Part Four
It was foggy outside.
Draco watched the street from behind his window, one hand on the ledge and one resting on Harry's ear.
There was a weight of messy black hair in his lap, glassed eyes focused on a book.
"Wizards came over from Egypt..." the heady mass mumbled to its pillow.
"A few millennia ago," Draco confirmed, drawing upon primary-school learning. "Egypt is still the oldest repository of magic in western Europe."
"They certainly were a lot more powerful back then..."
"That's what happens when you have a very small amount of people drawing upon a very large source."
"Well, yes," Harry conceded.
"I think it was probably better back then," Draco mused, smoothing Harry's hair absent-mindedly. It was a soothing, self-perpetuating exercise: it always bounced back. "People actually believed in things, you know? Religion gave everyone something to rely on and blame and it taught people morals."
"That's idealistic," Harry scoffed. "If you look at all the wars muggles have gotten into over religion."
"That's men's fault, not the religion's."
"Not everyone is as wise as Jesus," Harry said. "And you sound like a fascist."
"Well, that's the problem with fascism, isn't it?" Draco smirked, stealing Harry's glasses and trying them on, warping the visible world. "Stupid people get in power."
"And I suppose you think you'd do much better?" Harry said snidely, rolling onto his back in a vague attempt to get his glasses back, hampered by the fact that he could barely make them out on Draco's face. "Goddamn slytherins."
"You bet."
And, unable to just sit by while Harry squinted pitifully up at him, pouting, Draco took the glasses off. Instead of giving them back to Harry, however, he held them off to the side and bent down to kiss those sulking lips.
The pleasant rush in his stomach had yet to become usual, this action yet to loose its quality. He hoped it never did, the jolt of tongues meeting, the desire, pressing them both into each other, the hands that got his hair all mussed when he caught a lip between his teeth.
He didn't want this to stop being amazing, because then he might stop valuing it and loose it.
---
They had owled him with the message an hour ago. It had taken half an hour to get to Ministry, then another half hour to fill out secrecy forms.
And now he was in Azkaban.
They had told him only that he was needed; he didn't know how or why, or where even they had heard of him.
He jerked to his feet from the rickety chair in the waiting room when finally someone came in to collect him.
"Remus James Lupin?" the black-robed figured asked, as if he wasn't the only one in the room. He nodded. They beckoned him forward and started down the hallway. The shadows played at a heavy scar, denting in the skull of the auror.
"Recently we have had a security breach involving one of our maximum security wards. You realize that this is all confidential, not to be repeated?"
He nodded again as they approached what looked like their destination: a heavy wooden door, glowing at the edges with candlelight.
"One of prisoners was severely injured, though not mortally."
Remus could see the twist of "unfortunately" in those pursed lips.
"However, it is our policy by law that when such a thing occurs, the prisoner is allowed speak with a person from outside, to settle things. We almost made an exception in his case, but the prisoner nearly strangled someone already today when they tried to put veritaserum in his drink."
The auror's lips twisted in a look of disgust and pushed a key into the door's lock. It snapped open with a loud clunk and the auror pushed the door open.
"Voldemort's supporters?" Remus said quietly. "They were trying to get him out?"
Cloaked shoulders shivered at the mention of a forbidden name. "Yes, although it looked more like..."
Remus felt his stomach clench as he saw who was lying on the white hospital bed.
"They were trying to kill him."
"If you're back with more of that truth potion then you're going to have to-"
When the door shut and Remus was left with Severus, neither of them said anything for a while. Finally, Remus summoned a chair and sat down beside the high bed.
"Hm. I wasn't sure if they were lying or not, or if they'd permit a werewolf to come into Azkaban..." Snape said mildly, struggling into a seated position.
Remus quickly grabbed one of the pillows and eased it behind Severus' back.
"Should you be moving?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.
"I'll be fine," Snape wheezed. "Well enough to be getting on with. It's not like I'm going to be missing anything."
There were bandages wrapped all around his chest, reaching up his neck. It seemed strange to see him in something other than his usual impeccable black robes.
"Why did you ask for me?"
"Who else would I ask for? There is no need to waste this opportunity for contact with the outside world."
Snape's voice sounded harsh and rough and Remus was reminded of a sudden jerk of Sirius. Were the captives of Azkaban being treated to torture to replace the dementors?
There was a silence. Remus wasn't sure whether it was uncomfortable or not.
"I should have brought you a book or a get-well card or something," he said finally.
Snape snorted. "This isn't a courtesy visit, you know, Lupin."
Remus swallowed a ball of frustration. "What is it, then, Severus?"
Another silence.
"Have you ever noticed that our generation has a habit of dying?" Snape said finally, quietly.
"Yes," Remus replied, equally quietly, shifting in his seat. Too many.
"Don't die."
Severus' eyes were on him, boring into him with what formerly was anger, now, something else.
Remus' eyes dropped and he chewed the inside of his lip.
"I'll take care of the boys as best I can, for as long as I can," he said finally.
"I guess that's the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"
Remus smiled a little tiredly in acquiescence.
"Bloody Gryffindor," Severus snorted, eyes leaving Remus' to roam the room a little deliriously.
Remus' eyes moved over Severus' revealed body, wondering what kind of injuries were under those tight white bandages, conforming and restricting a slim, almost gaunt body. Indeed, Severus' breathing seemed restricted, raspy, shuddering. A conscious effort.
"What happened?" he asked finally, when he was sure Severus wasn't going to speak first.
"You weren't told?" Severus looked surprised, in a tired sort of way. An eyebrow arched upwards, only to furrow back down again as he began coughing harshly, back and chest heaving as he bent double, trying to catch his breath.
Remus was immediately by his side, the few steps needed to close the distance made in a few seconds. His hand enclosed a loose-robed arm, the other arm wrapping around his back to hold him in place. Finally, the coughs slowed to a wheeze and Remus steadied Severus, lowering him back onto his pillow. He tried not to look at the splatters of blood on the formerly pristine sheets.
Remus was a little surprised that his helping hands weren't pushed away, so one still rested on Severus' forearm as he accio-ed his chair closer to the bedside.
Severus caught his breath slowly, eyes closed with unintended tears glistening on his eyelashes and smeared across his cheeks where he had smudged them away.
And then he tried speaking again, voice a little harsher, rougher than before.
"They attacked my cell three nights ago, somehow blew up the wall that faces the outside. There were five of them; I couldn't tell who they were. I obviously didn't have a wand... Those fools who were supposed to be guarding me were probably asleep; it took a good few minutes for them to realize what was going on and unlock the door."
"They hexed you?" Remus asked, feeling a latent anger choke him momentarily before he grew scared of it and shoved it back down again. It burned in his stomach.
Severus inclined his head in acquiescence. "A few times."
Remus bit his lip. He wasn't even sure any more how much concern he was supposed to, allowed to show. "But you'll heal?"
"Barring infection, complications or poisoning attempts, presumably I'll be fine in a few months," Severus said mildly, smiling a little. "More importantly," he continued, tone quieting. "Is the matter of my imprisonment."
Remus froze, hand tightening on Severus' arm. "You can't," he hissed, glancing over his shoulder at the shut door.
Severus' eyes narrowed, but he didn't remove his arm from Remus' grasp. "Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Lupin," he said harshly. "I am an adult, not a child, and I know fully the situation I am in. I have absolutely no desire or willingness to sit in a dank, dark cell for the rest of my living life to serve a sentence I do not deserve."
Remus eyed him apprehensively, angrily. "You want my help. That's why you asked for me to come."
"Partly," Severus said, looking away for a moment. "You are the only person I believe won't sell me out, other than Draco."
"And why would you presume that?"
Severus saw the hard set of Remus' face, the anger at being falsely drawn into this.
"You..." he started, and then looked down. It took a lot more bravery than he thought he had to say something like this. Even more than presenting his proposition for escape, this would put his face on the line. "I would like to think that you like me more than just as a colleague," he said quietly, fingers tracing the dried dots of blood on his lap.
Remus froze, deer in the headlights, spotlight on him, resolve to tell the aurors of Severus' plan collapsing.
"Well," he said finally, clearing his throat apprehensively. "Well, then, I... have to say I do. And I don't want to see you in Azkaban forever either, but..."
"But the ever-righteous Gryffindor does not want to sully his reputation by breaking a death eater out of prison, am I right?"
Severus' bitter tone shouldn't have shocked Remus, but it did. It struck at something inside him and he was reminded once again of Sirius. Perhaps if he had shown a little more of that Gryffindor courage before, he would never have believed Sirius to have killed Peter, to have turned over to Voldimort. Where had all his trust and faith gone?
Severus watched the parade of emotions cross Remus' down turned face, studied those dulled golden-brown eyes, the small nicks and scars, the lips pursed in concentration. Finally, the eyes rose and studied his face back. He was determined; he hoped Remus could see it. Finally, Remus sighed.
"What is your plan?"
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