True to his word, Lupin didn't leave. Severus was both horrified and relieved by this; and when the realization of what he'd done came crashing in, he became more horrified still.
"To your room, then?" Lupin murmured as they limped out onto the landing, oblivious to his renewed anxiety. "Or downstairs?"
"My room." Severus wouldn't—couldn't—face Arthur and Black. Not now. Not yet. For Potter's benefit, in case the boy was still listening in, he said, "Lock the storage room behind you."
Lupin's eyes grazed over the plain doorknob, void of any keyhole, but didn't call his bluff. "Of course. Can you walk?"
The musk of old clothing faded away when the door snapped shut. Severus wished he could snap his mind shut with it. Whatever grasp he normally had over his thoughts was slipping away, turned to sand and escaping through his fingers. Do you think they've left yet? he wanted to ask, and only just managed to stop himself from doing so. Taking a deep breath, hopefully unnoticed in the dark, he muttered, "I'm fine."
They entered Severus's bedroom, and the decades old stench of his parents' room was replaced by the familiar smell of cigarettes. Lupin helped maneuver him to the bed, where Severus promptly collapsed. He supposed the stress of the last two weeks had finally begun to catch up with him; he ached in places he hadn't even known could ache, and when he forced himself to sit up, even his fucking thighs shook from the effort. None of his was lost on Lupin, whose eyes lingered on said thighs before continuing on to settle on his face.
"What?" Severus muttered, feeling suddenly rather twitchy.
"Nothing," the wolf said mildly. "Are you all right here by yourself? I don't know if the others have left yet, but if they're still around, I'd like to let them know I'll be staying."
"You don't need to ask my permission." The very thought was laughable. This wasn't Hogwarts, and Lupin wasn't one of his dunderhead students.
"I wasn't," Lupin assured him, reaching for the door. "I won't be long."
It took a while for Lupin to make it down the stairs, though it wasn't as if Severus was paying any attention. He pulled his legs onto the bed alongside the rest of him, leaning back until he met his lumpy pillow. His shoulder dug sharply into a bedspring. He tugged the pillow down to ease the discomfort and tucked his hands up close to his neck, wishing he'd had the forethought to grab his blanket before lying down. Through his too-thin mattress and the too-thin building foundation, he could hear Black speaking a floor below, as loud and obnoxious as ever. Severus blinked slowly. The front door shut only a moment later, and there was silence. And Severus closed his eyes.
—
When Severus next opened his eyes, it was to find that night had fallen sometime in the span of what had felt like five minutes, and Lupin was gingerly shaking him awake.
"Dinner is ready," the wolf said, before he could so much as sit up in his panic. "I made something you can eat. Harry is downstairs. I believe he's…concerned. About you."
"The only thing Potter is concerned about is whether I've finally kicked it," he ground out past an incredibly dry throat. He sat up too quickly and was treated to a few seconds' worth of his vision blacking out. Blinking away the spots in front of his eyes, Severus reached blindly something to haul himself to his feet with, and was greeted by Lupin's fever-warm arm. He gripped the man's wrist and pulled himself up. Unlike that morning, which now felt like one long and surreal dream, this time his knee held steady. He took a step, and then another, before he felt comfortable enough to let go of the arm holding him upright.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Six hours, give or take. I thought you needed it, so I left you to it. You look…"
"What?"
"Refreshed," Lupin finished lamely.
Like I'm no longer a walking skeleton, more like, Severus thought sourly. He led the way down the stairs and into the living room, where Potter was waiting. He skidded to a stop mid-pace and turned to look at them, announcing without preamble, "We made dinner. It's chicken and potatoes this time. We roasted it, because I know you think the school chicken is unhealthy. Did you know you have a slow cooker? We found it in a cabinet. If it's still too heavy for you, we bought oats and fruit, so you could make porridge. Or we could for you."
"You did the shopping?" was all Severus could think to say after all that.
"A little. Not a lot of it. Professor Lupin wanted to talk to me some more, and no one pays attention to you while you're shopping."
Worried I was eavesdropping? Severus sat down and breathed in the smell of the food cooking away in front of him. Somebody had already set the table; most certainly the boy, who'd apparently tried to fold the napkins properly but had given up halfway and left them in crumpled messes. Narcissa would cry at the sight of them. "Whose money did you use? For the shopping?"
"Mine," Lupin said, in a tone as pleasant and unconcerned as ever. He began to serve the food.
"I tried to tell him not to, but he insisted," Potter mumbled.
There was a jumble of feelings surging forward, none of them identifiable to Severus. "How much was it?" he demanded, when really he meant, You can't bloody afford that.
"Severus—"
"How. Much?"
With a put-upon sigh, Lupin pulled a wrinkled receipt out of the pocket of his cardigan and handed it over. Severus looked it over and tucked it away. He'd already put aside enough funds to pay Lucius back, and would send the payment off to Narcissa at the next available moment…This was affordable enough.
"Tomorrow, I will return your money. Dumbledore is, as he said, footing the bill, so this won't be Galleons out of my pocket." Severus pulled his plate closer and gestured to the boy in a silent order for him to eat his tea.
Dinner was as silent and uncomfortable as ever, but Severus was more than used to that. Lupin avoided his gaze each time he looked round at him, but Severus was used to that, too. Only Potter seemed to be at ease. He'd polished off his chicken at record speed and had already gone back for seconds' before either of the other two had finished their first plate. Favorite food? he wondered, tucking the information away to be used at a later date. Or an excuse to keep his mouth full and not speak?
"I'm done," the boy announced, shooting up out of his seat like a rocket. "Thank you, Professor Lupin. It was great."
"Clear your plate!" Severus shouted after him as he bounded from the room as though chased by hellhounds.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Lupin called at the same time. Severus shot him a positively filthy look.
Abandoning the remains of his dinner, he stood slowly and began to clear the table, packing away the leftovers into tupperware. The werewolf sat and watched him with his forehead creased in a frown.
"What?" he sighed.
"I could have helped."
"I am just as aware as you are that this house has not once seen a guest in the last two decades, but I also am aware that guests don't help. Sit there and be quiet. You are testing my patience."
"I made the food and used your dishes," Lupin said, in a way that was very much not fucking quiet. "I want to help."
"And I want you to sit down and shut up."
"I'll take care of the dishes."
"You will take care of nothing."
"I'm going—"
"Could—could I open the window?" Potter said from the doorway, looking between the two of them like he was afraid they'd both explode at a moment's notice. "I want to send some letters. I dunno if you want me to open the door to do it…"
Realizing he'd begun to make a scene in front of a witness, Severus forced himself to take a deep breath, and then another. He jerked his head towards the window. The boy bustled over with his owl, helped it outside with a parting murmur and head rub, and then closed the window and locked the latch behind it.
The kitchen was enveloped in what may have been the most awkward silence Severus had ever encountered. Lupin broke it with a smile and pleasant, "I'm sure Ron and Hermione will be glad to hear from you."
"Ron thinks Professor Snape is going to secretly poison me," Potter said, "but Hermione thinks I should get private tutoring. And find out what our first pieces of schoolwork will be so she can get a headstart."
Of course she does, Severus thought sourly, already feeling the ghosts of the impending headaches Ms. Granger was going to bring him this year. "Moonstones," he said shortly, lying with ease. "Tell her to prepare well."
"But I already sent the letter!" Potter lamented, as Severus suddenly had to struggle not to smile.
—
"You may end up doing more harm than good," Severus said as he dug through his refrigerator to find spare potions ingredients.
"Pardon?" Lupin looked up from the dishes he'd strong-armed his way into washing, Muggle-style, with his arms deep in soapy water and his sleeves rolled up to bare more skin than Severus was comfortable with. He tore his gaze away from the curve of the wolf's bicep and turned his focus back on finding the Ashwinder eggs he'd stored away however many months before.
"The list you're all wanting," he said, "may wind up causing more harm than good. It doesn't always help to step into a situation where you're unwanted. Sometimes, what appears to be a cry for help is not as such."
Lupin was silent for a time. Then, setting a stack of plates out to dry, he murmured, "I trust your judgement in the matter."
"And if I'm wrong? What happens, Lupin, if you decide to step in, and make the matter infinitely worse for the child in need? What will you do then?"
"Then we remove the child from the premise and go forth from there."
"And if your accusations are entirely baseless?"
Wearily, the wolf turned to him and said, "These are nothing but 'what if's,' Severus. I would rather step in than stand by. If anything, the child would at least know they have somebody on their side, watching over them. I feel it would help to boost their morale."
Having a social worker sicc'd on his family had done nothing helpful to him. That woman would not have cared if his father had seized him round the neck in front of her. If the one who'd called social services had truly given a damn, they'd have left him to it, and let him sort things out himself, whether that meant sticking through to the end, or running away. No, that social visit had done nothing but prove to his parents that he'd been nothing but a fucking Cinderella boy, an ugly Rapunzel letting down his hair in a desperate hope that somebody would notice him.
"I know you've already mentioned it, but…You said you could make us a list," Lupin said, "of children in Hogwarts. Ones that you've…noticed. Is this true, then? Could you truly make one?"
"That depends."
"On what?" Lupin said.
Resigning himself to a night of hell, Severus ran a hand through his hair and tried to focus his thoughts. It was true that there were students—in multiple Houses—that he'd noticed. Signs that he'd noticed. Bruises where they shouldn't have been; hollowed cheeks and darkened eyes that couldn't have come from a single night's lack of sleep; and he'd had more than one Slytherin come to him at the start of term, bearing injuries too severe to handle themselves. But none of them had ever outright asked for help. None of them had ever appeared to have been in grave enough danger that he'd ever felt the need to tell somebody. To…overstep his bounds. It was none of his business. It was the family's business. If he were to force himself into the situation, it would only make things worse for the child. "What are you expecting me to look for?"
"Bruises, children that are too thin, those who flinch when others come near, an unusual amount of Howlers…" Lupin sighed. "It could be anything as simple as behavioral problems. Students who flout the rules a little too often, or use physical or magical violence to get themselves through even the most unassuming social situation. Bullies like…well, Sirius."
Severus's thoughts were moving as fast and light as fairydust. Finally, after a beat too long, he said, "I will make a list."
A smile broke out on Lupin's face. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear this, Severus. Arthur will be ecstatic. The moment you write it up, I'll personally deliver it to Albus. We can leave your name out of everything. You'll have no formal part in this."
Good, Severus thought dazedly, because I want no part in this.
"If this blows up in your face, Lupin, I will not be round to say 'I told you so,' because I have potions to brew," he said shortly, hoping to end the conversation before it could go any further. "Such as the one I have in front of me now. Stay or go, I do not care."
As he had earlier, Lupin chose to stay. Severus couldn't quite tell if that unnerved him or not. "What are you preparing these for?" the wolf asked, eyeing the slugs on the counter, and the zip-loc bag stuffed full of frozen Ashwinder eggs. "A love potion?"
"Yes, it's for Black. I want to see how easily he could snap out of an infatuation for a bitch in heat. Don't be absurd, werewolf," Severus snorted, slicing each of the slugs down the middle. "This potion grants the drinker a half hour of fire resistance."
He'd just finished preparations and turned the stove on when Lupin said quietly, "Was your father a follower of…You-Know-Who?"
Severus warred between feeling grateful of the wolf's avoidance of the name, and furious at the sudden turn in conversation. "No," he said, in a tone that he prayed would signal the end of it. "He wasn't."
"Then…your mother…?"
"My father was a Muggle," he ground out, "and my mother is content to be no better than one, for whatever peace that's brought her."
The potion he'd only just begun to brew bubbled and hissed, spilling over the top of his cauldron. Severus turned the temperature on the stove down with tense, jerky movements, and then accidentally shut it off entirely. Fixing his mistake, he slammed his stirring wand down on the counter and tugged the Ashwinder eggs over.
"For whatever peace…Your father didn't like magic?" Lupin asked softly.
Severus clenched his jaw. "He didn't like anything, much."
"You were raised Muggle, then. Is that why you and Lily got on so well?"
Sometimes, when he was feeling maudlin, Severus couldn't help but wonder if Lily would have given him the time of day if he'd been nothing but a local Muggle boy. If she'd have looked twice at him if he hadn't been able to give her something she wanted, and offered her a stepping stone into a world that had always welcomed her more than it had him.
Severus didn't allow himself to feel maudlin very often. He preferred feeling angry. It was better for digestion.
"There were a variety of reasons," he muttered. Mainly his unwillingness to allow the only good thing that had ever happened to him go away. "None of them mean much now."
"If you were as good as friends as she'd sometimes lead me to believe, then it means more than you'd think." Lupin edged closer to the stove and their arms touched. Severus tried not to jump at the cold wetness of his skin.
"Did you forget to dry your hands, wolf, or do you believe such things to be below you?" he snapped without meaning to.
Lupin didn't take it as an insult. Instead, he stepped away with a smile and reached for a dubiously clean dish towel. He didn't come back over, leaving Severus's arm feeling colder than it had when he'd touched it.
"How did she…" He'd stopped brewing. "How did she lead you to believe we were friends?"
There was no response, and the silence went on long enough that Severus began to wonder whether he'd accidentally called the wolf out on a bluff. Then, quietly, "She would defend you in the common room. Once or twice, she went to one of the professors, though I don't know if anything ever came of it. She would disappear for hours at a time and ignore her friends in favor of these secret meetings of hers. She nearly lost a friend because of it, back in our third year."
Severus swallowed hard and began to brew again, working himself at a punishing pace to make up for the time he'd lost.
"I'm surprised Mary never confronted you over it. We all knew it was you she was meeting. It used to drive James mad." Lupin laughed, almost to himself.
If the Slytherins had all known, it was only fitting that the Gryffindors had, as well. Nothing in Hogwarts was kept a secret for long. Had that been another reason for their drifting apart? Pressure from both sides? 'Nearly' lost a friend over 'ignoring' them was plenty ambiguous, but Severus could read between the lines. He had never been popular in school. Not even in his own crowd.
Lupin eased his way back round the kitchen to press their arms together. He leaned over the stove to peek at the bubbling potion. "What will this be used for?"
Unwilling to admit he'd only begun brewing it to discourage conversation, Severus muttered, "For the Dark Lord."
"Ah."
The conversation ended, just as he'd hoped, but Lupin's movements did not. A hand crept steadily across his spine and dipped low; he sighed and rocked his hips forward without meaning to. The hand stopped, resting fever-hot at the small of his back.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine," he said shortly, dropping twelve slivers of slug into the potion, which roiled thickly and turned as red as he knew his face must have been.
"Are you okay with this?" Lupin asked. His breath against Severus's face was as warm as his hand, contrasting sharply with the night's chill.
He glanced down at the potion, nearly complete, and then cut a sharp look over to Lupin. Fuck it, he thought, the words as clear and bright as the moon, even though the rest of his brain felt like soup. Severus bit down on his lower lip and turned his head to meet Lupin's gaze before hooking an arm round his waist and dragging him in. "You want this," he forced out through a sudden surge of embarrassment, and Lupin's eyes grew wide. "I know you do."
"Do you?" Lupin countered. He didn't move away.
There was no use lying about it. "Yes."
"But—Severus, your potion—"
"Forget about the fucking potion," he said, and grabbed Remus's shirt to pull him down for a kiss.