Fanfiction based in the world of Harry Potter, created by JKR. Her characters are hers. Original characters are mine. No pecuniary rewards. Please see first chapter for full disclaimers and description.

Thank you to my Beta, Elaine!

Chapter 37: Seeking Equilibrium

He carefully stored the scrapbook in his own chambers, securing it with wards and enchantments as though it was the most valuable thing he had ever owned; as indeed it was. He then unpacked the Pensieve and headed to the Headmaster's office.

"Severus, I'm glad to see you've returned safely. I was quite concerned." Albus immediately set aside the parchment upon which he was writing and stood to greet Severus at the door. The Potion's Master silently handed Albus the Pensieve.

"Thank you. I had not thought I would have need of this, but I was grateful for it when it arrived," he said placidly, not meeting the headmaster's eyes.

"How are you?" Albus asked, accepting the shallow stone basin without taking his worried gaze off of the younger man's face.

Severus snorted and turned away, running his hand distractedly across the back of one of Albus's wing-backed chairs. "I have finally come to realize that there are some risks worth taking, no matter what. That revolting cliché, 'it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all', is horribly, utterly correct. This 'epiphany' comes to me just in time for me to realize that it is likely too late for me to repair the mistakes I've made. Considering all of that, I'm doing as well as can be expected. Better than I deserve."

"It's never too late my boy, not as long as we draw breath. It's never too late to start a new chapter in our lives. It just takes extra effort."

"I don't know how. I don't even know where to begin," he said, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

"At the beginning is usually a good place," said Albus, smiling mischievously. "By the way, Remus Lupin would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

"Splendid. The perfect ending to the perfect Holiday. Good evening then, Headmaster," Severus said, not having once met the eyes of the man who had been more of a father to him than his 'real' father had ever been. When he turned to leave, Albus stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, and Severus could not avoid the soul-searching gaze.

"Your mother loved you very much. I'm glad to see you finally coming to accept that. There are more people than you might think that would love you, Severus, if only you would let them."

Before he had experienced his dramatic, traumatic 'homecoming', Severus might have scoffed at this statement. Coming from Albus, he might have only protested that allowing people close to him was too dangerous to their safety. Now, he simply had no answer.

It was dangerous to associate with him, by virtue of his own choices that he had made in his life. It was very difficult for him to allow those few people who understood that danger to make their own decisions. He had no right to try and 'rob' others of whatever pleasure they might get in love—even if they mistakenly chose to love him.

Why couldn't he have discovered all this a few months before?

He knew why, of course—because he hadn't been looking for answers before now. He didn't want to have to deal with the pain and the realizations that he was now facing.

"Thank you, Albus," he said sincerely, "I will endeavor to make the attempt."

Albus squeezed his shoulder gently before dropping his hand. He smiled warmly at Severus and watched silently as the young man left the room in a swirling flutter of his black robes.

Lupin was sitting in almost the precise spot he had occupied two weeks before, sans blanket and looking less wan. Severus stepped through the floo with a minimum of soot and fanfare. His dark eyes raked the werewolf critically and found him to be looking, if anything, more obnoxiously cheerful than Severus had ever seen him. Severus found this unspeakably irritating.

"The Headmaster informed me you wished to see me on some business that apparently would not wait. What is so urgent that lays claim to my valuable time?" he asked with none of the attempted cordiality that colored his voice on his previous visit.

Alarmingly, the werewolf stood and approached him, and even had the audacity to shake his hand in warm greeting, as though they were friends. "Severus, splendid to see you too," Remus said, beaming. "Won't you sit down? Tea?"

Severus resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his robes as though it had been soiled by the touch, but it was a near thing. He knew that he had been the one to make the cordial overtures the last time, and perhaps Lupin thought that invited a certain level of informality. However, he was simply not up to exerting the effort required to overcome twenty years of rather beloved habit where the werewolf was concerned; not today at any rate.

His earlier interest in friendship was currently deeply buried under fatigue and private turmoil. Clearly learning the art of friendship was something that would take Snape a great deal of time and effort to develop. Perhaps something akin to the effort Neville Longbottom would need to create a difficult potion. That is to say, nigh on impossible

Severus slowly arched one brow in an expression of supreme disdain, "Lupin, I am in no humor for the friendship rituals today. Do tell me what is so urgent and allow me to take my leave."

"Ah, I see. No tea then. Firewhiskey? Or perhaps a nice brandy? I have something very important to talk to you about, Severus, and even a favor of sorts to ask. It'd be easier if you'd at least pretend to be trying to listen?" He waved at the chair that was the companion to the one he had been sitting in when Severus arrived.

Severus sighed irritably through his nose but did at last take the 'offered' chair. "No beverages, thank you. I was not aware that we had advanced to the point in our acquaintance where you had enough influence to be calling in favors? I believe it could be argued that I have done you enough 'favors' over the years?"

Remus mimicked the sigh and motion as he took his own chair with the animal grace the lycanthropy gave him now that he was fully recovered.

"I thought you went away to find out that things don't work that way in genuine relationships? It's not about 'owing' someone, but the camaraderie and affection that comes with true friendship."

"It is none of your business what I went away to do. You presume a great deal, Lupin, to think that even if I had learned any such thing, I would feel any level of friendship with you," he said with a sneer.

"Touché," Remus said with an incline of his head. "I would hope as future brothers-in-law and moreover almost the last of our class all those years ago, and our time together as colleagues, that we'd have some sort of understanding, Severus."

"Lupin, I am no longer engaged to your sister," he said dangerously.

"Ah… but you were Bonded with her," Remus said, grinning smugly, enjoying the surprised scowl that Severus made no attempt to conceal. "That tells me that you did love her enough for the Bonding to work, and that you must have some level of love for her still, or you'd have both died when you broke it. At least as near as I can tell from Hermione's research." He continued speaking quickly, not allowing Severus the opportunity to question the source of his information, nor to confirm or deny its accuracy.

"So I'm certain you'll be married to her again, eventually. You're both stubborn as mules; I might die of old age before that happens, but I'm sure it will."

"Is that the 'favor' you wish to ask? To try and convince me to repair my relationship with your sister?" Severus all but growled.

"Oh, no," said Remus, still smiling genially. "That was actually the threat part—I'm not very good at those apparently. It's just not in my nature. We did establish the bit about…"

"Ah, yes, the 'brotherly' duty of protector…" Severus tensed even as he thought this. His own memories of his perceived 'failure' to perform that brotherly duty for his own sister were far too fresh in his mind. Moreover, he could clearly imagine how he would feel if he were in Remus' place, more now than he ever had before. He actually wondered at Lupin's almost ridiculous level of tolerance. He didn't think he'd be so placid if their situations were reversed.

"Exactly! I'd really hate to fight with you as man or werewolf. As 'Moony', I learned first hand that Death Eaters taste terrible a few months ago. I'd rather not repeat that experience, ever if I can help it."

Severus snorted, "You've come a long way if you can joke so lightly about those deaths, no matter how deserved."

Remus shifted from playful bantering to seriousness in an instant, "Yes, actually, I have come a long way. My life has altered dramatically starting about the time that Sirius died. I've finally realized that life is too short to dwell on the past and all of those wise sayings that our elders spout off at us as kids, hoping that someday we'll understand their meaning.

"That actually brings us to the favor part. Tonks has agreed to marry me. I'd like you to stand up with me."

"WHAT?" Severus did not bother to hide his incredulity. "However did you possibly come up with the idea to ask ME to do this thing? You have plenty of friends, choose one of them."

Leaning back in his chair more comfortably, and smiling at his 'victory'—for surely if Severus intended to refuse he would have already done so—Remus calmly contradicted him.

"There're lots of people who like me, and who I like back, sure. But most of my true 'friends' are gone. Think about it. Of the people we hung out with in school, who's left? I'm the last Gryffindor from my class except Peter. You've got a few more Slytherins. We got on well enough in school, you and me, until Sirius pulled his stunt. We've had our differences, I realize. The thing is, Severus, in a lot of ways, you're all that's left of my peers, my contemporaries who were a vital part of the formative years of my life.

"You don't have to do the 'best man' speech or anything. Harry's already asked if he could do that. He'll be one of my groomsmen as well. He's not of age, yet, though, so he can't witness the marriage and sign the license. I'd like you to be my Best Man."

Severus stood and went to the cupboard in the corner, retrieving two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid. He sniffed the liquid almost delicately, glared at the bottle a moment, and seemed to find it adequate, as he poured two equal measures and returned to his chair. He set one of the glasses on the coffee table near Remus and leaned back in his chair, staring silently at the brandy as he swirled it in his glass. Only after several swallows of the drink and a long period of silence, did he answer. He seemed to have left his snark at the liquor cabinet.

"Lupin, I am very cognizant of the honor you offer, and I appreciate the… display of confidence or whatever this is. I assure you it is unnecessary. I give you my word that I will do my utmost to spare your sister additional grief where I am concerned. It is not necessary to try and protect her by attempting to be 'nice' to me. Let Potter be your Best Man. You know as well as I do that witness signatures are not necessary—it's an old formality."

"I'm not doing this for Rowena. I'm doing it for me. It might be an old formality, but it's traditional, and Tonks wants a traditional wedding with all the trimmings. I intend to make sure she gets it."

"So you are done hiding then?" A traditional wedding with all the 'trimmings' would hardly allow Remus to continue to be believed dead.

"Yes. That was my other concern. When I'm discovered alive, I don't imagine Voldemort will be very pleased."

Severus snorted at the understatement. "He is prepared to hear of it, though. I have told Lucius that no one was shown a body, and that I did not believe your sister to be 'grieving' much for the death of a brother. I told him that I believed your father to have sent for a Potions Master from the Orient—their methods are utterly different from ours. I do not believe I will be overly suspect at this juncture."

Not that the Dark Lord could be depended on to vent his displeasure only on the parties 'to blame'.

"I don't want to keep hiding, but I will if it's too dangerous for you," Remus continued as though Severus hadn't spoken. His tone betrayed his concern. "Albus will be doing the ceremony, and only Order Members will be invited. No one outside of the Order needs to know you were there. But when Tonks files the license at the Ministry, well…. We've talked about it already, and she's agreed to have Albus keep the license, not to file it so that it doesn't have to become public knowledge. I wouldn't want my happiness to immediately cause you problems."

Severus sipped again from his drink, regarding Remus thoughtfully. He still found it difficult to believe that other people might be genuinely concerned for his safety. It was one more thing to add to all the other strange facets of the 'softer' emotions that he was still trying to understand. However he was not willing to allow the lycanthrope to make sacrifices on his behalf. It still felt too much like being in his 'debt'.

"Do not stay in this repugnant habitation a day longer than necessary on my accord. It would certainly be leaked eventually, and the situation would only be worse for the delay. File the license as soon as the thing is complete, as any other revoltingly happy newlyweds would do," he said.

"Alright, then," Remus said, grinning once again. "So? Will you do it?"

"Stand up with Dumbledore's werewolf at his marriage to an Auror with Harry Potter on the other side and Dumbledore himself officiating? That must be the fondest wish of many a Death Eater. Please tell me this blessed event is occurring at Hogwarts, because nowhere else would be safe from outright attack."

"Of course at Hogwarts, in the Great Hall."

"Very well, Lu…" he stopped and corrected himself. "Remus. I will stand with you at your marriage. Unless you find someone more suitable between now and then."

"Excellent! Do you have time for a game of chess? I know you said you were very busy."

Severus shrugged and turned his glass in his hand so the firelight glinted off the crystal and the liquid within. "For a while, though I doubt I will be able to stay to the game's completion. I wouldn't wish to waste decent brandy."

Remus laughed his agreement. "It's one of the few decent things in this place, but the wine cellar is full of all sorts of good potables."

"You don't say?" He asked in feigned boredom. He then immediately embarked on the real reason he had agreed to stay. He wanted information.

"How did Granger find out about the Bonding?" Severus asked abruptly as Remus was setting up the board.

"Rowena asked her to do some research on it; only she told Hermione that she thought there might be some useful information for breaking the Protean Charm. I heard Hermione talking about it with Harry when they came to visit on the first day of break. It's a good thing that I heard that conversation, actually. When Rowena visited the next day, I had a suspicion of what was going on and didn't rush her straight to St. Mungo's." Remus held out his closed fists, but Severus didn't 'choose' right away.

"What happened to Rowena?" he asked sharply.

"She spent the Easter Holiday sobbing buckets on the drawing room couch, that's what," said Remus seriously. "She was having odd dreams she wouldn't tell me about and would burst into uncontrollable weeping for no reason at all and just wouldn't stop. She's not normally anywhere near that emotional. I'd have suspected a student tampering with a love potion or something if I hadn't heard Hermione talking.

"Choose?" he said, still holding his hands out. Severus chose the left hand with a nod, black. He remained silent for a time, frowning at the board.

"Is that why you told the Headmaster where I had gone?" he asked at last as Remus made the first move of the game. He hadn't inquired of the Headmaster how he had known that Severus might have need of his Pensieve, but now it was obvious.

"Yes. I didn't know where you had gone until Rowena mentioned it. I wasn't trying to interfere, Severus. I apologize for making any presumptions. But I admit that I was concerned. If my fairly stoic sister was all but hysterical just picking up… whatever it was she was feeling, then I sort of figured that things might be difficult for you. I thought Albus was the best person to know what—if anything—could be done to help you."

Severus didn't answer, and the game progressed in silence for several rounds.

"Thank you," Severus said at last, leaning away from the board again and looking directly at Remus. Once again he was on unfamiliar territory, yet he felt the gesture needed some acknowledgement. Remus had not made mockery of where he was or what he was doing, as doubtless he could have with Order Members in and out of Headquarters often enough. He had also understood Severus at least enough to know the one person who would know the 'right' way to answer his need at that time.

Aside from those from Rowena and the Headmaster himself, it was one of the few unselfish acts anyone had ever done for him, and he was not untouched by it.

"I am not accustomed to having people be concerned for my whereabouts for any benevolent reason. The Headmaster's intervention was welcome. I… thank you."

Remus grinned. He might have brushed off the thanks as unnecessary, as indeed it was, and Remus was not normally comfortable in receiving praise for things that he felt anyone ought to have done. However, he knew that Severus was even less comfortable accepting such gestures, no matter how trivial, and Remus did not want to minimize the effort Severus had just made to offer him thanks to begin with.

"Sure, Severus, no problem. That's what friends are for. I'm glad it helped."

Severus said nothing in response to this, though he was quite certain that one of the downsides of learning to manage the 'friendship' association was learning to tolerate the many insipid variations of that hackneyed phrase, "That's what friends are for." He wondered if it wouldn't become obnoxious enough for him to seriously reconsider the endeavor entirely.

He was grateful that the staff-housing corridor was utterly invisible to students. He noticed a few years before that the corridor wasn't even on that blasted Map that Potter had, so apparently even the Fabulous Four had not managed to break that particular security enchantment. He found himself yet again facing the cold, uninviting emptiness that was her door. He rapped twice and stepped back, waiting.

Rowena's appearance was not welcoming when she opened the door, standing in the slight opening to look at him inquiringly. Her eyes seemed red and puffy, and her honeyed complexion was wan and blotchy.

"Professor Snape," she said coolly. "What is it?"

He didn't know if he was more taken aback by her appearance and the distress clearly written there, or by her cold greeting. Not that he deserved anything more, but he had rather expected something a bit less… icy. Moreover, the constant ache in his chest had become a savage, stabbing pain from the instant she opened the door, as though to remind him of all his many faults and mistakes where she was concerned.

"I would like a word, Professor Lupin, if it is not too inconvenient?"

She looked for a moment as though she would merely shut the door in his face, and he wondered if she was feeling anything akin to the pain that he was currently suffering. She stepped aside, though, and allowed the door to swing open enough for him to enter. She turned her back to him and walked to her fire, where she stood rigidly, her arms crossed.

"A word only, then," she said to the fire. "What is it?"

When Remus had told him that she had been distressed in his absence, he had felt that it was imperative that he come and see her as soon as possible. What he thought he might accomplish by the gesture, he couldn't have said. What had seemed like the only possible choice at the time, now seemed like an incredibly bad idea. Was her physical discomfort intensifying by the second, as his was? She was in enough physical pain that she had asked GRANGER to help her research solutions. He'd caused all this, and now thought that perhaps his presence was like pouring vinegar into the wound.

Yet now that he was here, he couldn't just leave. He closed the door and moved with his soundless grace to stand just behind her, almost close enough to feel her warmth. "I've just seen your brother. He mentioned that you were out of sorts during the holiday. I merely wanted to ascertain your condition…"

"How dare you?" she hissed, spinning on her heel to face him, her face already damp with tears. "How dare you come here now and pretend to care how I am?"

She made a sound halfway between a scream and a sob and began pounding against his chest with her small fists as though beating down a brick wall.

He was too shocked at first to say or do anything. Then he was too horrified and shamed to try and prevent her from inflicting her rage upon him. Somehow, in between the flailing fists, he recognized that the consuming ache inside him caused by the severed Bond had eased from the moment she first struck him. This caused him to remember the one other time he had experienced significant relief of that ache—when she had hugged him after her brother was healed in the hospital.

He did the only thing that made sense, and opened his arms to pull her close, even as she continued to try and hit him. Those efforts were also becoming more and more ineffectual as she went from raging to sobbing in short order. When his arms enfolded her, she was reduced to fractured, gasping sobs against his chest, her fingers splayed out against him as though she could not decide whether to try to shove him away or claw out his heart.

Nothing was said for a long, long time. Neither moved. He did not even caress her back or make any attempt to soothe; nor any attempt to pull her closer or let her go. He merely held her against him, leaning his chin against her hair, and let her cry as though each tear were precious, able to somehow wash away the pain and mistakes so they could start afresh.

That was not to be, of course.

When she stopped crying, she pushed away from him roughly and he released her instantly. She crossed her arms and flopped into a chair facing the fire. Her breath still came with the occasional shuddering gasp of one that has wept very hard, but her eyes regarded him with flat impassivity.

"I'm fine. Get out."

"Rowena, I would like to discuss this," he said as he sat in the chair opposite.

"Your trip home was difficult," she said, still maintaining her impassivity. Still, he was encouraged that she had neither refused to talk with him nor thrown him out.

"Yes. Exceedingly."

She merely stared at him and made no further overtures to conversation. The Snitch was firmly in his court, and if he did not catch it quickly, it would be gone, perhaps forever.

"I do not require you or Albus or your brother to tell me that I've done a spectacular job of utterly destroying the best thing that has ever happened to me. I've had very little true control in my life, and those times when I did have the option to make a decision wholly on my own, I've shown an uncannily Potter-like ability to make the utterly inappropriate choice."

He stood up and walked to her fireplace, resting his arm on her mantle. It was not encouraging that her enlarged photograph of the Hogwarts landscape in which the boy Severus sat beneath the beech tree was gone from its place of honor over the fire.

"I've never allowed myself to become close to anyone emotionally, Rowena. Not before you, not since my mother died. Even in the case of my mother, for many years before she was killed I was shutting myself off from her. I didn't realize it then, but I do now. Hiding from those emotions, in my belief, was the only way to avoid pain, weakness, manipulation."

He tapped his fingers against the mantle, trying to find words to explain himself, something that might open the door that he had broken.

"If I could do things over, differently, with us, I would not have married you as I did. I must not be the weakness in the Order. I must not allow my feelings for you to endanger you, or me, or to be a tool by which the Dark Lord is able to break me at last. I do not have the same luxuries as any other man.

"I have made horrible choices in the past, done horrible, horrible things. The only way I can begin to make some small reparation for that depravity is through the Order. I cannot do that if I am weak or distracted.

"If I had the chance to do things differently with you, I would take my time. I would appreciate every moment that we might share together—but I would not marry you or Bond with you until I could come to you as a free man, with no ties or obligations to anyone else. You deserve nothing less." He snorted in self-derision. "I suppose it would be accurate to use this as an example of what a bloody mess I make of things when I allow myself to be influenced by my emotions."

He turned away from the mantle then, to look at her, trying to gauge her reaction to what he'd said. Her Occlumency, at least without his wand, had become nearly perfect. He could read nothing of her emotions, though she blinked and looked away quickly.

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," she said dismissively. "What's done is done. You are free of any obligations to me in any case. What use is there in telling me this now?"

"Trust me, Rowena, I know all about the road to Hell," he said dryly. "I would like the opportunity to endeavor to make amends. I don't know if the damage I have done is irreparable, but I would like to find out. One way or the other."

"Do you hear yourself speaking?" she asked with bored exasperation, still staring past his legs into the fire. "You… you… you… you… This is all about what you want and how you feel. You're finally rediscovering your more intense emotions. Bully for you. At what point in this equation do you consider MY feelings? I loved you. I didn't care about the war or danger or any of that. I only wanted to be with you. I didn't even care if you married me, if only I could be with you for whatever time we had. We're in an effing WAR, Severus. Do you think after watching my brother grieve the loss of his friends over and over that I'm ignorant of what happens in a war?

"You wouldn't have married me until you were 'free'. How very touching. So, if you died in your very dangerous dual-role, I suppose I would have been comforted to carry the memory of your 'honor' to my own grave.

"I understand the bit about manipulation… I didn't want to be a weakness to you, either. I'd have been happy to sneak around so that not even Dumbledore knew we were together. We could have discussed options. We're two fairly intelligent people. I would think that we could have come up with viable alternatives.

"But you left me out of the decision making process at almost every turn. Even in your fantasy 'what if' just now, you don't include me; you don't consider any of my thoughts or feelings in the matter.

"I'm not interested in being an obligation or a burden or a weakness. At one time I was exceedingly interested in being an equal partner in good times and bad, sickness and health, all that rot. You may congratulate yourself in finally disabusing me of that romanticism. I thought love could overcome any obstacles. I don't honestly know what I believe anymore. I do know that I was bored and lonely before you came into my life—but I was never this bloody miserable."

She finally looked back at him, her brown eyes as flat and dull as her apathetic tone.

"I just don't care, Severus. You do what you want to do—you're going to anyway. I'm not going to try and stop you. I've got to save what little energy I have for Katrina, for my family."

Her apathy terrified him as much as anything he had ever faced. He realized the accuracy of her accusations. In his habitual self-preservation, he had not considered her in the decisions he had made. Even when he thought he was protecting her, he was doing so to protect himself from the pain he would feel if something happened to her.

This was a very convoluted thing, this learning to love someone properly.

Like a true Slytherin, he found the one loophole in her words, and clung to the hope it inspired. She did not care any more what he did, certainly not enough to seek him out or attempt to have any sort of relationship with him. However, she also was too apathetic to refuse to allow him to make the effort.

Severus was used to hopeless battles. In one sense, the hopelessness was a comforting familiarity. To fight a losing battle against overwhelming odds with little chance of success or reward was one thing with which Severus knew how to cope very well.

He moved away from the fire to sit on the sofa on the end nearest her chair.

"You are correct, Rowena. Discussion might have prevented my egregious mistakes. It is impossible to change what has been done. We have no choice but to move on from here."

She was still looking at him with the flat expression, though there was something of wary suspicion in her air. It actually pleased him—suspicion was another thing with which he was very familiar. Suspicion at least roused her from her apathy.

"Did you find anything useful from Miss Granger about the physical discomfort?" he asked.

"No." Unconsciously her hand went to her chest and she rubbed her breastbone as though worrying at a bruise.

"Are you in a great deal of pain?"

She shrugged, the look of suspicion deepening. "It varies. Sometimes worse than others. It was very bad when you first came to the door."

He nodded in understanding. "And now?"

"Why are you asking me this?" she said, the wariness now obvious in her voice as well as her expression.

"I'm doing a bit of research on my own. It was not my intention to cause you pain, Rowena, the road to Hell not withstanding. I am trying to find a solution to provide you relief." He held out his hand to her. "Will you take my hand, just for a moment, for research purposes?"

All apathy for the moment was gone. She was looking at his outstretched hand as though it was a cobra poised to strike. He held perfectly still so as not to startle her, as one might behave with a feral kneazle one is trying to tame. Her eyes flicked back and forth from his face to his hand in distrustful indecision. When she finally laid her much smaller hand in his, he did not close his fingers upon it. He merely arched his fingers so that as much of the skin of their hands was touching as possible, his eyes never leaving her face.

From his perspective, the warm touch of her skin against his seemed like a cool, soothing balm to the burning ache inside his chest that was the severed Bond. It had been a suspicion only, and he did not know if she felt a similar relief.

"And now?" he asked softly, as though her hand in his palm was a wild bird that might take flight at the sound of his voice.

She blinked in surprise as she stared at their two hands. White teeth worried at her lower lip for a moment, and she pulled her hand away almost angrily.

"Lovely. You've won that round," she spat. "You get to cause all the pain and then be the only effective relief of it. You did say you liked to be in control. Congratulations."

He would have smiled had he not been so relieved. Not only was his suspicion correct, but he had succeeded in making her angry. Anger, in his opinion, was far easier to deal with than apathy.

He also decided this was not the time to push the issue. He stood, the motion drawing her attention once again.

"I will endeavor to see if this information can aid in our mutual relief, Professor Lupin. I will keep you informed of the progress of my research. I hope to see you at breakfast. Good evening."

He gave her a very formal bow, and let himself out of her quarters. It was all he could do not to compose a very complicated pop-quiz for his students in his head on the way to his own rooms—the Snape equivalent of whistling cheerfully through the corridors. He had no illusion that things were going to be easy by any means, but for the first time since he'd returned to Hogwarts after Malfoy's dinner party, he thought they might have a chance after all.

It was more than he deserved. He was not going to let it slip away.

A/N: Poor Severus! I'm extremely pleased with how well the story is flowing now. Elaine, my delightful Beta has Chapter 41. I am roughly guesstimating 55-ish chapters and an epilogue. My outline has 50 chapters, but some of these last ones are ending up broken into two.

Your comments, questions, and reviews mean a great deal to me, thank you so much for the warm response to my 'plea' last chapter! It is wonderful to know you are 'out there'.