Lyrics Series

Silent Inside

Malfoy wanted so much, demanding, domineering, insistent. Severus gave him all he needed and more. It was hard at first, denying everything he wanted, curling his lip, spitting ugly retorts at his desires. It became easier as the years progressed.

He didn't feel it any more, the pleasure, the pain. He was hopelessly lost to them, irredeemable and forsaken, huddled in safe melodrama. Emotional strife was a waste of time, a critical weakness. Safer for everyone this way.

The Dark Lord would want to know. He could never be given that hold over Severus. What he had was bad enough.

Know I had it Coming

Lupin sighed as the train pulled into Newcastle, bustled in the change-over. There was another year over, another defeat at humanity's hands. Dumbledore didn't put up much of a fight. The curse of the job? Severus was furious. Despite getting his own way, it wasn't what he wanted. Harry was let down. What to do then, but accept fate, accept defeat, such was life? As it had been since 1965, if you got right down to it. Maudlin didn't suit him though. Lupin knew he'd be at the old man's beck-and-call as soon as Albus asked, grateful for the attention.

About to Tear myself Apart

Remus remembers the whole thing. How could he not. From the manic way Black raced away from him, driven, starving, to how he faded to nothing in the blink of an eye.

Under the full it hits him hardest. Unbidden in black and white. Tattered fabric flutters forever. Even the words, human and angry, ring in his sensitive ears, no sense to them, but his human form utters them perpetually, struggling boy in arms. There was no time, no goodbye.

There will never be for the wolf. Loss is easier to understand then, even when human comfort is not forthcoming.

See you Run Around

1988. Severus was curious, catching sight of Lupin in Diagon that summer. He followed once again, grimly attracted to gruesome spectacle. Watched pain, spell-safe this time. He was no less frightened. Cursing himself for such weakness, he vowed to surpass it.

1998. They've clashed since then, and now it is time to save the world. Thrown into this battle, fated pawns with the potential to topple the dark king's defences. It will be bloody and they will be destroyed, even in victory. Both used to pain, both so close in undesired solitude, neither part of this world, hand in hand.

Need no Alibi

The Ministry hauled him before the Wizengammot. They wanted the wolf too. Lupin had gone to ground without him, Severus cursed that he'd waited too long.

They wanted this spectacle of the Dark Lord's servant, safe and reformed. The perverse part of him that revelled in show wanted to give them exactly what they didn't need to know.

He was out of his mind with thoughts of the last few hours, the walls in his conscious crashing down for the first time in years.

Damn Lupin, he'd find him and make him make good on his promise.

Evasion was required.

Aim for the Burning Sun

He watches them now, cool breeze catching his hair gently. The pain inside, which was threatening to overwhelm him, ebbs. Under this crimson sky he can breathe as the sun sets. The werewolf regards him, watching over Severus as he does the children grown. But can he take the offered hand of friendship and protection? Never required before, no matter how wanted. It is a choice long denied; escape from the past, from himself, is close. He wants so badly to taste it. Nothing to chain him down. A glimpse of such bright light that he's lost, deservedly so. Free.

Nothin' Left to Do

Aftermath. It was easier then either of them dared guess.

Why?

Potter was gone.

Couldn't stand the pressure, said the papers. He couldn't hide like they could. And now no one is pausing to ask where the spy and the werewolf have hidden themselves. Even secluded as they are they can hear it, the rumour, the superstition. Where he's gone, what does Granger have to do with it, the Weasleys are keeping quiet, the school won't say. And in this one small way they are finally lucky, their lives proving insignificant enough to be possible to carry on alone. Together?

Not Blaming you for Everything

And what exactly do they have to be thankful for? Everything, for each other and for the end of this horror. They were new grown at the first, they are too old at this last. And what has it taught them? To be alone, to not feel, to not forgive, to forgo grieving in preference to safety.

And now. They are frail, disillusioned, carrying masochism and sorrow as their shrouds.

Living on, again, through this miasma, their pretence at life. So long and tiring, this stony path. But give thanks to nothingness and silence at last, for rest is here...

Rough with the Smooth

It was madness. They were crazy. They would kill each other, they knew.

They'd survived almost a year and they hadn't noticed. Too busy living. There were floors to clean, meals to make, bills to pay. It was more than either had had in so long.

They fought, they argued, they were passionate. Severus found himself chuckling at Lupin's emoting. Remus parried Snape's sarcasm with scathing rejoinders. It was new and first and human.

They had found a place unburdened in this world. They drew strength from each other and pushed each other's boundaries. They cried and laughed and lived.