A/N: -whispers- any mistakes in the Scottish Gaelic are mine, and I apologise profusely for them - please don't hate me.
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Remus rested as much as he felt he would be able to safely the next morning, still waking before noon. He had a ways to go before the afternoon was gone, and he wanted to make damn sure he was there before the sun set. Packing lightly, he kept his mind focused on what he may find tonight, and he did his best to avoid thinking of Snape. He had to, or his mind would drive to thoughts of kissing Snape, and laying Snape down while undressing him, and kissing his neck… he realised then he had never seen Snape's neck, and he frowned at the thought.
Arriving just before sunset, Remus took in the small village of Eilean Iarmain. Like most of Skye, it was a small, tightly knit community. A small lighthouse overlooked the sheltered harbour, not far from the main street where the hotel was located, and near where Remus stopped to catch his breath. He had to walk the rest of the way to Fearann Eilean Iarmain.
He reflected it had probably been a wise idea; not mentioning to Snape the letter had come with a hotel room key, for Snape most certainly would have demanded Remus to hand it over, or any other many possibilities, none of them which would have allowed Remus to be here tonight. Laughing at that, he could not resist the warm feeling that came with knowing Snape was concerned about him.
"Failte," Remus greeted the clerk behind the desk at the hotel. He ordered dinner through their room service before retiring to his room to wait. And wait he did. Nothing came for him that night, nor the next day nor the day after and by the second night, Remus decided he had had enough of being caged up and waiting.
He owled Jack, asking him to meet him at his room later. He had planned to go to see Jack and his family after this, but he found he couldn't even muster the desire to do so. Every time he tried, his mind was filled with thoughts of Snape instead. Snape alone at the cottage, alone for Christmas. It would not have been fair to Jack and his family or even to Remus to be thrust together when all he wanted to do was be near Snape. He would owl Snape after he got back from his walk, asking if perhaps Snape wouldn't mind a visit this week.
It was thoughts of Snape that filled his mind as he walked down toward the harbour that Christmas Eve, and it was thoughts of Snape that kept him distracted enough so that he did not hear the near silent footsteps behind him. He had no time to grab his wand as the first spell hit him, and he fell to the ground, hitting it hard and out of breath.
'Tha me duilich,' the wind carried.
"Not yet you're not," Remus growled in reply, reaching for his wand and rolling out of the way of the next spell just in time. Not knowing where to fire his spell, or at who for that matter, Remus concentrated on defensive spells while waiting.
He didn't have to wait long.
"Do àm cha bhi dràsd," the windy voice said before firing three more spells in rapid succession, each lowering Remus' defence more. A fourth and final spell left his vision blackening and pain in his head and legs.
"Ath-uair."
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Snape arrived at Lupin's cottage early the following morning, having set out after a few hours of unsuccessful attempts at sleep. The frost had fallen heavily and the world outside had been coated in a shimmering, icy glaze, causing Snape to have to take great care when walking not to slip and slide all over the place. He could, of course, just have cast a simple spell to prevent this from happening, but in a Muggle populated area this would have been highly unwise.
Dropping his trunk, he rummaged around inside his robes, searching for the envelope containing the key to the cottage. He had managed to find the location with little trouble, pleasantly surprised by the sights that greeted him on his arrival. Finding the key, he unlocked the door and let himself in.
The cottage was in darkness, and as bitterly cold as it was outside. Shivering slightly he conjured a small ball of light in his hand, and looked around for the fireplace. Finding it a few moments later, he shot several sparks from the end of his wand in the direction of the fire and the room was instantly illuminated in a welcoming, orange glow.
The cottage wasn't at all like he had expected. He never really understood why, but he had always assumed that Lupin would be an orderly sort of person: a place for everything and everything in its place, however his home told a different story. Although it wasn't untidy by any stretch of the word, it definitely had a 'lived in' feeling too it, which warmed Snape more than the fire that was burning in the grate. He missed Lupin already, and was more than a little worried about him. It hadn't escaped Snape's notice that he was reluctant not to let him into his room when he had went to deliver the potion the previous evening. Snape could tell that Lupin didn't want to be alone anymore than he wanted to leave him, but he understood why; and he respected that.
He took a few moments to look around the cottage. The walls and shelves were packed full of photographs of smiling faces; some he recognized and others he didn't. Moving towards one shelf, he noticed a photo of the Gryffindor trio that Lupin had been so fond of; Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley. Lupin was standing between Harry and Hermione, arms draped over their shoulders as Ron knelt on the grass in front of them. He looked happy. It had been taken shortly after Voldemort's defeat, where everyone had done nothing but laugh and joke and smile for great many weeks afterward. That look had slowly faded from Lupin, not that Snape had noticed it at the time, but seeing the picture in his hand made him realise how much this recent business with his brother had taken its toll on him.
Replacing the picture, he picked up one that was sitting next to it. The beaming faces of Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew waved back at him. Feeling a stab of resentment, he put it back on the shelf, face down, and made his way up to the guest room where he began to make a start unpacking his things. He had two weeks of solitude ahead of him, and although he found himself wishing that Lupin were here with him, being somewhere that was full of items and smells that reminded Snape of him somehow made the time apart all that more bearable. Term would start again soon and as he lay down on the cool bed, closing his eyes to rest them for only a moment, he found himself thinking that the end of the holidays couldn't come quick enough.
Snape spent the next few days, reading and working on various potions in the kitchen that he wanted to experiment with. In the evenings, he took to exploring the cottage; rummaging through old photograph albums and other personal effects belonging to Lupin. The man really was something of a packrat; he seemed reluctant to throw anything away.
Christmas Eve rolled around faster than Snape had expected it to. Settling himself in front of the fire, as the clock struck midnight, he held up a goblet of pumpkin juice that he had poured himself. "Merry Christmas Remus," he whispered softly.