A dull yellow light flickered through the film covered windows of Spinner's End and illuminated the snow that blanketed the walkway. A cloaked figure stood on the stoop, shuffling from foot to foot to ward of off the bitter January chill. Inside, Severus Snape shuffled in woolen socks to the door to admit his guest. He disabled the wards with a flick of his wand, and pulled back the heavy oak door.
"Fucking Christ," breathed Remus Lupin, tapping the snow from his boots and shoving past Severus into the foyer. The wind blew drifts of snow in the door and large flakes settled on the black wool frock coat that clung rather tightly to the Potions Master's sizable midsection. Remus dropped his cloak and a worn leather rucksack onto the dusty floor and pried off his boots.
"Sirius made oatmeal cookies," he stated flatly, seeing Severus' questioning look at the bag. The dark haired man made a face half way between disgust and eagerness.
"Oatmeal?"
Remus nodded and straightened up, the bag in hand.
"With raisins." He patted the flakes of snow off his graying hair and smiled, producing thin wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
"Well give them here then," Severus commanded, thrusting out one pale, calloused hand. Remus produced a tin from the bag and placed it in the proffered hand. Severus shook it appraisingly, hearing the cookies rattling in their confines.
"The board is set," he said, lifting off the lid and choosing a particularly large cookie. He inclined his head toward the adjoining room.
"You're not going to cheat again, are you?" Remus jested, producing a bottle of Ol' Troll Whiskey from his bag. They ambled into the lofty study which housed Severus' endless tomes.
"I have no need to cheat, you cretin," he spat out between mouthfuls of cookie. "As it were," he continued, selecting another from the tin, "that swill that you hold in your hand is the very reason why I… fell asleep on the board."
Remus flung his emptied bag on a nearby chair and opened the bottle of whiskey. It smelled remarkably like paint thinner.
"You mean passed out drunk?" he offered with a laugh, taking a tumbler from Severus' substantial liquor cabinet. "It's not my fault you can't handle your liquor."
Severus stepped next to him and shoved him out of the way with an elbow and a look of disdain. "I have, in my life, dealt with the deadliest potions that one can brew… and that tonic that you are currently defiling my tumbler with," he said, thrusting a finger in the bottle's direction, "is the vilest liquid I have ever imbibed." He pushed aside an unopened bottle of wine that he had received from Minerva on his birthday, and drew out a bottle of beer. "Frigio," he muttered, and the warm bottle was instantly cooled. He twisted the top off and threw it to the floor.
"It's not bad once you get past the taste." Remus said, draining his glass with a grimace.
"I'm sure," Severus mumbled and took a seat at the chess board, the cookie tin, which was becoming lighter by the minute, balanced precariously on his knee. "It's your move, Lupin," he stated, as Remus poured another glass of the amber colored liquid. "And you had better not get sotted," he added with a reproachful look, "I'm not dragging your unconscious arse through the floo." Remus sat down on the opposite side of the board, running his thumb along the rim of his glass as he contemplated his strategy. The last time he relied heavily on Severus' inebriated state to win the game, but it seemed that the Potions Master had learned his lesson. He raised his eyes to look at Severus, whose attention was focused solely on the tin in his lap. Remus thought briefly that his friend really didn't need to be eating entire tins of cookies. He was a far cry from the scrawny boy that he knew at school. In fact, the long line of black satin buttons that ran down his coat was looking a bit strained. Severus shoved another cookie in his mouth and looked up. "Well get on with it then," he barked, and washed the remnants down with a generous swig of beer. Remus started out of his reverie and obliged, ordering a piece to move across the board. The tiny pawn looked up hesitantly, seemingly unwilling to move.
Remus chuckled and looked up at Severus who was digging in the tin yet again. "I promise no one will fall on you tonight." The pawn moved forward and commenced their weekly game.
Remus had put a sizeable dent in the Ol' Troll, and several discarded bottles of beer jangled around Severus' feet. The chessboard, Remus noted pleasantly, was looking rather askew and quite out of focus. It was his turn to move, but he was finding it difficult to focus on anything but the climbing temperature.
"Fuck," he slurred, and leaned back in the chair.
"So you claim defeat, Lupin?" Severus asked, amused.
"I claim nothing," Remus replied, "except that it's bloody hot in here." He drew his sleeve across his brow and fumbled with the buttons on his blazer.
"It is not," Severus remarked, turning the cookie tin upside down with a frown. A few crumbs fell to the floor. "Quit fussing with your buttons. You look like an idiot."
"At least I didn't crush the chess set with my face," he retorted, finally managing to free the buttons. He stood and shimmied out of the wool jacket.
"Shut up, Lupin." Severus stood and took another bottle from the cabinet. "I don't suppose that there is another tin of cookies in your bag?" he asked, tilting the bottle back.
Remus shook his head. "But I'll tell Sirius that you enjoyed them."
Severus glowered. "You will do no such thing."
Remus made to pour another glass of Ol' Troll, but Severus seized the bottle. "I believe that concludes tonight's fun, Lupin."
"What?" he slurred, "I'm not drunk." He took a few tentative steps forward, wobbled, and stopped.
Severus raised an eyebrow and put the bottle back into the bag. He restored the empty tin there as well, and shoved the bag and Remus' cardigan into his hands. Remus blinked dumbly at him and muttered something about his shoes. Severus summoned the boots and Remus' traveling cloak, piled them in his hands, grabbed the werewolf by the arm and hauled him in the direction of the fireplace. They passed the chess set, where Remus attempted to protest. "The board will be waiting Lupin. Go home."
Severus, who was beginning to feel the effects of thirteen bottles of Hatford's Famous Ale, made the mistake of letting loose his hold and Remus toppled sideways, where he swayed dangerously before falling squarely onto the chess board. He looked baffled for a moment while Severus scowled.
"You said something earlier about crushing the chess set?" he commented as Lupin laughed, his boots and other possessions in a heap on the ground. Sighing, Severus stepped forward and hitched his arms under Remus', attempting to drag him to his feet. Remus grasped Severus' shoulders and tried to stand, but was proving entirely useless.
"Damn it, Lupin," he swore, "stand up."
Remus moved his arms to loop around Severus' neck and stumbled to his feet, smiling.
"What is it that you find so amusing you flea-ridden imbecile?" he barked, and attempted to step back, not wanting the horrid smell of cheap whiskey to seep into his coat. Remus, whose arms were still linked behind Severus' head, leaned in quickly and put his lips to the corner of Severus' mouth. He stood there for a moment before pulling back and let his arms drop with a smirk. Severus stared at him, shocked, suddenly feeling very sober.
"Cookie crumb," Remus offered playfully, and began to pick up his discarded possessions. He stumbled over to the floo while Severus stood quite unmoving.
"Don't worry," Remus shot mischievously over his shoulder as he dug a handful of green floo powder out of a jar on the mantle, "I won't tell Sirius." He smiled and threw the powder into the flames.
"Huh?" Severus asked, his stunning vernacular forgotten.
"About the cookies," he finished and stepped into the flames.
Severus turned to face the fireplace, regaining the use of his legs, and his usual bravado. "Perhaps you may convince the idiot to make more?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I may be able to arrange that," Remus replied and with another word, he vanished in a puff of green smoke.
Severus Snape woke the next morning with a groan and applied a hand to his aching head. He hoisted himself off the sofa slowly and with great difficulty, and stood on unsteady feet. He ran a hand through his tangled black hair and shuffled out of the study to the kitchen. "I'm far too old for this," he grumbled, sitting down at the table. The house elf had left a plate of eggs and bacon on the counter. Next to it sat a round silver tin. He quirked an eyebrow and summoned his elf with a snarl. The frightened creature appeared in the kitchen with a pop.
"Master calls?" she asked with a shaking voice, fearing a rebuke.
Severus gestured to the tin and inquired as to its origin.
"This is coming through the floo this morning, sir," she cooed, wringing her hands.
Severus screwed up his face and looked at the tin with arms crossed. "That will be all," he snapped and the house elf vanished. He rubbed a sore spot in his neck and lifted a folded piece of parchment from the tin. Slanted red letters spelled out To Snivellus. He cursed Lupin to hell in several languages before unfolding the parchment.
So glad you enjoyed my cooking, you greasy git.
Bon appetite.
-Sirius Black
Severus crumbled the parchment with a sneer and tossed it to the floor. He gave the tin an apprehensive look before throwing back the lid. He leaned against the counter with the tin in hand, and sent a silent word of thanks to Lupin.