Part III

London, 1985

Severus Snape apparated in his flat in Hackney, leaving Remus Lupin to make sense of things for himself at the Chinese restausant in Soho.

Back at school, nine years ago, finally, miraculously, Lupin had noticed him. He had even been worried upon seeing Severus' missing teeth. This was not how they should have had their first exchange of words. Severus had been so ashamed of being discovered by this boy he admired that his instant reaction had been anger. And he had wanted to impress Remus Lupin while he was at it. Only when he got home that evening had he calmed down. When Eileen had seen her son's still bloodstained face she had felt a pang of sadness. She had then sat him down at the kitchen table and made him a cup of tea. She knew that this was the best way to do what she could to make things better.

"Oh Pet, what happened this time?" she had asked, trying her hardest not to sound patronising.

"Nothing Mum." Severus had glowered. "If I could just use ma-" he said and his mother interrupted him:

"No! On no account must you use your powers! Try to fight back using their weapons."

"What? My height and muscle?" Severus had said. "I'm not like Da."

Eileen had made a gesture as if to stroke her son's hair. Stopping in mid-motion she had pulled back. Her son was 16 years old. It was too late for that kind of comforting.

"Mum, you said I should play to my strengths..." Severus had said tentatively.

"Enough! There are rules about living in the muggle world as a wizard and that is that!" Eileen had shouted. Her mood had a tendency to shift very suddenly in those days.

Severus had left the kitchen with his cup of tea and withdrawn to the safety of his room. Taking out his homework, his hand had stopped as he caught sight of his dictionnary, whose thickness reminded him of yet another book.

"I'm Jesus..." he had said to himself, recalling his earlier words, smacking his forehead and groaning. He had got up and stood in front of the window. Time for some magical experimenting. He had then concentrated his thoughts on Remus Lupin: in his mind he had drawn out the boy's face, placed his voice, remembered his posture and his gait. Holding all of these in focus he the had brought himself into the picture next to him and then dismantled his own image, piece by piece. By the time he was done the sun had set and it was time for supper. In the following weeks it had taken so much out of him to daily make Lupin forget all about his very existance during their last two years at school. By the end he had been so good at it that he could stand right behind Lupin, practically touching him, and breathe in his smell without him noticing.

Other pupils, who were still very much aware of Severus Snape would sometimes ask Lupin about his "shadow". Of course, Lupin never understood. After graduation Severus had wanted to disappear from Lupin's surroundings. And did just that. It was only several years later, having recognised him in a bookshop that he had followed him home, to see whether his non-verbal, experimental spell had endured. It had.

A pang of something, nostalgia perhaps, had seized Severus' gut upon seeing Lupin again on that autumn evening in the bookshop. All the efforts he had made to keep Lupin's memory clean of himself had been meant to allow for a better "first meeting" between them and, he hoped, some kind of friendship. But until that day he hadn't been able to bring himself to breal the spell and reveal himself to Lupin. Instead, following him around just like in school had grown into a habit and he had become a bit of a stalker.

The reasons for this were complexe and Snape was a little ashamed of them. To him, back in their teenage years, Lupin had always seemed like the ideal boy. The kind of person his father would have liked for a son. As a boy he had longed to befriend the other boy, in the hopes that at least some of Lupin's normality would rub off on him.

Well informed by now of Lupin's habits and fondness of the Horse and Hound, Snape had chosen that evening to make his move. There Lupin was, having by some happy coincidence reappeared in his life. But how to introduce himself? 'Hi, you might not remember me, but we went to the same school...'. No, he had spent years at school making sure that Lupin wouldn't. He had to go back to Lupin's first (as far as he knew) memory of him, where the spell was the weakest. There was another reason: the mind has memory, and so does the body. Lupin's hand would remember his blood.

Sitting in his flat, mulling their earlier meeting over, Severus winced. 'Shit', he thought. He had felt Remus Lupin remember him, had seen it, and what had he done? Fled, that's what. Last minute stagefright.

"I'm an arse." he said aloud, holding his head in his hands. Nine years later and he was still as awkward as before...