Rating: G for now, but don't expect it to last…

Parings: At large Lupin/Snape, but if I'm feeling inclined towards it while writing the later chapters I might throw a little Harry/Draco into the back ground.

Warning: Nothing for now.

Summary: Snape's brooding and being an ass to his students (what's new here), Lupin's being miserable and trying to cope with both his own grief and Harry's at the same time. Then there's Draco's initiation coming up, but before that comes Snape's birthday…

Disclaimer: Miss J.K. Rowling would probably choke reading past the first part of my story, since I am borrowing her little brain squirts without any kind of permission. Then again, so are most of you too, "Evil grin." Let it be our little secret.

A/N: This is my first attempt at posting a fic here, so if you can't be kind to me, then at least feed my ego with a little flaming. All criticism is proof someone read my shit!

Prologue: Stealing through the night

It was calm for a while, for some treacherous moments something resembling peace touched the features of the otherwise haughty face. The illusion was almost unnatural and it shattered soon enough; pain shone through, melting into the wrinkles and lines. Was it evidence of nightmares, or perhaps some physical discomfort? Not easy to say really, but it kept surfacing, like ripples on a blackened pond, and Remus Lupin kept on watching.

It was rude, perhaps… technically it was trespassing, it was just. He'd found the door relatively unlocked, and he had expected to find Snape up working. And it wasn't like he had intended to stay; the vision had somehow entrapped him, entranced him, most like a lava lamp, or something of the sort.

All other people he'd had the chance to watch while they slept seemed to let go of the day when they drifted into their slumber; generally looking more at ease and somewhat younger. How come Snape did not, didn't the pensive ensure his sleep to be dreamless? 'Perhaps' Remus thought reflectively to himself, 'perhaps it's a wonder he sleeps at all.' He found himself smiling sadly. 'You bitter old fool, a blessing on you so you don't bite your tongue.'

Uncomfortably thoughtful and feeling slightly giddy Lupin stalked over to the bookcase. With a wave of relieve he confirmed the absence of protective spells and exhumed the tome he'd set out to borrow. 'Won't he be livid when he snoops out I've been here.' Lupin seriously doubted it would make things worse though. After the reinstatement Snape seemed to hate him with rekindled passion. Lupin sighed as he closed the door behind him.

'These halls…' The ragged, lanky werewolf moved swiftly in the shroud of the night, letting his heightened senses guide him so he wouldn't unnecessarily scare any prefects on night patrol. 'These halls hold too many memories.' The night seemed livid about him, somewhere in the periphery of his consciousness grief begged to be let in, but he wouldn't have any of it, not yet. 'I had they weren't memories. Why is life set so, that my heart won't acknowledge that he's gone?'

It had been the same when James and Lily died, and as he believed at the time Peter with them. He hadn't wanted to believe it; it had been too painful to bear.

Now… now it was so much worse, because Sirius had been miraculously restored and for the first time in years it had felt safe to let his breath out… He wasn't alone…

'I shouldn't.' Lupin opened the door to his chamber, letting himself in. 'I should think of Harry, he's lost so much more than I. At least I had the chance to know them.' The reminder tore at his heart. 'I can't lie down and die yet, I've got to…'

Something broke on the inside; Remus fell to his knees on the floor next to his desk. He buried his face in his hands in a vain attempt to keep his emotions in check. "I won't wallow in self pity!" He scolded himself. "I shouldn't have to justify my existence to myself; I can still be of use here."

With concentration straining the fringed reminder of his nerves Lupin got to his feet and opened the tome on his worktop. He began with browsing through the index, finding what he was after soon enough.