Severus hasn't had much reason to be at the Hog's Head, these days.
It's a grimy, pathetic excuse of a pub, if one could even call it that. But no matter.
Dumbledore's orders were to be prioritized over all else, including rational sense, these days...
Aberthforth had shot him a look of disapproval when he'd walked in. Begrudgingly handed him the key to the back room to facilitate this… drop off, of sorts.
A knock on the door - one he'd been expecting for a few minutes, now - breaks him out of his thoughts.
He points his wand and flicks the door open to a familiar face. One that looks somehow even more ragged and thin and scarred than when he'd seen it last.
"Ah, yes. Lupin."
"Severus," he mutters, not quite meeting his eyes. "You have what I requested for?"
"Here," he says simply, and then he unceremoniously tosses a small flask at him.
It's a modified version of the Wolfsbane potion, as it were. Concentrated to a high enough percentage and then masked with another scent so that the pack wouldn't recognize it, but strong enough for Lupin to maintain hold of his senses with a mere few drops during his nightly transformations.
It comes out of no particular affections or care for the man himself, to be clear.
But again, Dumbledore over everything, these days. He'd been the one to pass along Lupin's request to him, after all.
"Thanks," he murmurs brusquely, and then, words phrased something like a question -
"You could have had someone else drop it off, you know. No need to go to this trouble yourself."
(He's not wrong, of course, but Severus needs to lure him into the trap he's set.)
(So he lies.)
"Mmm, not really," he mutters pointedly. "There are very few wizards left willing to rendezvous with a known werewolf, Lupin."
"Besides -" he drawls, "I had to come see you myself. Wanted to know for certain."
Remus eyes him warily, then.
"Know what?"
"If the rumors were true."
Severus draws closer, like a predator encircling its prey. Notes to himself the slightest twitch in the other man's stance. Like he's hiding something.
"That you're the reason a certain Auror has withered away into a shadow of her former self."
Lupin's face falls.
Somehow, that's all he needed to see.
"Ah," he rasps as delicately as he can.
His next words are a test. One he can already guess Lupin is going to flunk, and miserably at that.
"Well, I could expect no less from Nymphadora." he spits out. "She always was an impulsive, arrogant, bumbling, good-for-nothing little fool…"
He's cut off by the sound of the other man's fists slamming against the table, almost as if by impulse.
"Don't you dare talk about her like that, Severus..." Lupin hisses out through gritted teeth, and he detects a thread of quiet, palpable fury, far beyond what one would call merely friendly.
Just as he'd suspected.
"Ah," he says again, and he can't help the gloat now, a slight smirk on his lips. "You don't mean to tell me you've encouraged her affections? That they're...returned?"
Remus says nothing. The silence speaks volumes.
"My, my, Lupin." Severus can hardly keep the bored tone out of his voice, though truthfully speaking, he's anything but.
"She's a bit young for you, now, don't you think? She was my student just a few years ago, and now you've got her all wrapped up in your paws."
He can't help the taunts. It's too easy, and Lupin looks too miserable to counter them.
"I always knew you were a dog. But I didn't expect it to go this far."
He sees something - apologetic? repentant? - flit across the other man's face.
"Severus, we didn't -"
"Stop. I'm not looking for specifics, so don't bother."
(Frankly, he's not interested in excuses. He's had a lifetime of those.)
(It's all the same, in the end.)
Remus looks contrite, but falls silent again.
"She has a real future in front of her, you know," he muses lazily. "Alastor's clear favorite. Could be the top Auror within the decade."
Remus' eyes narrow, and he can see the man clench his jaw.
"You were insulting her intelligence thirty seconds ago, Severus…"
"I still think she's a fool but she has immense magical talent, I'll give her that." he states coolly.
And then, another jab -
"I may not care for her personally but unlike you, I'm not blinded by my emotions, Lupin."
The other man frowns.
"So what have you come here to do, then? Gloat? Mock me?"
(Oh, no.)
Severus shakes his head.
"On the contrary, I'm here to offer some advice."
"Please do. I'm all ears."
He leans forward, then, so Remus can hang onto every last word -
"Let. Her. Go. Otherwise, you'll ruin her life, just as you've ruined your own."
Remus looks like he's been struck across the face. He's all but seething, suddenly.
"What exactly do you think I've been doing, Severus?"
"Running off on some dead-end mission, like a coward? While she withers away here, moping and hoping things might change?" and then, a cheap shot, just because he can, "Some fine Gryffindor you are."
Severus leans back. Lets his words sink in.
"You have to take any chance, any last glimmer of hope she has and destroy it."
Lupin looks hesitant.
"What… what are you saying?"
(As if he doesn't know.)
"I'm saying - you need to break her heart, completely this time. So she can move on from this silly little infatuation."
"No." The answer is swift and direct. "I can't do that to her. Not like that."
"Can't, or won't?" he snides. "You really want her to be with a monster?"
The other man pulls at his hair, clearly exasperated.
"You don't think I tried to warn her...?"
"Oh no," Severus corrects him quickly. "I wasn't talking about your affliction. I was talking about you."
He watches with some satisfaction as Lupin seems to close in on himself, almost. Good.
"You are incredibly selfish. For letting this go on, as long as it has. Perhaps you are the monster."
No one who cares for the man would tell him. He may as well hear it from someone who's known to despise him. Whatever will get the message across.
Severus continues -
"In ordinary circumstances, I would have had no doubt that this infatuation of hers was little more than a fleeting fancy, from her end. Why else do young women go after broken old men? Once she'd had her fun, she'd simply leave you."
A pause. He lets the sting of his words settle into the man's open wounds.
"But as it were, these are not ordinary circumstances. She's going to get distracted, and then get herself killed."
"It's not a matter of if." he finishes. "Just when."
"And," he adds, on afterthought, "I hardly think the cost of her obsession with you should be her life."
Remus says nothing. But Severus knows he's gotten to him.
Time to finish things up, and be done with it.
"You want her blood on your hands, Lupin?"
"Of course not." he mutters, voice so low he can scarcely make it out.
(But there's still the slightest tinge of hesitation, there.)
This is exhausting. He doesn't hide the irritation in his words -
"Well. You have a chance, in front of you. So just do it."
"Or what?" he snaps.
"Or nothing. There simply is no other choice." Severus states plainly.
"In fact," he continues, "you can tell her yourself, actually…"
Remus' face drops.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, she's headed here right now. Order duties, or that's what I told her, anyways. She doesn't know you're here, of course, she's been avoiding you religiously, but nothing wrong with a little shock, every now and then…"
It's rare to see the wolf side of him outside of the full moon, wild and feral and fully unhinged, but Snape thinks he comes pretty damn close, right about now -
"Severus, you meddling little sna-"
At just that moment, the door swings open, and the Auror in question stumbles in.
"Professor, I got your note -" and then, a pause, as she realizes who else is there-
"Remus?" and then, turning back to him for an explanation, of sorts, "Professor, what -?"
She looks so young and so lost, in that moment.
Like a schoolgirl again, the student he'd taught not so long ago.
As for Remus, well, there's an oh-so-familiar look dancing on the man's features.
One he's seen countless times, in his own life.
Nothing short of naked, unadulterated longing.
(Pathetic.)
It disappears fast, with a speed that's practiced.
Remus fancies himself inscrutable, Severus knows. He's dead wrong, of course.
He feels a wave of disgust, again.
Remus should know better. And yet...
Nymphadora turns back to him, having missed the look that had flashed across his face.
"Remus - I - I didn't know - "
"Ah, yes." Snape interjects. "You weren't supposed to."
She looks at him, confused. Then back at Remus, as if she can't help herself.
Remus, of course, is back to glaring at him. But no matter.
"Oh, don't mind me, lovebirds. I'll be heading out now, actually. I didn't need you here at all, Nymphadora. But Remus does, apparently."
"Severus, don't you dare -"
"I smell trouble brewing in paradise." he continues, ignoring the other man entirely. "Frankly, I'd rather not be here for the fallout."
"Good luck with the conversation, Lupin." he says, fixing him with a hard glare. "Choose your words wisely."
Then without so much as another word, he gets up and leaves, snapping the door shut behind him. Tosses the room key onto the bar and heads out into the cold evening air.
And now... to wait and see, he supposes. What comes out of this conversation.
He had merely arranged the circumstances, of course.
What happens from here will be entirely up to them both.
He can't claim to know what will happen. But he knows what should.
They've both devolved into the worst versions of themselves. For love, or rather, some cheap, pale imitation of it.
They'd be sealing their own doom, if they chose to be together.
Because love - real love - isn't something to agonize over, to hedge on, to mumble and fret over, to drag out with questions for months on end, as they both have.
It just is, or isn't.
Not everyone can carry the weight of what that entails. Far fewer have the strength or guts for it.
And most definitely, he thinks with a slight sneer, not them.
Definitely not them.
