Remus stepped out of the fireplace on Sunday afternoon, gently cradling the box of octurvice clippings against his chest. Blinking away the momentary disorientation, he saw Severus standing in the middle of an average-sized sitting room, leaning elegantly on his cane.

"Lupin," he nodded in greeting.

"Severus," smiled Remus. "It's nice to see you again."

Snape took the box wordlessly and motioned him vaguely towards an armchair before carefully leaving the room, presumably to attend to the delicate magical herb. Typical, thought Remus with a sad smile, he even manages to hobble gracefully.

Every wall in the room was covered with bookshelves, floor to ceiling, but the large bay window let in enough light to keep the atmosphere from being oppressive. It took Remus a moment to realise why the fine old antique furniture looked rather clumsy – each piece was suited to a much larger, grander room than this. They were obviously heirlooms salvaged from the family castle before it was sold, though still in good condition despite their reduced circumstances.

There were a few ornaments and knick-knacks on the marble mantelpiece. Remus' eye was caught by a recent photograph, tucked randomly behind a gold ormolu clock. A tanned young man with chin-length platinum blond hair had his arm around the waist of a laughing girl with olive skin and abundant brown curls, their relaxed expressions belying the formality of their robes. Remus waved it as Severus re-entered the room.

"Draco looks well," he observed, glad to have found a way to open conversation.

"He is. That photograph was taken at his mother's wedding two years ago."

"Oh yes, I read that she remarried. An Italian millionaire, wasn't it?"

"Indeed. The Count is more than twenty years her senior. I understand Draco receives a considerable allowance from him." Lupin was amused.

"Draco doesn't work then?"

Snape sighed, and settled into a chair.

"Most of his time is spent sailing, playing pegasus polo and fighting off amorous young Italian witches. Or so he informs me." Lupin chuckled at the thought of Harry's reaction to the lifestyle of his old enemy. He was surprised not to see Snape rolling his eyes or passing comment on such a frivolous existence.

"You approve, Severus?"

He pressed his fingertips together thoughtfully, before answering in that fragile whisper,

"Not exactly. Yet I cannot blame him for enjoying his youth. I would be concerned were he to remain thus occupied ten years from now."

Enjoying his youth. Remus felt an unpleasant stab of jealousy as he thought of himself at twenty-one. Up to his neck in war and political intrigue, fighting Draco's father and his cohorts alongside Sirius, Peter, James and Lily, not knowing that his world was about to be utterly destroyed in a matter of months. Then years of drifting, betrayed and alone with his deadly curse, even denied any contact with little Harry, the only ray of hope in the miserable pit that was his life. But it would not do to wallow. Glancing over at Severus, he saw that he too was lost in an equally painful past.

He must have grown up in this house, Remus realised, suddenly keen to explore. He was about to suggest a tour of the building when a house-elf appeared from nowhere with a tray of tea and biscuits.

"Thank you, Josty," whispered Severus, leaning forward to pour out two cups.

"Choccy biccies!" exclaimed Remus in delight. "I didn't know you had a sweet tooth."

"Of course not," admonished Snape. "But I was expecting a guest who does."

Inexplicably pleased at this small piece of thoughtfulness, Remus began telling Severus about his own little house, hoping to encourage the other wizard to talk about the Gatehouse. But either because his throat was sore, or because he did not care to venture the information, he seemed content to sit and listen to what quickly became the Laburnum House monologue. Slightly disappointed, Remus continued nonetheless, enjoying any opportunity to talk about his home. As he moved on to describe the gnarly old cherry tree in the garden, the side door creaked open and a small, fierce-looking kneazle padded in and glared at him with apparent outrage. Remus tailed off, glancing at Severus.

"I didn't know you had a pet, Severus," he said, as amiably as he could under that ferocious yellow-eyed stare.

"It would seem that the creature has me, rather than the other way round," he commented wryly. The kneazle snarled, showing its sharp teeth. "It invited itself inside one day, and shows no inclination to leave. I find its presence somewhat relaxing."

"You could have fooled me," Remus could not refrain from commenting. Snape shrugged noncommittally.

"How would you feel on returning home to find a werewolf sitting in your favourite chair?"

Lupin had to agree that, were he a kneazle, he would not be amused. Most smaller creatures were wary of him. Then he caught what Severus had said.

"He has a favourite chair?"

"I believe the beast is a female. This is my favourite chair, you are sitting in hers. You will find everything in this house settles into its proper place."

"What about me? Will I get a proper place?"

The appraising black eyes stared even more intently than the yellow feline ones on the rug. After a while, Remus began to feel uncomfortable, knowing he had crossed the line by casually suggesting more frequent visits.

"You wish to spend time here?" Severus asked finally , his soft voice betraying no emotion whatsoever.

"I would like to see you," Remus began defensively, then hastily added, "If you don't object that is. I wouldn't want to disturb you."

Severus was silent for a few moments, allowing Remus to take in the black hair, now liberally threaded with white, hanging in front of his face and the oblong black-framed spectacles, forming physical barriers between their owner and the outside world. Despite his natural dislike of pets, he had welcomed a small, striped kneazle when it invited itself into his life. He also had a natural dislike of Remus Lupin…

"I doubt you would disturb me," he admitted finally. Glancing from one house guest to the other, he whispered, "But I must insist you choose another chair, I cannot tolerate the hostility between you two."

Remus was delighted with the decision, and chose the window seat. Peering outside he could not see the sea, but he could taste it in the fresh air blowing through the slightly open sash. The afternoon sunshine felt warm and soothing on his face. Next to the hearth the kneazle sniffed at the place he had just vacated, kneaded the upholstery for a moment, then, with a final death glare at him, curled up for a nap. Sinking a little deeper into his chair, Snape poured himself a second cup of tea as the clock melodically struck the half hour, barely disturbing the comfortable silence.

Interesting, thought Severus to himself. I wonder what the werewolf thinks he's doing?

………………….

A/N: Hope you don't mind the peaceful domesticity this chapter. Be assured, there will be a nasty flashback next time (I think Murielmodel will enjoy it, from what you've said before!) Thanks to Muriel, LilStripedTomato and Hopgoblen for taking the time to comment on my new chapters, and thanks to Wanda, Snuff, heytheredorothy and Silverthreads too. I love hearing what you have to say! Lots of love, SN x