See first chapter for notes and warnings.

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When classes had finished for the day, Remus walked towards the dungeons, hoping to find Severus still at work in his office. As luck would have it, he was, though the day had obviously been unkind to him. He was scowling fiercely and his robes showed signs of having been scorched by an explosion of some kind.

Glancing up, Severus waved Remus into a chair before turning back to the letter he was writing. As he wrote, he muttered a few choice phrases under his breath. Phrases that Remus hoped did not make it to the parchment he was writing on. Remus felt a brief sympathy for whomever would be receiving that particular owl.

When he finished, Severus rolled up the scroll and set it aside before rubbing his forehead and muttering, "Days like this I wonder why I ever agreed to take up this thankless position."

"I thought it was for the chance to torture an endless stream of students," Remus said mildly.

"That small pleasure hardly makes up for nearly having all my hair singed off because an idiotic student can't read the instructions properly."

"Awww," Remus said teasingly, "I think the widdle Potion's master needs a hug."

Severus glowered darkly at him. "Unless you want to live out the rest of your life as a small, lopsided turnip, you will never say that again."

Remus propped his feet up on Severus's desk and smiled innocently. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Humfh." Severus crossed his arms and scowled. "What do you want?"

"You," Remus said, with a rather exaggerated leer.

"You are in an uncommonly good mood today. I find it rather disgusting, actually."

"Yes, it's a bad habit of mind. One of many," Remus said. "I came to see if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me tonight for dinner. They're serving turkey in the Great Hall and I despise turkey."

"Fine, I will meet you outside in two hours," Severus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now go away."

Though Remus considered staying to pester Severus for a while longer, he decided not to push his luck, and felt certain that his time would be better spent trying to find a set of robes that didn't look entirely disreputable. He took his time walking back to his quarters, stopping several times to talk with students or other Professors that he met along the way.

Once in his rooms, he surveyed his wardrobe with disgust. He really needed to purchase new robes. Unfortunately, Christmas was fast approaching, and though his list was short, he knew that the gifts he had in mind would take a good chunk of his savings and leave little for new clothing.

Besides, he wanted to save as much of his income as he could for the future. Eventually the truth of his condition would be discovered, and his employment at Hogwarts would not last long once it was. Dumbledore might have full confidence in him, but Remus did not delude himself into thinking that would be enough. Few parents would be pleased to learn that their precious children were being taught by a monster. Such is life.

After dressing in his least tattered robes, and trying unsuccessfully to tame his hair, Remus poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and settled into the chair by the fireplace. Swirling the amber liquid, he mused over the subtle changes that had been taking place in his relationship with Severus. Remus still took a childish delight in tormenting the man, and Severus seemed to enjoy scowling, glaring, and yelling in return. But the open hostility had faded to be replaced by...not affection, certainly. There was still too much history between them for that. Tolerance, perhaps, and of course a healthy dose of pure primal lust.

If he was to be completely honest with himself, Remus had to admit that therein lay the appeal of this...whatever it was. He and Severus could each do with a bit more companionship in their lives, and Merlin knows they could both use a good shag, but in the end it was unlikely that true feelings would be involved. Though it might all dissolve into hexes and bloodshed, that wasn't as troubling a thought as it should have been. Those kinds of scars can be healed with the flick of a wand.

Sighing, Remus rose to his feet, his cheerful mood gone. With one last futile attempt to make his hair behave, he left to go meet Severus. Luckily everyone else was in the Great Hall taking dinner, so there was little chance that anyone would see them leave the castle together. The last thing they needed at this point in their -- whatever it was that was happening between them -- was for the Hogwarts rumour mill to catch wind of it.

When he left the castle, Remus found Severus waiting impatiently outside. He noted absently that Severus had changed his robes. Yes, they all looked exactly the same, but at least these were not singed around the edges. As he drew closer, he saw that he had also washed his hair, which still hung limply around his face even without the coating of oil and potion fumes weighing it down.

He must be planning to get lucky tonight, Remus thought with some degree of amusement.

They started off towards Hogsmeade without speaking, and though the walk was long, the silence between them did not seem uncomfortable. Remus was looking forward to a nice dinner in Hogsmeade, some conversation with Severus, and later, perhaps even something more. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

As soon as they entered the small town, Remus saw the posters. Wanted posters with Sirius's face. They were everywhere. Severus forgotten, Remus walked slowly towards the nearest poster as though in a trance.

Sirius was laughing. How could he still be laughing after all these years? Certainly the dementors would have sucked even the darkest forms of mirth from his soul after a dozen years. Behind the insane laughter, Sirius's eyes were angry, and they seemed to be fixed on Remus, cutting through him and chilling him to the bone.

Remus had to escape that angry glare, and the dreadful accusation it carried. Sirius knew the truth, and this time there would be no forgiveness.

Remus did not hear Severus yelling his name, did not feel the strong grip on his arm as he tried to pull him away from the poster. All he knew was Sirius's anger. Breaking away from Severus, he drew his wand and disapparated.