V - Tea
The pain had finally stopped.
The physical pain, that was.
Though his legs were shaky and his head heavy, he made himself stand up again, he had to, because a huge torrent of melancholy was crashing down on him like a wave, freezing water pouring from a broken dam, until he could cope no more-
The sound that burst from his own lungs both shocked and thrilled him; it was the most penetrating, mournful howl he had ever heard…Thousands of emotions channeled into one single sound, which echoed round the cellar stones, making his ears ring and ring and ring.
An immense release of pain and grief that seemed to eke from every fibre of his body. He stood more stiffly upright and howled again, louder and longer than before.
Then, directly behind him came another softer howl, a mournful answer to his own.
An answer. An acknowledgement.
The fur on his hackles stood on end.
He turned his head to find the bronze-eyed, brown wolf staring back. He had the grizzled white lower jaw of an elder wolf, wise to decades of transformations. He knew this wolf well...his scent was as old as time to him, and though it had once brought him fear and grief, it did no longer.
He slumped back down on his haunches and lay his heavy head on his paws.
His cell-mate took one step forward, so he averted his eyes, allowing him to come closer. They greeted, tails waving slightly, sniffing one another carefully along their flanks. The elder wolf then licked at one of his ears and then the side of his jaw, before slumping down next to him with a gentle huff of breath.
It felt calming to have the other wolf so close. To have him answer his howl.
Snape-wolf gave a weary yawn and buried his nose in his paws.
x-X-x
To say the two wizards awoke to a situation that embarrassed them would be an understatement.
Lupin was the first to stir, and in doing so he wondered why he felt so wonderfully relaxed and warm. Usually waking after transformation meant soreness, cold stone floors or floorboards. He also seemed to be laying on some kind of a blanket, with something heavy slumped across his legs...
He lifted his head and opened a bleary eye. As he did so he heard a grunt, and saw a bare arm move.
Holy Merlin mother of Godric…
The two butt naked wizards sat up and scooted embarrassedly away from each other, eyes wide, bare arms scrabbling for clothing as they went.
The men stared at everything but each other. They were still in the cellar, obviously, but they had both been laying on a small pile of blankets and other fabric. The wolves, or one of the wolves at least, must have dragged all the fabrics from the end chamber to make a nice little bed for them both to lay down on...
Snape swore. "Who made the sodding nest?"
Lupin opened his mouth as if to reply, but closed it again, shook his head and chuckled.
"I wouldn't worry, this is merely wolfpack behaviour, not uncommon. Perhaps Wolfsbane won't be necessary here."
Snape looked alarmed. "What the fuck do you mean not necessary? I could have been mounted last night for all I know…!"
It was Lupin's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Well...you have the super-sensitive smell, Severus, so what do you think? You know there is no evidence of that kind of behaviour...and besides, from what I recall - you were far too exhausted, and actually slept most of the night. It seems that I was far too interested in gathering you blankets instead of doing my usual door-scratching, self-biting, harming nonsense. I normally get the dittany out to treat bite marks all down my arms and legs in the morning... and look here - nothing, not even a single scratch!" Lupin exclaimed smilingly.
Snape raised a mocking eyebrow. "So I saved you from your usual self-harm. How heroic of me..."
It was actually vaguely comical. He'd privately imagined that with his high-stress lifestyle he would make for one seriously rabid, wall-paper chewing, floorboard-shredding whirlwind of an angry beast.
But no; it appeared he was a whimpering, anaemic milksop instead...
Nest-making werewolves. Bloody hell...
Remus had his thoughtful face on. "When was the last time you actually ate a full cooked meal, with red meat?
He was expecting a sarcastic quip, and looked genuinely surprised when he got a straight reply.
"I haven't eaten a proper sit down meal since High Table."
The last High Table had been weeks ago. That explained his werewolf's utter exhaustion, then...
"Wizards might be able to get away with living on tins of baked beans and pepper up potions, but anyone with lycanthropy will get very sick indeed. You will have to eat more now, and particularly more red meat if you want to keep yourself mentally sharp."
"I do not live on baked beans Lupin," came the irritable reply.
Lupin smiled quietly to himself. He unlocked the cellar door and made his way into the kitchen to make tea for them both.
Snape followed him shortly after, and stared at the teacup and saucer as they were placed before him.
So what was this? Friendship with the last Marauder? Pack mates with his wolf?
It was surreal.
He was a little disturbed. Embarrassed. Annoyed. All of that.
But something else was away and above far more perverse than being on blanket-sharing terms with Lupin.
His entire life he had always privately felt like there was some kind of demon inside of him. A beastly otherness that didn't belong to the wizarding world, a bleakness that wanted to drag him ever in a downward spiral, denying him all the nice things in his life.
Now there actually was a beast inside of him that inner darkness had seemingly gone, his old demon exorcised...
He picked up the cup and inhaled the smell of the tea, closing his eyes. Darjeeling, not the freshest leaf, one sugar, brown muscovado. (Because Lupin remembered he took brown sugar, of course) and full cream milk. There was a faint scent of Lupin's aloe vera aftershave left on the cup handle. A fainter smell of Doxies was coming over in a slight draught from the crockery cupboard. There were several other subtle scents that he couldn't identify as they were so faint he'd never smelt them before.
Being able to smell everything had been overwhelming at first, but it was quickly becoming natural to him. He could now see that it would assist in identifying suitable potions ingredients and locating fresh ones. It could also assist with research, alert him to danger…So many things...
He opened his eyes to find Lupin peering thoughtfully at him.
x-X-x
Becoming a werewolf was always a profound experience for any human being.
But something more profound than physical transformation and concurrent trauma appeared to have happened to Severus Snape, and Lupin had to admit that he was a little piqued by it. He couldn't quite place a finger on it, other than to say the man now seemed a little more...
He couldn't use the words happy, or content, neither seemed appropriate for Snape.
Zen? No. At peace? Not quite...
What he was trying to say, what that it was almost as if lycanthrophy had somehow been more of a gift to Snape, rather than a curse.
A gift?
Merlin's beard.
The Astronomy Tower came to mind again. He opened his mouth to speak, but Snape beat him to it.
"Don't ask questions I cannot answer," came the warning tone. "The only thing I will say is that I served both masters up there on the tower that night."
"How were you serving Albus by killing him…?"
Snape opened his eyes and looked at Lupin, but his dark gaze seemed distant, as if he were Occluding like hell.
"You're not an idiot, Lupin;" he whispered. "Surely I don't need to spell it out for you?"
"He...asked you to...to...?" Lupin couldn't finish.
Snape looked away.
Minerva. Oh, Minerva.