing at the sight of Ron. "Morning, Professor," reaching for an apple from the bowl in the center of the table. "Hey, mum, is there any more bacon?"

As though she'd been waiting for that question as her cue, Molly came to the table with a platter that held enough bacon to feed a small army, by Severus' estimation. Of course, he reasoned as Ron grabbed a fistful of the meat, if all her sons eat as much as Ron does, she probably won't have enough to feed three of them. He watched as Ron added three muffins to his plate, then leaned back so Molly could scrape three fried eggs onto it as well.

His momentary disbelief at the seemingly bottomless pit that was Ronald Weasley's stomach was interrupted, though, as Molly put a plate in front of him, rearranging the bowl and plate that he already had to accommodate the extra dish, then tilted her skillet to scrape eggs onto his plate as well. "Really, Molly," he protested, "I've already eaten."

"Well, it won't hurt you to eat again," she replied, unperturbed. Thankfully, she only put two eggs on his plate, which meant one less would go to waste. "Now," she said, pausing to look at him, "there are plenty more where that came from, so you just tell me if you want more."

He looked at the eggs, then at his bowl of oatmeal, then at the plate of bacon, and thought it rather unlikely that he would want anything else to eat for the rest of the day if he actually succeeded in eating everything she'd put in front of him. "I will," he promised. "Thank you."

"You know," Ron was saying through a mouthful of bacon, "she's going to keep putting things in front of you until you eat, so you might as well give in. And you can pretend to eat the oatmeal for half an hour and then say it was delicious and she'll believe you."

Severus looked at him for a moment, not sure if he was more tempted to laugh at the preposterous suggestion that he pretend to eat, or give the boy a detention for his insolence. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley," he said dryly. "I'll bear that in mind."

Anything else that might have been said was halted, though, as Molly leaned over Severus' shoulder with a frown on her face. "Do you need something, dear?" she asked, looking concerned. "Cinnamon? Honey? Jam?" As she spoke, she set a glass on the table beside him and filled it with milk from a pitcher.

"No," he replied, "Thank you, Molly, I really don't think I need anything…" she put a cup of tea in front of him, and then offered a bowl full of rolls. He took a roll. "Thank you," he insisted. Please, go mother Remus or Harry or… anyone but me.

"Mum, just let him eat, okay? I don't think he's used to people fussing over him." That was Ron again, and Severus honestly could have hugged the boy just then. Could have, but didn't.

For a moment, Molly looked hurt, but then her smile returned and she patted his shoulder. "All right," she agreed. "But if you need anything, you just let me know, or let Ron know, hm?"

"Of course," Severus agreed. Anything to get her to stop fussing. To his immense relief, she bustled back to the other end of the table and began fussing over the twins instead.

"You just have to tell her to go away sometimes," Ron confided. "She takes the whole 'mum' thing a little too seriously, you know?"

Across the table, Lupin had an array of food in front of him that rivaled Severus', but he chuckled good-naturedly. "Ron's right, Severus," he said, casting a look at the end of the table to make sure Molly was preoccupied enough that she wouldn't hear them.

"Just treat her like you would your own mum, and she'll be happier." This came from Ron again, who was poised to take a bite of his apple that, from the gaping of his mouth, would likely consume half of it at one go. He paused, though, and frowned a bit. "You do have a mum, don't you?"

Severus was taken aback, and Lupin glared at the red-haired boy whose face was beginning to match the strawberry jam he was studiously spreading on his roll. "Of course I have a mother," Severus muttered, breaking his own roll in half. He put one half on his plate with the bacon and picked at the half he held in his hand.

"I know you had a mother," Ron replied, looking uncomfortable. "But didn't you have a mum?"

For a long moment, Severus was silent, not sure how to answer that question. His first impulse had been a scathing retort, but he refused to engage in verbal banter with a sixteen-year-old boy. His second impulse had been to reply with the truth, that his mother had been a lousy cook and a lousy mother and that he'd been lucky to have cold Muggle cereal for breakfast most days. He hadn't the chance to reply, though, before Lupin did.

"That's enough, Ron." There was no real edge to the statement, just a low warning, and it quieted the Weasley boy immediately.

He turned even redder as he mumbled "Sorry, Professor."

Severus took a bite of his roll. A real bite, for the first time since he'd sat down, and he was momentarily surprised at how it all but melted in his mouth. He'd been hoping that the act of chewing would buy him some much needed time to recover himself, but it was a short-lived hope, and as he chased the bread with a sip of tea, he made up his mind. You will be civil to them today, he told himself firmly. "No need to apologize," he replied, breaking a slice of crisp bacon in half and looking at it studiously for a moment. "And, no, I don't think my mother was anything like your mum." He ate the bacon, frowning slightly at it. Remus was right; Molly was a good cook.

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Half an hour later, there were only a few remnants of breakfast on the table. Severus was surprised to find he'd eaten nearly half of what Molly had put in front of him, and, after some prompting from Lupin, he'd even drunk the entire glass of milk, something he hadn't done since he was a child. Molly stood and began clearing the table, and Severus nearly offered to help her, but, remembering the previous night and how she'd brushed away his offer, he changed his mind. He stood and began picking up plates and empty glasses, not even asking her if she wanted help.

She was coming back from the sink when she passed him with his hands full of plates, and she frowned. "Now, you don't need to be doing that," she scolded lightly, but he could tell that she was pleased that he was.

"Nonsense," he replied. "I haven't been teaching potions for fifteen years without learning how to wash a pot."

There was a chuckle from the table, and Molly braced her hands on her hips. Severus didn't have to turn around to see who had been laughing, because she announced it to them all in a shrill voice. "Ronald Weasley! I certainly don't see you rushing to help out!"

"I don't know anything about washing dishes!" Ron protested, and Molly's eyes narrowed.

Severus leaned towards her and whispered conspiratorily, "He really doesn't, you know. I'll attest to that." Molly's scowl turned into a grin and she shook her head, making her way to the table again.

"Why don't you sit down, Molly?" That was Lupin's voice this time, and Severus could hear the clattering of plates again. "You're always cleaning up after us, it's our turn."

There was more scuffling of chairs against the floor, and Severus thought three more people must have developed altruistic streaks as well, because the amount of noise behind him was a cacophony that no two people could have made alone. Carrying the dishes to the sink where Molly had already begun running the dishwater, Severus hesitated only a minute before rolling up his sleeves. The last time he'd rolled his sleeves where anyone could see him, he'd spent several hours convincing that person that he wasn't evil just because he bore the Dark Mark on his arm. That had been Aislinn. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was in the storeroom behind his classroom, scrubbing at a cauldron in silent companionship with the Divination teacher, and he clutched at the counter to keep from stumbling at the power of the memory.

"Professor Snape! Your water's about to run over!" Severus flung his eyes open again, just in time to see Hermione reaching across him to cut off the water flowing from the faucet. She stared at him for a long minute, then asked softly, "Are you all right, Professor?"

He swallowed hard. "I'm fine," he whispered hoarsely.

"Are you sure?" she persisted. "You look pale."

"I'm always pale, Miss Granger," he replied evenly.

"Yes," she said softly, "but you're paler than normal. Why don't you go sit down? Really. Ginny and I can…"

"Don't you have homework or something to study for, Miss Granger?" he asked acerbically.

She bit her lower lip, but didn't say anything else, and Severus felt a slight pang of guilt as she slipped back to the table. He picked up one of the glasses and dunked it into the water, putting his mind to the task of washing the dishes and hoping that everyone would just leave him to it. He needed something to do that didn't involve sitting among that chattering group. Slowly, the glasses left the soap-filled sink and went into the one with clear water in it, and the stack of dishes at his right elbow grew higher and higher. Finally, Lupin brought in the last stack, just as Severus was moving the glasses from the rinse water to the drying rack.

"Here," Remus offered, "I'll do that."

With a slight sigh, Severus moved back to the soapy water and continued to plunge dishes into it, scrubbing more zealously than was strictly necessary, and then slipping them into the rinse water when he was satisfied they were clean.

"I don't think anyone has ever offered to clean the kitchen before for Molly," Remus commented softly.

"Hrmph." A nondescript reply was all Severus had to offer as he put his attention on the rim of a plate. The silence settled again, marked only by the slight crackling sound of the bubbles and the soft swish of water and the occasional squeaking of towel against plate. For several minutes, the blissful silence reigned, and then Remus spoke again.

"Did you try one of the turnovers?" he asked, "They were delicious."

"No." Severus picked up another stack of plates and lowered them gently into the water, then spent a moment rearranging the dishes still at his side. It was almost surreal how many dishes there were. Even for as large a group as they were, there were a lot more dishes than Severus thought truly necessary, though if his own place setting had been any indication it was little wonder. A bowl, two plates, a glass, a cup and a saucer, all for breakfast. He idly wondered what Molly would do for a big dinner. He had a momentary image of a table cracking and breaking under the weight of the dishes. Just the dishes, no food.

"You know," Lupin was saying, "I've been thinking about…"

"Can't you think silently?" Severus asked.

There was a momentary pause, and then Lupin spoke again. "You certainly are in a cheerful mood this morning, aren't you?"

With a sigh, Severus reached across Lupin and picked up a towel. He painstakingly dried his hands on it, then turned to face the other man, folding his arms across his chest. "Look," he said evenly. "It has been a bloody long weekend for me already. I went to the funeral of a dear friend yesterday morning, and the Death Eater meeting was even worse than normal, and yesterday evening was taxing, to say the least. I don't like being around so many people; it makes me nervous. I want everyone to leave me the hell alone. I don't want them to try to understand me and I don't want to talk about it. I didn't sleep three hours last night, and what sleep I had was in an uncomfortable position, and I did not anticipate coming here to have a second bloody breakfast. If I'd known this was what I was Flooing into, I would have stayed at Hogwarts for another hour. So, please, forgive me if I am not in a cheerful mood." Having finished his little speech, Severus turned away and plunged his hands into the soapy water again, picking up another plate.

"I'm sorry," Lupin said softly. "I didn't know. About your friend."

Severus snorted softly. "What difference does it make to you? You didn't know her."

"That doesn't matter. I would have been more sympathetic…"

Severus paused his washing and stared incredulously at Remus. "Banish the thought, Lupin," he said dryly. "If I had any more sympathy, I'd drown in it. I don't need sympathy." He dropped the plate into the rinse water and picked up another. "I need something to take my mind off it." This last was said more to himself than to his companion.

"Right," Lupin said softly, nodding. "Which is why you were so eager to do the dishes."

"Precisely."

"And your answers are short because you'd rather I either leave or quit trying to talk to you."

"Your deductive skills astound." Severus regretted saying that almost instantly. He glanced at Lupin from the corner of his eye, and the other man was nodding thoughtfully, still good-natured seeming.

The silence lasted several minutes this time, and Severus was scrubbing at forks when Lupin spoke again. "You said a dear friend…" he said, edging into the subject with what he likely considered subtlety. "Was this a… lady friend?"

Severus sighed. "Yes, if you must know. And before you ask, yes, she and I shared more than friendship and I really, really do not wish to discuss it."

Lupin nodded silently, and after several moments, it was Severus who broke the silence.

"You mean you didn't already know all that?"

"Know what?" Severus studied him for a moment, trying to decide if the innocence was an act or genuine. After a moment, he settled on genuine; Lupin was a horrible liar. Quite good at keeping a secret, of course, but it was always rather obvious he had one.

"About Aislinn."

For a moment, Lupin looked confused, then understanding dawned across his face. "No," he replied, and Severus believed him. "How should I have known?"

With a shrug, Severus muttered, "I assumed one of the children would have said something. They were certainly hounding me about it last night."

Remus nodded slowly, taking a handful of flatware from the water and toweling it dry. "That's why you weren't upstairs with them," he mused thoughtfully. "And it's why they were so subdued when I went in there."

Severus picked up a sharp knife and scrubbed thoughtfully at the blade. "Surprising," he murmured. "I would have thought they'd be blurting it all over the house."

"You don't give them much credit, Severus. They've all learned to keep their secrets."

He snorted softly in reply. "Their secrets, yes, but everyone else's?"

"Yes," Lupin insisted softly. "They keep your secret, you know. And they kept Sirius' secret. And I've little doubt they would have kept mine."

A twinge of guilt tugged at Severus; he certainly hadn't kept Lupin's secret. In a fit of petulance, he'd told a half-dozen Slytherins, confident that the story would reach around the school by lunchtime. He'd been hoping to see Dumbledore sack one of the Marauders, but it somehow seemed much more despicable in light of the fact that Lupin had resigned rather than force the Headmaster to make that decision. "They keep the secrets they are told to keep," Severus replied stiffly. "I doubt they'd know what to keep quiet about without help, though."

"I don't know," Lupin mused. "I suppose it depends on which of them you're talking about. Harry and Ron are as insensitive and clueless as any sixteen-year-old boys. They're no better, or worse, than you or I were at that age, which is probably saying a great deal. Hermione is sharp, and you know that, but do you know how big her heart is?"

Severus raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Did you know that she started a club to liberate the House Elves?"

A snorted laugh escaped Severus' lips. "No, I didn't."

Remus nodded, smiling. "She did. I don't think she's convinced very many people other than Ron and Harry, and I'm not sure she actually convinced them… but she's very concerned about the way House Elves are treated."

"Idealism," Severus bit off the word as though it had a bitter taste. "Something time will cure."

"Probably," Lupin agreed. "But for now, she's very sensitive to others' feelings. And Ginny is, too. Very perceptive, that girl. And it wouldn't surprise me to hear that it was those two who convinced, cajoled or threatened as the case may be, the others into keeping quiet."

Severus considered that for a minute. "Then perhaps I owe Miss Granger an apology," he said softly. He knew, though, that it wasn't likely to happen. Not any time soon. He reached across Lupin and rinsed the knife, then placed it on the drying rack, taking care to see that the blade was not exposed.

Thoughtful silence enveloped them, and for several more moments, they washed and dried quietly. Finally, Severus spoke again, breaking the silence for the second time. "I'll finish in here, Remus. Go tell—" he stopped short and took a deep breath. "Will you tell everyone to give me ten more minutes, and then be ready to meet?"

Remus nodded, smiling. "That was difficult for you, wasn't it, Severus?"

Severus snorted softly. "You've no idea."

Lupin dried his hands on the towel, then draped it over the edge of the counter, and patted Severus' shoulder. "I think I might have an idea," he said. "But just an idea." He slipped quietly from the kitchen, leaving Severus to finish the dishes and to spend those last ten minutes gathering his composure once more.