Scanning the hall during the Feast, Severus could not help noticing the conspicuous absence of a number of students he was sure had been present for last year's meal. Mostly Hufflepuffs no surprises there but a fair number of Gryffindors, too. Go figure. Bravery, my ass.
But even a few Slytherins were gone, too.
Severus wondered, idly, if the overprotective dunderheads who called themselves these children's parents were really so scared of the Dark Lord if they were, he smirked, they should have taken fright a year ago or if the news of Lupin's appointment had really travelled so fast.
Probably the latter, he soon concluded people are alwys frightened over the wrong things, just look at the 3rd year Gryffindors and with no small thanks to Lucius. Apprehended Death Eater or not, Severus highly doubted Lucius' powers of malicious, self-serving gossip mongering and suave person persuation had diminished in the least.
In fact, if memory served and it had better serve; the meeting was only last night Severus knew they hadn't. He grimaced, ever so slightly, and shook himself inwardly. No need to think about that now. Save it for another day.
"...And now, I'm pleased to introduce or reintroduce, as the case may be our two" Severus scowled; why did the old man have to make such a bloody big deal about that little fact? To Severus himself, to the psychic healers, to the staff. And now to that detestable group of children.
He sometimes wondered why he even bothered anymore but then, of course, he remembered. There was the minor fact that, aside from Dumbledore no one or at least, no one doing anything with even a semblance of legality to it was going to give him a snowflake's chance in Hades of being hired, and he wasn't much in a mood to be left as destitute and without means as Lupin was.
Or rather, as Lupin had been.
Lord, Severus thought, do I hate that man. On further thought, he wasn't even sure who "that man" was, whether he was Albus or
"Remus Lupin," Albus was continuing
but in any case, he most certainly hated him. Severus hadn't been paying much attention when Albus had announced his names a few seconds earlier after a while, all of the beginning of term speeches begin to sound like a mediocre composer's variations on a theme, and Severus was sure that Albus would have mentioned any vaguely interesting bits and pieces of the speech already at the staff meeting two days ago, along with the many utterly uninteresting bits he'd mentioned but he was sure the sounds of applause echoing in the Great Hall had risen significantly after Lupin's name was mentioned. Severus was just jealous enough and quite resentful enough to let this fact get a rise out of him. "Bloody little gits," he muttered under his breath. "Prefer a violent beast over a violently tempered man, do they?"
Next to him, the violent beast shifted uncomfortably in his seat before continuing to scarf down roast beef, and the violently tempered man almost felt a tinge of regret at his words.
"...kindly consented to fill his space during the two weeks surrounding Prof. Lupin's monthly illnesses..."
Almost.
But really, it was Albus' own fault. Severus was certain that he had not been kind in his consent, and, to his mind, he hadn't really consented at all. He hadn't had much of a choice, whatever Albus might try to say to the contrary.
Severus turned his gaze from Remus, who had shifted his hungry attention from the roast to a large pile of potatoes (by the looks of it, the man hadn't eaten in days, and Severus wondered for a moment whether the starvation hadn't been of Lupin's own volition, or if it was simply a product of his poverty) and looked over towards Albus.
Damnit, but he really did hate that man.
Well, Severus corrected himself almost instantly, that wasn't entirely true. There were parts of Albus which he actually rather liked. The part that paid him, for instance, and that part that made Albus the only wizard the Dark Lord had ever feared. And the part that gave even the most insolent seventh year pause. That part was really rather amusing to watch.
It was just that there were so many other parts of Albus which Severus utterly despised. From the bottom of his heart, or, Severus thought wryly and not without a trace of bitterness, from whatever was left there, anyway. He hated the part of Albus which had never stopped Potter and his gang, and had in fact let Black off with only a slap on the wrist for nearly killing him. The part of Albus which, oh-so-calmly, held everyone around him, pupetts on strings, as he manipulated them while all the while appearing utterly benign and in Minerva's words "with only the best of intentions." The part of him which cared so little when it mattered, and then cared so much when the most caring thing to do would be not to care at all.
But most of all, Severus realized, he hated the part of Albus which trusted him. The part which had put Severus forever in his debt.
"Bloody self-destructive git, I am," Severus muttered inaudibly. Turning his attention back to the Great hall once more, though, he noticed something.
Albus wasn't there.
Nor, for that matter, was nearly anyone else.
Nearly. And therein lay the problem. Lupin remained there, sitting next to him, no longer shoveling potatoes down his throat but just watching Severus with an expression which combined amusement and thoughtfulness in precise measures.
"Shit," Severus swore softly.
Lupin meerly smiled a little more, and Severus could swear that, were the wolf's lips capable of it, that smile would have just become a smirk.
