Ah, I see you are dressed. You look more like yourself when you are, although there is a strange little black spot on one of your arms. The nurse must have bumped it against something when she washed you or so. The bedstead is made of iron, after all, no wonder you'd get hurt on that one. It does look painful, wanting some healing potion, dark red as it is and darkening.
It was something I have been wondering about, after all that happened in the war, lots of people saw you fighting on the other side and your position is still most unclear - do people come and attack you, or does the kind nurse protect you from them? I do hope there are certain security measures in place in this hospital, it would not be fair towards you, in this situation.
I nearly would not have been alone today, you know. Tonks asked if she could come along today and it was all I could do to keep her away. She is angry with you, Severus, and the anger of a woman is not to be treated lightly. She is convinced that you work into everything maybe not as the root of all evil, but as the string which pieces together those things which stain and pain her memory and make it uncomfortable to remember what was, the faces lost along the way, never to return, and all that. She says cannot forgive you, although I have to admit that I do not see the connection between her and you. There does not really seem to be a basis for her feelings in this matter. But then, it makes no sense to hate the dead and you are alive, so here we are.
Yes, I still call her Tonks. I know you never really got on with her, neither as student, nor as member of the Order. Well, it does not surprise me. Tonks - well, her first name is out of the question, she keeps saying, I can hardly call her Mrs Lupin, "darling" makes me feel silly, so that is the only name which remains.
She is a wonderful, loving wife, of the kind you will never have. Well, I did not think she'd be the kind of woman I'd marry, either.
In spite of all harmony, we had a bit of a row. She does not understand that these meetings with you are somehow my own affairs, that she, although she has fought in the war, is not really part of all this because she is not part of what was. I think she may feel slightly accusatory because I spend so much time with you instead of with the woman I love.
Well, I love her, but I hate you more.
No, not really. Not hate, but that emotion I feel. This needs my time at the moment, especially since I do not know if you will ever wake up again. I know when I felt this emotion for you for the first time, Severus. You are probably not interested in this, but you do not really have any other occupation at present, so I think I may safely assume that you are at liberty to listen for a while, even though that may well be the most difficult task one can ask of a teacher.
I want to see the dynamics of this, you see, pinpoint the moments which made the ever-quick successions change direction, which turned those fluttering ifs into certainty. You see that I am worked up about this, but looking back, it does not make sense to me. Yes, I do feel rather strongly about this, and there is nothing who can help me in this matter. All the others are dead, and Minerva - she is a teacher. She has a very distorted view of the whole affair. I remember your razor wit, and wish for a moment I could you to think about this with me.
There seems to be no reasons for thinking things like houses, house cups, points and Quidditch were so all-important- and yet, we did, we all did, fervently, passionately.
We were all children once, and then it got out of hand.
Remus found himself spending more and more time with James and Peter, tagging along behind them more and more often, becoming their shadow at times. He did not know what to say to them and could not always join their conversation, so he contented himself with listening quietly, his eyes wandering from speaker to speaker, wondering anxiously if his silent presence annoyed them. It did not seem to, however.
Sometimes, they would be kind and ask him questions to lure him into the conversation and he would answer them with a very small voice and a smile. They were often talking about things Remus was not really interested in, such as Quidditch, but he did not mind being introduced to this new world by them and took in their opinions gladly.
Slytherin won the next match again, leaving James absolutely disconsolate and Sirius in sullen satisfaction. Somehow, he had obtained a Slytherin banner which he fixed on his bed. This time Remus had paid attention and seen that what had happened when Sirius tried to join the Slytherins supporters. The tall Slytherin boy, who happened to be the boy who had shoved him out of the train on their very first day, put his huge hands on the smaller boy's shoulders and pushed him away from the stairs leading up to the Slytherin stand, and all the Slytherins, including the first years, had laughed - even Severus, a small smile aquiver on his face.
The two tall Gryffindor boys fought daily now and spent most of their time in detention with disconsolate Professor McGonagall. The lessons the two houses had together were filled with angry tension. Potions, which they also had with the Slytherins, the atmosphere was murderous, but Professor Slughorn was able to keep them under control, but the Transfiguration and Herbology lessons especially had become a weekly ordeal. The Slytherins jeered at the Gryffindors whenever they made mistakes, James paid the same compliments to them whenever one of their ranks made a mistake. Remus always tried to sit as far away from the other boy as possible now, settling alone at the back of the classroom to avoid being made part of this display.
Sirius often also sat in the far back, if only to stay as far away from James as possible. He had grudgingly stopped complaining about Remus staying close to him and did not even laugh so often anymore when Remus made a mistake. Severus was sitting in front, on the opposite side of the door, half-hidden by the huge Slytherin.
It was especially bad after Transfiguration lessons when the half-hidden sentiments of Professor McGonagall fanned the emotions of James and Peter. She was a very strict teacher, but she did not seem to have had this position for all too long. It was all too obvious that she was on James' side in the Quidditch matter, and her complaints about his off-hand comments about the other house and team were only very half-hearted.
Remus ducked out of the classroom one particularly bad day, Professor McGonagall's voice growing raw with shouting behind him. It had ended with the entire Transfiguration room decorated with needles because instead of attempting the spell, James had at some point decided it was very effective to hurl his pincushion at the nearest Slytherin when the professor's back was turned, who had followed suit and let his pincushion attack James. Both boys were sporting many small wounds from where pins had hit them and were now being shoved out of the classroom by a furious Professor McGonagall, her face covered in angry red spots, her eyes flashing behind her glasses, who had taken points from both houses and was now giving them detention for the entire month.
The door slammed and left the corridor ringing with the sound and then with a sudden silence in which James and the Slytherin glared at each other, breath heaving, faces flushed and angry, before turning and walking down the corridor angrily, surrounded by a corona of angry tension which seemed almost visible. Remus went after them slowly as they seemed to be heading towards the Great Hall. Maybe it was over now, he thought, as he rounded a corner.
"This is all your fault, Goyle!" James hissed as soon as they were out of earshot of the Transfiguration teacher's classroom and the tall Slytherin bore down on him, cracking his knuckles.
"Watch your mouth, Potter," he rumbled, the small eyes narrowing even more until they were only icy slits.
"You are such an idiot, Potter!" came a furious voice form behind Remus and he turned to see that Sirius, who had been among the first to leave the room, was standing behind him. "Because of you, they've lost points!"
"You shut your face, too, Black!" Goyle snarled and rounded on Sirius. "Is something wrong with your brain? You are in Gryffindor, remember?" He glared.
Remus, who tried to retreat, noted that the way was blocked by James and Peter on one side, by arriving Slytherins on the other, two boys called Nott and Rosier and Severus. Severus was standing close to a wall with an impassive expression on his face, yet his black eyes were flitting over the Goyle and James, calculatingly. Remus retreated to the wall, too.
Sirius had clenched his fists walked up to the tall Slytherin, glaring. "But I should not be! Just because the hat made a stupid mistake…"
"It is never wrong, Black, and you seem to fit into that house perfectly well, you are as stupid as he is arrogant,' Goyle said, pointing at James.
"Shut up! It clearly did make a mistake, otherwise you would be in Hufflepuff, together with the other trash-" Goyle's fist disappeared in Sirius' stomach. Remus jumped, staring at Goyle in disbelief. The movement had had so much force Sirius doubled up and staggered a step backwards.
Remus felt his heart beating faster, his nerves tingling. He looked this way and that, but all ways were blocked. Sirius let out a suppressed squeal and held his stomach, punching the Goyle in turn.
"I am so glad that you idiot did not end up in my house," Goyle hissed, jumping out of the way, yet wincing when the fist hit him. "You belong in Gryffindor, together with that arrogant bastard, the squib and that Half-blood!" He flung away his school bag and grabbed one of Sirius arms, trying to turn it on his back.
Severus' face had spun round at the last remark, a strange look flitting over his face. His eyes came to rest on Remus' briefly, whose insides were churning as the attention of the onlookers was suddenly directed at him. Remus lowered his head and looked away, still looking for a possibility to get away. There was none. He pressed his back against the wall, hoping for the best.
"Oh yeah! Well, there's a slimy Half-blood in Slytherin too, isn't there?" Sirius bellowed, pointing at Severus before trying to hit Goyle again.
Remus felt guilt heaving down even more of his insides, he turned to look at Severus. The Goyle did not seem too surprised, but one of the other two boys gave him a very surprised look as Severus recoiled to the wall. Remus felt his face reddening and hot shame scouring through his stomach.
'Well, he is a better wizard than you are, that's for sure,' Goyle hissed and punched Sirius side, who winced and trod on his foot, hard. 'As are all Slytherins!'
At this, there was a bang. James had slammed his bag on the floor, shot forward and punched Goyle in the side. Another Slytherin, Rosier, Remus dimly remembered, followed suit and tried to get hold of James' rapidly moving arms, both their faces red and contorted in anger.
Peter was treading from one foot to the other, but then stepped forward and tried to get a hold on one arms of the boy who was trying to beat up James, his face flushed in red, unusual anger.
The third Slytherin boy, Nott, made a step forward and punched Peter in the side, the smaller boy doubling up and kicking out at the other Slytherin. It all happened so quickly that all he could do was watch the shapes in front of him with rapidly moving eyes. Remus felt as though he was watching an avalanche roll down a mountain and about as able to do something against it. Soon, they were a mass of entangled body parts, arms and legs flailing this way and that, heads appearing out of the knot of bodies red, eyes burning with anger and determination. Remus' eyes were wide. Inside, things were flying about heatedly, one thought chased the other in his head. Should he go for help? Should he try and separate them? Should he…
Rooted to the spot as he was, he found that he could do little. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his side, his eyes flickering over the fighters. He could see over their heads that on the other side, Severus was doing the same. He had the same impassive expression on his face, but his eyes were earnest. Remus tried to catch his eyes, but as soon as they met his, he felt heat rising inside him and blushed. He had told Sirius he was a Half-blood and one of his friends had not known. What trouble had he caused him? He tried to look as sorry as he could, but he knew that it would be impossible to spot in this situation.
'I bet you feel comfortable in his company, anyway, Goyle,' said Sirius, who had managed to get the huge boy into a headlock and was panting under the strain of keeping him in it.
'Everyone knows your family are practically squibs, and squibs and mudbloods like that slimy Snape have always gone on we-' he did not finish the sentence because his head suddenly was thrown onto his chest and both he and the Goyle toppled forward. Severus was tearing at Sirius arm now, the Goyle had freed himself and was punching Sirius in the stomach, who turned this way and that to throw off Severus.
Someone screamed with pain and Remus head shot around. He saw that Peter was pressed against the wall and was being attacked by another large Slytherin, who had just let his fist crash into his face. Blood was gushing from the Gryffindor's nose. Remus reached a decision and carefully moved closer, his nerves fluttering, ready to retreat at every step, finally grabbing hold of the tall Slytherin. Peter used the chance to punch him in the stomach and get thereby gain time to get away from the wall.
Remus had not thought about what to do behind this point and saw with widening eyes that the Slytherin turned and rounded on him now. He turned and ran, stumbling into another shape, who lounged at him. Blindly, he hit the direction of the attacker and hit something as a fist landed in his back. He suppressed a grunt and kicked the shape in front of him, panic now superseding all other emotions inside him.
He was alone, and he was being attacked by two people, and there was nothing he could do to escape as whoever was behind him now had gripped one of his arms.
In panic, he just let himself fall forward, crashing into the boy he was fighting and taking him to the ground with him. He quickly put his whole weight on him to keep him down and kicked out blindly behind him, only barely avoiding being kicked by Sirius who was still fighting Goyle next to him.
He looked around quiveringly for a way to get out of this, fear and sheer panic rising inside him and flooding his senses, turning all into a strangely blurred, reddish gloom in which he could barely make out what was going on nor think straight. Getting away was important, and not being hit by someone.
'Let go, you bastard!' someone snarled underneath him.
He did not pay attention, too busy to try and make Goyle stumble so that Peter could get away from an attack directed at the bleeding boy. An elbow hit Remus' stomach and he punched the small of the boy's back, looking around him in panic. There must be a way out. The Slytherin he was lying on struggled, again elbowing him in the side, where a red hot sensation of pain spread out into the entire region. Remus punched his side in turn, hard.
'Get off me!' the Slytherin snarled at him and Remus squeezed his arm painfully. Goyle kicked his side. James lounged at the huge Slytherin and both were crashing down beside him only seconds later, Remus only barely avoiding a flailing arm which crashed into his shoulder instead of his head, making him wince.
'Shut up, you Slytherin bastard!' he snarled, looking around quickly for a way to get out of this, all senses still clouded by the pulsating reddish gloom of the tides of panic and anger.
'Sod off!' the boy snarled, his voice as panicky as he felt. Blood was rushing in Remus' ears, the world still blurred. The boy's words were stabs in his quickly diminishing patience.
'Sod off yourself, stupid mudblood!' he punched the boy to gain some time, scrambling to his feet, but immediately stumbled again as the other boy grabbed hold of his feet. He tumbled and landed on aching knees next to his attacker, pain coursing through his body once more, the second in which he stood immobile on all fours enough for the Slytherin to get him into a headlock again. The second of struggle after that was enough for him to let his fist crash into the other's neck and hear a strange choking noise, to feel a punch in his stomach and curl up in pain.
The Slytherin pinned him to the ground and he lunged out blindly, hitting one of his black eyes which were gleaming with anger, rage and tears now as his fist left the quickly reddening eye, the pale fist shooting out in turn and meeting Remus' jaw, who managed to throw him off and pin him in turn.
'What on earth is going on in here! Have you gone insane! Stop it! And get up, all of you! At once! Fifty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor for each of you! Your behaviour is atrocious!'
The shouting cut through the strange blurred, red perception Remus had and surged away, leaving only immense pain over all his body and guilt and shame in the wash. He blinked. And looked around for the cause of the pain throbbing in his whole face, back and stomach region, glaring black eyes meeting his own angry look. He?
'Get off me, Lupin,' a voice hissed at him. He retreated pointedly slow and saw the other Gryffndors do the same, blackening eyes and bleeding faces masks of anger and contempt. He? How dare he!
'Off to the Hospital Wing with you! And detention for all of you! Seriously, I have never seen students behave like this before! What are you, brawling muggles!" Remus jumped, feeling suddenly strangely exposed under the glare of Professor McGonagall, whose beady eyes were burning her glasses, her face pale and quivering with rage. She now stretched out a hand and pointed to the direction of the hospital wing.
One by one, the boys woke from their daze and slowly trod into the indicated direction, glaring at the others all the while. The rage inside had not subsided. Remus could not believe Severus had punched him, and whenever his eyes met the back of Severus' black head, a new wave of anger would surge through his body, the sullen looks he received as the other boy turned his head briefly as he turned into another corridor told him that it was the same with him.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned in surprise, half getting ready for another attack.
'Thanks, mate.' Peter's voice was slightly husky and out of breath. 'For helping me back there.'
Remus turned his head. Peter, James and Sirius were next to him and looking at him with the same exhaustion and mixed emotions displayed on their faces he was feeling. He could feel a strange exhilarated smile appear on his face as he looked into Peter's warm eyes.
'Oh, not at all,' he said and felt James patting his shoulder as well, and then, to everybody's surprise, Sirius'.
'Boy, these guys are really wankers,' James said quietly, but loud enough for Rosier to hear, who turned around and glared at him, pointedly clenching one fist.
Sirius glared at James and seemed about to say something, but then his eyes narrowed, briefly locked on Goyle's back.
'Yes,' he conceded pressedly. 'They are.'
They entered the Hospital wing and were fussed over and reprimanded by a flitting Madam Pomfrey, who then ushered them to sit on different beds, treating them with potions and stern lectures one by one.
They chose opposite beds and the eight boys glared at each other with much playing of muscles and crossing of arms.
Remus could not help his eyes locking themselves into Severus' most of the time, the anger he felt at him burning his insides, but being spurred to rise even more as the other boy sneered at him.
He wanted to kick him, the hot current inside him surging up once more. He! Clouded, irrational anger. Remus could not forgive him.
And so it begins?
No, but it decided certain things. And what is a beginning?
I do not doubt that you felt the same way about the whole matter, Severus. It was designed to end this way, I think today. There just was barely a choice for any of us, not the way things are. The new bonds which had formed with those close to us were, after all, more important than the old allies from the other side, from before entering this world, weren't they? And how could they not be? We were never really outspoken about things, and somehow I always assumed later on that I was the only one who thought that there had been some friendly feelings between us on our first day, but now I think I can hardly have been the only one. We were children. Children tend to be rather alike, and I do not doubt that your feelings on your first day were similar to mine.
But it was so stupid, all things considered, and makes me very ashamed of both of us.
We ought to have known better, maybe, but we did not.
And thus, the choices were made, both sides set up, the dice thrown.
A.N.: Sorry about the long break. I've been on holidays, and after that I had a few … you could say creative differences with my beta and this chapter is sadly un-beta read. I hope the remaining mistakes are not too awful, I have read it too often to see them, I fear.