The gaze narrowed, following the last Gryffindor brat out of the classroom. Not that the war hadn't taken care of the majority of them...
Which wasn't to say that Slytherin hadn't had some of the worst losses.
All those lives. A singular goal that would end a lifestyle. That was His goal, not the mean-eyed teacher, who still glared at the doorway as if another student would wander in with an incessantly idiotic question, or equally unreliable excuse why his or her homework was missing.
An exhausted sigh fell of the thin lips, curling softly beneath his chin. And yet...one more look at his once-upon-a-time tormentor, what he wouldn't give for that one sight. To see him how he'd never been in school: lively, energetic, so full of life.
'Ridiculous notions, Severus,' the professor addressed himself, quietly, 'Even for an aging man like you.'
He never hated Remus. How could anyone hate that man who was so singularly innocent? Sure, he'd buddied around with James and Sirius and Peter, not that Peter was much of anything in their boyhoods, but he'd never truly hurt Severus.
No, but he was so Godric-damned passive; he wouldn't dare interfere with his friend's fun. Severus had his theories about Remus' passive behavior, only now realizing how silly it was to think it natural.
Leaning back in his chair, Professor Severus Snape stretched out aching muscles, groaning with stiff joints. Perhaps he should consider retirement. After all, he was no Dumbledore.
A fawn flash out of the corner of his eye brought the now elderly professor straight up in his chair. "Mr. Potter, I expect a damn good excuse for wandering around my office...And I won't hear any of your nonsense about testing for Nargle eggs."
The thin face reappeared in the doorway, looking slightly confused, and then breaking into a rather charming grin. "Professor..." Remus drawled. "Would I do that?"
"Yes, you've tried that stunt four times. Perhaps you should listen to your friends when they tell you to get in shape...You seem to be lagging of late..."A bony finger pushed the glasses up on his nose, to perch at such an angle to be helpful in truly distinguishing the boy's facial features.
"Ouch,"Blue grumbled, stepping into the classroom. "Actually, Professor...Arty and Loki have completely given me up for useless on this assignment."
"There's no surprise there."
"I was hoping a certain wonderful professor of this certain subject could perhaps spell things out for me...?"
Snape narrowed his eyes. The other boys were likely up to something outside and had left Remus for bait. What was it the elder Potter always said? 'Boys will be marauders'...Right. Let them have their games. Severus Snape was already planning his retirement.
A deep, exasperated sigh lifted off his chest and he motioned the boy nearer. "You say such things as if I wasn't perfectly clear in class..." he trailed off in a soft growl, continuing in his head, 'Not that you would notice. You always seem more interested in the Longbottom boy...'
Glasses were peeled from the fatigue-sweaty face, and dropped unceremoniously to the desk. An hour and a half. Truly. He was just as useless in Potions as he had been...how many decades ago? Too many.
Quiet thoughts lingered. How many times had he nearly called the boy 'Remus'? Potter seemed so adamant about keeping Lupin in the closet, figuratively, about his true identity.
At only seventeen, Potter had gathered all the staff of Hogwarts with a quiet request. Holding the fawn-haired child close to his chest, the young man began, I want it silent about his true identity."
"Why?" the question had been from Professor Sprout, now long since dead.
"He deserves a fresh start...a new life. I want him to be free from the wolf completely. I know that's a silly dream, but he deserves to just grow up before we tell him...if ever." Potter shook his head, sighing, "No, that won't do. We will tell him. All of us. But let him grow up as a normal child, please."
All assembled nodded slowly. Who didn't agree that Remus Lupin had had a painful and stress-filled life? Now was his quiet time.
That had been the pact. If only it was easy to keep said pact: the boy looked far too similar to his old self...younger maybe, and healthier, but still Remus Lupin, through and through. It was inevitable that someone would slip up.
Right?
