Warning: Character death, non-gruesome, non-violent, non-explicit. But there's some fluff too!

Remus had been trying to wipe the adoring smile off his face all morning. For goodness' sake, it had been the tiniest peck, the lightest brush of lips against forehead, he told himself. He certainly got bigger kisses from Molly, Hermione, Ginny and the rest of his female friends, but when he stopped (about every five minutes) to consider the significance of getting any display of affection from Prof. Severus Alexander de Carvel Snape, FIMP (d'Or), OM (2nd), he reasoned it must be the equivalent of a houseful of red roses and a double page declaration of obsessive adulation in the Daily Prophet from anyone else.

He was unsure at which point he had begun to entertain ideas of Severus as being more than a friend. He had been ignoring the notion, he realised now, as the likelihood of his feelings being reciprocated was virtually non-existent. But what exactly were his feelings? Admiration, certainly. Fondness, definitely. Curiosity, absolutely. Attraction, oh yes. Love? Hmm. Bit early to know. But there was an undeniable feeling of warm gooeyness whenever he thought of that kiss. And Severus obviously felt something too. But was it enough to begin a relationship with? Sirius would tell him to stop overanalysing everything and just go with the flow. Well, after he had expressed revulsion, outrage and incredulity at Remus for entertaining feelings for that Slimy Slytherin Snake, that is. Dear Sirius. How would he have coped with peacetime? Not very well, Remus suspected, the words "peace" and "Sirius" were rarely spoken in the same sentence. What if…

"No," he said aloud to himself. "No "what ifs"." Allowing himself some time to think of Sirius, he slipped on his gardening shoes and went to visit the Bishop.

Amidst the jungle of bindweed, litter and thorns that constituted the garden at Grimmauld Place, Remus had discovered a bright red dahlia standing stiffly upright, disdaining the untamed chaos surrounding it. Fascinated by the vivid beauty of the flower, Remus had enlisted Sirius' help to identify it, leafing through the huge gardening volumes in the Black library. Grumbling good-naturedly about poofs and flowers he had complied, having nothing better to do, and after a few hours the blood red bloom had been revealed to be a Bishop of Llandaff. Sirius found this hilarious.

"It's named after some Taffy god-botherer!" he had howled with laughter.

Sirius did not 'do' gardening, considering it a pastime for old women and woofters, yet stuck in that awful house, unable to leave or do anything useful for the cause, he found himself tending to the Bishop every day. He cut back the brambles threatening to choke it, checked it had enough water and sunlight, even spread hippogriff manure on the stony patch of soil it was growing in. Remus supposed there was some metaphor there, about a rose amongst the thorns or something, Sirius growing up as a griffindor good guy in the twisted House of Black.

The Bishop had been the only thing Remus had removed from that house after the war. It was now thriving in a sunny corner of his own garden, a violently colourful memorial to his graveless dead friend.

He was deep in thoughts of the past as he knelt in the flowerbed, tugging at a few weeds when he heard the chimney whistle, telling him someone was trying to fire call. Straightening up and dashing inside, he was surprised to hear Severus' voice in the sitting room, hoarsely whispering his name.

"I'm here! Sorry, I was in the garden. Are you all right?"

Snape's usually impassive face was showing signs of upset. He spoke with some urgency.

"Are you busy? May I come through?"

"Of course. Is something wrong?"

The floo flared for a second, and Severus appeared. Taking a step forward, his bad knee buckled, dumping him inelegantly on the hearthrug. Remus reached around his shoulders to help him up and was surprised to feel arms slide around his waist and cling on tightly. He was shaking, which Remus found alarming, but he said nothing, simply returning the hug which was obviously needed. After a few minutes the grip relaxed slightly, and Snape said the very last thing Lupin expected.

"Do you have any chocolate?"

"Always," smiled the werewolf gently, summoning some from the kitchen. After a few bites, Snape stopped shivering and allowed himself to be helped over to the sofa.

"Forgive me, Lupin, for that terrible display of incapacity."

"Not at all. You worried me. What happened?"

He took another bite of chocolate and whispered,

"Azkaban."

"What? What on earth were you doing in….oh. Oh I see. You went to see Malfoy."

Snape nodded, shivering again.

"This was not my first visit to the island. For some reason I was very badly affected on this occasion. I felt unable to return home alone. I hope I have not inconvenienced…"

"Of course not, Severus. You are welcome here anytime you wish." Unsure if the potions master would want to discuss what had obviously been an unpleasant experience, Remus began, "I read in the Prophet that his final appeal failed. There really is no chance he'll escape the Kiss now?"

"None whatever. His lawyers have tried every last possibility over five years. They have dragged up every ancient decree and loophole in the legal world. The only thing which will keep him from being kissed is death itself." He shuddered again, an strange expression passing over his face as he uttered the word 'death'. "It should take place tomorrow."

Remus had no idea what to say. He knew that Severus and Lucius Malfoy had been close in the past, a complicated relationship which he could not begin to understand. He did know, however, that Severus did not disagree with the sentence, having witnessed first hand the atrocities of which that beautiful demon was capable. He also knew that Snape had spent a few terrible days in the hellhole jail leading up to his own murder trial at the end of the first war. He was going to need more than chocolate to recover this afternoon.

"He asked me to go," Snape volunteered in his breathy voice, "He was allowed one final visitor. Naturally he asked Draco and Narcissa first, but they both refused. Everyone else was either killed or kissed years ago."

That part Remus could understand. His contemporaries were dead, too, mostly killed by Severus' Death Eater ex-cronies, actually. But that was the nature of war, and the bottom line was that they had both survived. They both owed it to those who had fallen to make as much as they could from their precious years of life, Remus believed. He moved to sit next to Severus. Gently he pulled the other wizard into a comforting warm embrace, and was by equal measures pleased and saddened when he felt the other shaking with silent little sobs. Again Remus was thrilled to be privy to an emotional display from the most undemonstrative man he knew. Severus Snape was crying.

…….

The following morning, Remus was humming cheerfully as he ate breakfast on his sunny terrace. The bond between himself and Severus was getting steadily stronger, and whatever that feeling fuzzy feeling in his stomach was called, he decided he liked it very much. When he opened the newspaper, the good mood vanished with such suddenness his mug of tea crashed to the floor, shattering wetly on the stone slabs. Mouth gaping open, he began to read the main story.

Malfoy Found Dead in Azkaban Cell.

Last Death Eater Suffers Heart Attack Hours Before Execution.

Condemned murderer Lucius Malfoy was found dead at 3:55 this morning by Azkaban wardens. The 46 year old Death Eater was due to receive the Dementor's Kiss later today after his final appeal was rejected on Friday, following several years of legal wrangling over his conviction. A post-mortem examination was carried out immediately, revealing the cause of death as heart failure, sometime between one and two o' clock.

"Earlier prison medical tests failed to show any natural conditions. The last one was carried out two weeks ago, the results show Mr. Malfoy was in perfect health," said Ministry spokeswoman Dolores Umbridge, "Yet the Magicoroner is satisfied that no unnatural potions or spells contributed to his death. The Ministry would like to comment that…"

Remus did not care what the Ministry wanted to say. His mind was reeling. Severus. He had to see Severus. Dashing through to the sitting room he called his name through the fire a few times, before Josty appeared.

"Josty! Where's Severus? Is he all right?"

"Master Lupin, Sir, Master Snape is gone to Milan. He is looking fine to Josty. Is there being bad things happening? Is you worried about Master?"

"Milan? He's gone to see Draco?"

"Yes, Sir, I is thinking."

Lupin frowned as a vicious little thought began forming in the back of his mind. He tried to damp it down, but found it just got stronger. Newsprint flashed before his eyes: no medical conditions. So why would Malfoy just drop dead? No potions had been found in his system, but what about something untraceable? Stop it. Don't think that! Remus Lupin you will NOT think that. Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, he saw him just yesterday afternoon. Calm down, breathe, calm down. In. Out. In. Out. In.

Right.

"Josty?"

"Yes, Master Lupin, Sir?"

"When did Severus leave for Italy?" Please say this morning, please say this morning.

"About six o'clock yesterday evening, Sir. Master is going right after he is getting home from Master Lupin's house."

Remus sank into the chair nearest the fire. Was he being stupid? Was his imagination running wild? He could not shake the memory of the look on Severus' face when he said that only death would spare Lucius from having his soul ripped from his body. He was certainly capable of brewing an untraceable poison, one which would stop the heart from beating in the manner of a cardiac arrest. But could he administer it to his old friend? Had he seen it as a mercy killing? Or had Malfoy secretly asked him for it, as a last "fuck you" to the Ministry?

Then again, he could have gone to see Draco and Narcissa to tell them about his innocent visit to the prison. He could have gone to offer emotional support to the young man he was so fond of on the day his estranged father's body became an empty shell. Lucius could have gone to pieces on having to finally accept his fate. Remus was sure that neither human guard nor dementor would have come running with a paper bag if he had started having a panic attack in the middle of his last coherent night on Earth. After all, people drop dead all the time. Don't they?

Remus hoped so.

……

A/N: Ooh look at all my reviews! On Monday my inbox was full of them – what a fabulous birthday present! Thank you so much x