Title: Home's the Farthest Way

Chapter: 10

Author: ReeraTheRed

Date: May 13, 2005

Rating: PG13

Our Story So Far: When a semi-cure for werewolfism goes wrong, Lupin is transformed into a woman, and is forced to choose to stay in that form, or lose the benefits of the cure.

Lupin is finally home, after spending the entire previous week recovering at St. Mungo's.

Acknowledgements: Thanks to beta readers Patti, Michelle and Liz.

Author's Note: In answer to one question, I make Lupin turn into an oversized wolf instead of the movie creature because that's what's described in the books. I love the movies, but I try to stay within book canon.

Thanks, everyone, for all the reviews! I really appreciate the feedback.


Chapter 10

Lupin stirred. I'm home, in my own bed. And then, with overwhelming relief – it was all a dream!

A quick investigation of her body denied that, and, for a moment, ecstasy collapsed into misery, but only for a moment. I've been through this already, it's just that I haven't been in this body in my home yet, and it's strange again. It will pass. She repeated in her mind, I've been cured, and felt genuinely happy. I've been cured, my magic mantra, better than any Cheering Charm.

And I'm absolutely starving. She slid her feet out of bed and managed to stand, then stumbled across the floor, out into the hall, and into the kitchen. It means I'm getting better, she thought, the werewolf healing powers would be in full force by now.

Was there anything in the pantry? She hadn't expected to be in hospital all week; she didn't stock up before the full moon. But there was food on the shelves, and she snatched at a loaf of bread and gobbled it down, then staggered over to the sink and ran water that she sucked out of her bare hands. Then back to the pantry to greedily eat anything that was available and didn't have to be prepared. A still rational part of her mind thought, How did all this get here? I didn't bring any of this. The Hogwarts House Elves, of course, this food was Hogwarts make, she recognized it, even as she crammed more of it into her mouth, barely chewing, desperate to fill her ravenous belly.

She eventually collapsed back down to the floor, satiated. She could have easily gone to sleep right there, on the hard floor, she'd done it before, but she managed to get to her feet and stagger back to the bedroom, and was asleep almost before she was under the covers.

She didn't know how much time passed before she became aware again. The terrible hunger was gone, she felt contentment now. Better than contentment. I feel good, she thought. Better than I've felt in a long time.

She sat up in bed, blinking. The room was light – summer sunlight pouring through the windows, falling on the wooden floor and the plain, comfortingly familiar furniture of the room. My room. I'm finally home.

There's strange clothing in my wardrobe, she thought, knowing that Molly had said she'd take Lupin's new clothes back here, and put them away. But the wardrobe doors were closed, and everything looked as it always had. And the clothing isn't really all that different, she thought. Except for the underwear.

She slid out of bed. She had to reach down further than she remembered before her feet hit the floor. She hadn't noticed before, when all she could think of was eating. But it always feels different when I'm recovering from a full moon, I always feel as if I'm rediscovering my body. This isn't anything new.

She went into the bathroom. Her strange, new, female things were there, and their male counterparts had been placed in a cardboard box by the door – I'll have to throw everything out later today. One final good-bye. And a smug thought, I don't have to shave. Her new body felt odd in the shower, and she ran her fingers through her long hair, but she knew it would not feel strange for long.

She dressed, choosing old clothes that Molly had modified rather than her new things; she wanted the comfortable and familiar around her today.

She wandered out to the hall, and into the sitting room. Everything was still there: the old sofa, the worn chairs, the huge fireplace. She felt a little out of balance, everything looked just slightly too large, and when she sat down on the sofa, it hit her more quickly than she remembered. It's because I'm shorter, that's all. I'll get used to it. She found she wanted to curl up on the sofa, and she drew her legs up. Yes, this is more comfortable. It must have something to do with wider hips. I liked the chair better, as a man, but women like sofas.

The house wasn't completely normal, she noted. There wasn't a spec of dust anywhere. And she smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen. She went in, and saw, on the counter, a bowl filled with what looked like stew, a hunk of bread, and a pitcher of milk. A glass and appropriate silverware were set neatly beside them. The Hogwarts House Elves were definitely back again.

She carried everything over to the kitchen table and sat down. What time was it? She looked at the clock, which read a little after one. What day was it? She stood up and looked out at the front door. Two copies of the Daily Prophet lay before it. She picked them up and glanced at the date while she carried them back to the kitchen. Monday and Tuesday's editions. So it was Tuesday today. She'd slept for over twenty-four hours, other than her gorging session. Which wasn't bad, considering she was still recovering. And next full moon, she wouldn't need to recover at all, she'd be completely well.

She set the papers down and scanned them while she ate. Delores Umbridge's picture was in each edition. Lupin's eyes narrowed at the sight of her. However, the accompanying articles all said that werewolves were signing up for the program in greater numbers than the Ministry had even hoped, enough to fill the hospital ward for months to come, and that was worth the sight of Umbridge's face. That was worth everything.

She read the papers and then dozed through the afternoon. She awoke to another set of smells from the kitchen. She glanced at the clock – a little before seven. A check in the kitchen showed more food. A lot more food, actually, and table settings for two. For two?

As if on queue, there was a whoosh of flames in fireplace back in the sitting room. She peeked through the doorway, and saw Snape's head floating above the grate, his pale skin and black hair contrasting weirdly with the green flames.

"Lupin," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Hello, Severus," Lupin said. "I'm much better."

Severus's body materialized below his head, and he stepped out of the fireplace into the sitting room, shaking ashes off his black robes. He was carrying a hamper. "Are you feeling well enough for tonight?" he said.

Lupin blinked. Tonight? Then her brain clicked. "Oh, my goodness, I completely forgot. It's Ariadne, at Covent Garden, isn't it."

"We can postpone to another night, if you'd rather." Snape took a step back toward the fireplace.

"Oh, no, no, that will be wonderful," Lupin said. "Just what I need, in fact."

Snape held up the hamper. "I believe you requested butterbeer."

Lupin grimaced. "I'm sorry, I probably should stay away from anything even remotely alcoholic."

"Ah. Then it's a good thing I brought non-alcoholic cider as well." Snape carried the hamper into the kitchen.

Lupin went to the mirror over the fireplace, and spoke the invoking words. The shiny surface began to swirl. It wasn't time for the show to start, so when the picture formed, it showed a view of closed curtains, and empty seats.

She turned and saw Severus carrying two mugs. Behind him floated two plates covered with food, silverware, and glasses of water. He gestured with a hand, and the floating articles settled down on the coffee table. Lupin sat on the sofa, and he set a mug by her, then sat down in his usual chair.

"I see the Hogwarts House Elves are still watching out for you," Snape said, as he picked up his plate.

Lupin flushed. "I told Dumbledore they needed to stop, but they seem to have come back. Not that I'm not grateful. I think I would have starved when I first woke up if they hadn't filled the larder." She sighed inwardly. "I'll tell them to stop once I'm better."

"You should let them continue, Remus," Snape said, eyes severe.

Lupin frowned. She opened her mouth to answer, but Snape went on, "The Ministry owes you a great deal, considering what you've just been through. They can easily spare some extra food from Hogwarts. I'm sure Dumbledore will agree with me."

Lupin's frown grew deeper, but she said nothing. Drop it, she thought. I'll speak to Dumbledore about it later.

"Remus, I know that look," Snape said. "You are far too stubborn for your own good when it comes to accepting help from other people."

"And you aren't?" Lupin cocked an eyebrow.

Snape frowned, then he looked at her and gave a half-smile. "Perhaps you can set me a better example." He took a bite, swallowed, and said, "You place too great an importance on money, Remus."

"That's because I don't have any," Lupin said.

"A great injustice. It has nothing to do with your abilities, or your worth. Or what you give to others," Snape said gently. "All your friends know this."

"Oh, yes," Lupin said. "'Poor, helpless Remus.'" Lupin looked down at the plate of food in front of her, and suddenly didn't want any.

"Your determination to refuse all assistance goes beyond reason."

Lupin set the plate down on the table. "All I want is to be independent. And I seem to be completely incapable of being so."

"Because no one is," said Snape. "You taught me that."

Lupin stared into her lap, avoiding Snape's eyes, though she could feel them on her. For a moment, she felt a lump rising in her throat, but only for a moment. I'm still tired, she thought. "So, am I really being silly?" she said quietly.

"Immensely," Snape said. "Eat your dinner. You have fairly earned it."

She took a deep breath, and picked up her plate. She mechanically took a bite. It didn't taste as good as it had before.

"Try the cider," Snape said.

She picked up the mug, feeling its warmth spread into her fingers. She breathed in the smell. It was wonderful. There was more than just apple juice in there, she could make out cinnamon and cloves, and other things. She took a sip, and the mixture of sweet, sour, and spices filled her mouth and slipped easily down her throat.

She looked back at Snape. "It's delicious. Did you make it?"

Snape nodded.

"I never knew you could cook," said Lupin. "Although I expect this is nothing for a Potions Master."

She drank a few more swallows of the cider. It did make her feel better.

"Remus," Snape said carefully, "Arthur Weasley has been telling me about his latest actions at the Ministry."

Just the thought of Snape being careful made Lupin suspicious, and she put the mug down.

"The Ministry has already made the formal arrangements. Arthur is planning to tell you later this week. I am telling you now. You will have to pretend to act surprised when you see him."

Lupin could only stare.

Snape continued. "The Ministry is going to pay you a settlement in recompense for what happened to you. A pension, for the rest of your life."

Lupin blinked.

"It won't be much," said Snape, "but it will provide a living. Given your frugality, you should manage on it reasonably well." Snape sipped at his cider mug.

"A pension," Lupin said. "But I'm capable of working. I was hoping for a job - "

"You aren't going to get one. The Ministry hasn't opened up so much that they will hire a werewolf. The prejudices aren't going to vanish overnight." Snape looked directly at her. "Arthur thinks, and I agree, that this isn't nearly enough, given everything you have done for the Ministry, and for all Wizard-Kind, over your lifetime. It's simply the best that can be arranged."

Lupin stared into her lap. "I don't know what to say."

Snape's ugly smile crossed his face. "That is why I am telling you now, I knew how you would react." He raised an eyebrow. "Arthur has worked very hard on this for you. He expects you to be happy. He and Molly plan to invite you over for dinner as soon as you're up to it, and tell you then. It is meant to be a celebration."

"And you're worried I'll be an ungrateful boor about it?"

Snape said nothing, but he held up his cider mug in a mock toast before taking a swallow.

Now I feel miserable again, thought Lupin.

"You'll feel better about it, once you get used to the idea," Snape said. "Eat your dinner."

Lupin gave him a look, then shrugged, and drank another swallow of cider. It really was good, she could feel its warmth spread through her body. There's probably more in here than just apples and spices, she thought. It would be just like him to put something else into it – could a Potions Master resist?

As if reading her mind, Snape said, "There's nothing in there to worry about, Remus. It has no more power than an herbal tea."

Lupin flushed. "I'm sorry." Although there are some powerful herbal teas out there, she thought, though it couldn't be too strong if he was drinking it himself. Or could it – he's on anti-depressants after all. But did it really matter? She took another swallow. "I've just had a lot of people lately deciding things for my own good. They've been right, of course, but . . ." She shrugged.

"I do understand." He looked coolly at her as he said that.

"Yes, you would, wouldn't you. We certainly have done that to you. Have you ever forgiven us? For turning you into a dog, without asking you?"

Snape stared a moment longer. "Mostly. I would not be alive today, if you had not done so."

"But there's still some resentment, isn't there."

Snape shrugged, then leaned back in his chair. "Overall, I am extremely grateful, Remus. You know that."

"At least I've had the option to say no, most of the time. It's more than we gave you."

"You couldn't give that to me. I understand." Snape took another swallow of cider. "And did you really have the option to say no? Could you have refused to be the first one through the treatment? With so much at stake?"

"I wouldn't have been forced if I'd refused. And it wasn't anyone's fault that I really was the only one." Lupin shrugged. "And, overall, I am extremely grateful."

Snape looked back at her over the top of his cider mug, and said nothing. Just those black eyes staring out of his pale face.

Then his eyes slid sideways. "I believe the program is about to start."

"Oh," Lupin said, looking up to see the theater now full, and the lights dimming. She quickly gestured at the mirror, and the sound came up.

It wasn't until the cast was on stage that she realized the irony of seeing Ariadne.

"Is there some significance to the female in male attire?" Snape asked. "Is she in disguise?"

"Um, that's called a 'trouser role,'" Lupin said. "It's a male character, played by a female actress. A lot of young male roles were written to be played by adult women. Someone who had more performing skill than a young boy would have." Not to mention that a lot of male audience members found the sight of a pretty woman in trousers titillating, though I'll be damned if I say that out loud. And another thought, I would have considered her very attractive, before. And she is attractive, no question, I just don't feel the same way about it.

I'm going to have to rediscover all my favorite heroines, I suppose, she thought wistfully. Will I fall in love with the heroes instead? She couldn't tell from this show, Ariadne didn't really have any wonderful heroes, at least not in the first act, although there were some attractive secondary leads. Nothing that made her heart flutter, though. Not that Lupin's heart had been fluttering over anyone for a very long time.

"This is extremely silly," Snape commented as the curtain went down on the first act.

"Yes," said Lupin. "It's an odd second act, too."

Snape stood up. A flick of his wand, and the empty dishes, Lupin's included, rose into the air, and followed him into the kitchen. He came back after a few minutes, cider mugs refilled, and two more plates floating behind him.

"A large pie has appeared on the counter, did you know?" he said as he sat down. He directed one of the plates over to her, along with a mug.

"It wasn't there before, someone must have put it there while we were watching the show."

"They're probably serving dessert at Hogwarts now, someone sent some over to you at the same time." Snape ate a forkful. "The House Elves always did like you. Feel free to invite me over to share whenever you like."

"You're welcome any time," Lupin said. "You don't mind being reminded of the place?"

"Not the food," Snape said. "Even if it weren't a choice between this or doing my own cooking."

"Ah, yes, you're doing your own housekeeping now. How's that working out for you?"

Snape grimaced. "If any Hogwarts House Elf chose to look after me, I wouldn't complain."

"It is nice, I'll grant you that," Lupin said.

Snape ate another bite of pie and chewed thoughtfully. Then he put the plate down in his lap, and said, "I sent word today. I'm taking the job. Both jobs."

"Working with Professor Begay?" I'd completely forgotten. She felt ashamed. Too wrapped up in my own problems.

"And for St. Mungo's. I asked to delay until I can find a proper workplace and set up. The flat's too small, I'll have to rent space elsewhere."

"I'm glad," said Lupin. "Your skills are too valuable to waste."

Snape pursed his lips. There was a time when he would have preened at that praise – the traditional dark lord was always susceptible to flattery – but he merely nodded.

"I'll be happy to help you with moving and setting up," Lupin said. "I'm don't exactly have much to keep me occupied these days. Particularly if I don't have to worry about scrounging a living anymore."

"I would appreciate it. I would enjoy your company, at the very least."

Orchestra music sounded from the mirror, and they both turned to watch the theater lights dim, and the curtain rise as the second act began.

Lupin found she had a hard time focusing on the performance, though she was not bored or restless. Quite the contrary, she felt content. Her eyes wandered around the room, re-acquainting herself with everything there. As often as not, she found herself looking at Snape, as he sat in his chair. Just as he always did – maintaining a proper distance away from her. No matter how close they would get to each other when either was in animal form, as human males they had never moved within touching distance.

Was he happy, about working? Was happy the right word? She looked closely at his face, but, as usual, it was impossible to tell anything. He seemed caught by the singers, but that wasn't unusual. Lupin had discovered Snape's attraction to music a long time ago, though this would probably be a little light for his tastes, which ran more to heavy opera (those dark lord tendencies again).

Even his body language betrayed nothing more than interest in the show. No emotion whatsoever. What must it be like, to have schooled one's self to show nothing? Betray nothing? Even shielding his thoughts. His life had depended on his ability to do this. Or was that the wrong way round? Had he survived because he could do this already, even before he joined Voldemort? Where the only emotion he could safely show was rage?

She was looking at him openly now. If he turns, he'll see pity on my face, and he won't like that. But she couldn't look away. You still manage to break my heart, Severus. Strange creature that you are, with your great nose, and your deathly pale skin, and your black robes up to your chin and down to your toes, hiding everything.

There was a time when she'd considered him ugly, though a lot of his poor appearance was rooted in his depression. He had improved in the past nine months, no question. His teeth had been fixed by Madame Pomfrey last summer, and while his smile wasn't going to land him on the cover of Witch Weekly, there was nothing off-putting there anymore. His hair looked much better, too – Madame Pomfrey said his hair had reacted to his own feelings of poor self-worth. He still did little with it other than to reluctantly pull it back on formal occasions, but it was no longer repellant – quite the contrary, it looked like Sev-the-Dog's hair, and she knew how silky that felt.

Didn't I say once that I was going to get him out of black robes and into a pair of jeans? Snape had managed to avoid that – not even work for the Order had provided a situation that required him to don any Muggle clothes, much less jeans. And he didn't go to the International Quiddich matches, or walk among Muggles on the street, or venture out of wizard territory in any other way. No, she'd never seen him in anything, but plain, black robes, though his natural elegance made them seem of finer stuff than they actually were. Even now, just sitting in the chair, legs stretched out, hands draped over the chair arms, he was as elegant as a cat.

No, he wasn't ugly. Just strange. Black and white. Mostly black – a great, dark form, with his white face and hands floating ghost-like between his hair and robes. But it's the robes, isn't it, that makes that mass of black. He's all white skin under there.

Where did that come from? She'd never thought anything like that before about him; it felt like an invasion of his privacy. And yet, looking at him, the thought came again, of thin, pale limbs and torso, beneath the folds of black cloth.

I need to look away, she thought. And as that thought flashed into her mind, before she could act on it, Snape turned and met her eyes with his own. She blinked, and turned back to the performance in the mirror, careful not to look away too quickly. She felt his eyes on her for some time afterwards. Well, I was looking at him, he can look at me. I've certainly changed a lot, and he has to get used to that.

Snape rose when the cast was making their final bows. He went to the kitchen and returned with re-filled cider mugs. "This time, there is something more in it," he said as he handed hers back to her. "A healing potion recommended by St. Mungo's. It could have a sedative effect."

She took the mug from him, and, as she did so, her fingers touched his. More than briefly. He did not pull away, and neither did she. She looked up – was there concern in his face? Dammit, it was impossible to read him. That fairy tale villain's face, hovering just above hers. Telling me he's spiked my drink.

"Thank you, Severus," she said. He released the mug into her hands, and sat back down in his chair.

Keeping a proper distance, still, she thought, as she took a deep swallow. She tried to sense the potion in the drink, but couldn't detect anything. She looked back at Snape, who was watching her in his chair. Keeping a proper distance. Mustn't touch each other. Not when we're people.

I was in his lap just yesterday morning, she suddenly thought. My head, anyway. Against his belly. And his thighs. And what else? Goodness, I think the potion is going to my head.

She set the mug down on the table, her head wobbling. Snape was immediately by her, taking her arm, helping her stand. She started to say, I'm fine, I can make it by myself, and then stopped herself. I like him taking my arm, she thought, I like leaning on him. Snape had always been taller than Lupin, even when Lupin was a man. In her sleepy haze, his shoulder looked very inviting, just the right height to rest her head on. But too far away, he had a careful hold of her elbow as he guided her down the hallway. Ever the proper gentleman.

A proper gentleman couldn't help her out of her clothes, even if Snape had helped male Lupin into his nightshirt more than once in the past. She saw him stiffen even as he entered the bedroom. I suppose it's a lady's bedroom now, she thought. She wanted to say, It's just me, it's still me, just Remus. Instead, she smiled at him, and said, "Thank you, Severus. I can manage from here, I think."

She held onto his arm, though. "Thank you, for coming by this evening. As always, I enjoyed your company."

Snape stood at his full height, and looked at her, his arm still supporting her. He brought up his other hand, and laid cool fingers on her arm for a long moment, before he lowered both arms and took a step back, nodding his head in a slight bow. His eyes stayed on hers the whole time, and she couldn't look away.

Then he stepped back to the door. "I'll let myself out," he said. "Good night, Remus." Her last sight of him was his hand and black sleeve as he pulled the door shut. His white hand, she thought. And there's a white arm under that black sleeve, leading to white shoulders, and . . .

I have got to get to bed, she thought, shaking her head. She heard the soft whoosh of flames in the sitting room, as Snape flooed back to his flat, and then she felt the silence of the house around her. She quickly pulled off her robes, put on her nightshirt, and slid into bed. Any more unsettling thoughts were quickly overcome by Snape's potion, and she was asleep within minutes.

TBC