Oh, my. It's been a while, hasn't it? Nice to see you again!
Disclaimer: Still not mine, still all JKR's and I'm still making no money from fanfic.
Recap: Severus and Remus are Happy Ever After, years after the end of the second Voldemort War (see the prequel "Salvage What You Can" for details of how Snape got his limp and lost his voice, how Lucius Malfoy died in suspicious circumstances, how Snape and Lupin fell in love…)
Long-term users of the wolfsbane potion are being slowly poisoned by it.
Oh, and incantation-activated potions are so illegal that you get obliviated for even believing they exist. Which they don't, because nobody is allowed to think about inventing them, see?
NB This fic is based on a Potter-verse created before the release of Half-Blood Prince, so later canon revelations have rendered bits of it AU. Thank you x.
…….
Remus was trying not to obsess about his health problem. Really trying.
The trouble was, every time that he succeeded in thinking about something else, he would receive a letter or a floo call from his well-intentioned friends being very kind, very considerate and - to his eyes at least - overflowing with soft-pedalled pity which made him want to growl. He knew that he was fortunate to have such a wonderful support network, not to mention the brilliant minds from the Institute of Master Potioners who came round now and then with questions as they tried out their latest theories.
It was fellows of the IMP who had developed the wolfsbane potion all those years ago and subsequently tested and improved it a hundred times over. Now that the lethal consequences of its long-term use had been revealed, it was the IMP who were working relentlessly to devise a solution. Almost all other projects had been frozen so that the 'Werewolf Question' could receive the full attention of every discipline and nearly every fellow. There were international conferences. There were symposia. There were all-night brainstorming sessions churning out wacky theories and the occasional violent disagreement.
If the circumstances had been a little less grim, people may have publicly admitted that the IMP was actually a rather exciting place to be at that moment.
'Team Wolf', the little group who had devoted their lives to the study of potions as they applied to lycanthropy, found that their status had rocketed overnight. Their work had suddenly been transformed from a rather nerdy discipline revolving around an unfashionable minority of the magical population into the most important issue of the day. For the first time in their lives, Luna, Asif, Roger and Tony were world experts, being consulted reverently by much older, cooler or more qualified potioners who hung on their every word. It was a new and rather gratifying experience for all of them.
Remus knew that it was very fortunate for him and for his lupine brothers and sisters that all these clever wizards were falling over themselves to develop a safer version of the wonder-potion which had made his transformations so easy. Not to mention coming up with something to counteract the damage caused by the build-up of many layers of toxins in his system which had gone unnoticed until now.
Severus had explained, using that slow and unintentionally patronising tone he used when trying to simplify technical potions matters to his lover, that the poisons present in wolfsbane subdued the almighty power of the wolf without killing it because they were subtle, stealthy and quietly insidious. For this reason, none of the extensive tests undergone by wolfsbane users every year had managed to reveal any cause for concern. This year however, a new and more accurate toxicity test being used for the very first time had shown dangerously high levels in long-term users. Like Remus Lupin.
"It's all my fault," Snape would return from crisis-management meetings in the early hours, emotionally exhausted. "It's me who's been slowly harming you, all this time."
"That's enough," Remus would insist, himself worn out by his work with a new group created to support panicked werewolves and to try and counter outbreaks of public hysteria with common sense and pamphlets. "I still think of wolfsbane as a miracle. Even if they never find a safe version, I've had many years of pain-free full moons and I'm grateful for that and grateful to you for brewing it."
This was true some of the time. At other moments, such as when bed-ridden for a full week each month after the stress of a 'natural' transformation, Remus could be vile, petty and accusatory, disparaging Severus' skill as a potions master and the veracity of his declarations of love. He knew it was irrational and unpleasant of him.
When he managed to set his brain onto other matters, there were plenty of things to occupy him. Ron Weasley had recently returned to the UK after years of travelling the world and had a never-ending supply of incredible stories to tell about exotic locations or encounters with people and creatures. He also had a knack of reminding the listeners, just as they began to get jealous or wonder whether he were showing off, that the whole reason he felt he had to leave the life he knew had been because the trauma of the war had scarred him so badly.
Raised in a big, jolly family, he had found that he could no longer cope with company. The familiar faces of his friends were a constant reminder of the evil they had battled together. The constant need of everyone - of so he had believed at the time - to rehash their war experiences and go over and over their struggles with a kind of victor's pride, had revolted him.
He knew that a lot of people were offended when he left, but he had known with the conviction of a teenager old before his time that staying behind would have turned him into something unpleasant.
When not chatting to Ron, there was also the excitement of Hermione's growing baby-bump and the various plots devised by her friends to cause serious harm to the absent father-to-be, the deserting swine Finch-Fletchley. Harry and Hazel had decided to take a break from their unsuccessful and draining attempts at getting pregnant and had acquired a puppy as a distraction.
"And a substitute," Hazel added quickly, before anyone could feel guilty for thinking it as she introduced the little animal to the group, glowing with maternal pride. "If we don't manage to get a real child, we still get to raise Pickle. Don't we, poppet? Don't we? Yes, we do! Where's Daddy? Where's your Daddy? Where is he, then?"
Harry and Pickle nuzzled each other lovingly and rolled around on the floor for a bit, yipping, for the general entertainment of the company and for Hazel in particular, who was smiling properly for the first time in months.
After a while, Remus began to feel tired and made his excuses. When he arrived home, however, his beloved cottage seemed nothing more than an extension of his sickbed, hushed and full of cut flowers kindly sent by his friends. He was so lucky to be surrounded by so many thoughtful people, yet unkindly he decided in an irritable moment that the bright blooms looked garish and foreign amidst the homely muted shades of his comfortable old cottage.
Without even removing his cloak he took a handful of powder and flooed to Cornwall, to his second home.
The kneazle living in Severus' house with him - the independence of both parties and their mutual indifference being so ingrained that it was never considered to be Severus' kneazle - bared her teeth and hissed as he strode into the sitting room, as pleased as ever to find herself in the company of his kind.
"Calm down," he told her with a sigh. A lot of humans shared the lycanthrophobic sentiment these days, even if they concealed it better. "I don't want to steal your favourite chair." She fluffed up her fur and narrowed her eyes, daring him to even try. "I'm just going up to the bedroom, if that's all right with you. Josty! Josty, are you in?" " He raised his voice to call the house-elf, but when the only answer was the squawk of a seagull outside the window, he surmised that she was either out buying food or visiting her sweetheart, Dobby, at Hogwarts. He shuddered at that last thought, thankful that the private lives of elves always remained so.
The bedroom smelled of Severus and he wandered slowly around it, taking in the evidence of the little peculiar habits which he knew by heart but nevertheless enjoyed reminding himself of. They had been spending more time at Remus' home in Derbyshire since all this business had begun and it felt nice to be back in the place where they had shared their first night together. Or rather, their first afternoon.
"You realise the weather prevents us from taking our walk again?"
Remus smiled at the mention of 'our' walk along the clifftop, which had become a habit since the first stages of their relationship.
"We'll just have to entertain ourselves inside. What do you suggest, Severus?"
"Chess?"
"No, we've already established that it takes you twelve and a half minutes to beat me."
"Draughts?"
"Last time all the ornaments were blown off their shelves."
"Diagonopoly?"
"You buy Hogwarts and the Ministry then cackle evilly while I go bankrupt."
"Morgana's Missing Sixes?"
"I'm unlucky at cards."
"Squabble?"
"Your dictionary's biased in your favour."
"Sex?"
He giggled at the memory of Severus' invitation being issued in exactly the same tone of voice he had used for suggesting staid parlour games and at his own rapturous delight three seconds later when his libido caught up with his ears. They were both too tired and anxious for any of that sort of thing now, of course, which was rather sad. He decided that it was probably time they made an effort. Severus probably needed some after all his hard work at the Institute.
Remus undressed and snuggled into Severus' side of the bed, revelling in the scent of him and the slight dip in the mattress where he had lain every night for years. Without meaning to, he dozed, contentedly dreaming of thin arms wrapping around him and an intense black stare plunging deep through his body to read the innermost secrets of his soul.
"Move over, Lupin."
"Hmph?"
"You are on my side. You know that's my side. You sleep on the other side." Snape was rolling him over into the cold part of the bed, which was hugely unfair. He opened his eyes.
"What time is it?" he asked sleepily.
"Just gone eight pm. I had to come home before I removed Hardtbrind's skin and used it to re-upholster the chairs in the Senior Common Room," he scowled the special scowl he reserved for use when his arch-rival potioner's name was mentioned. "They're all somewhat worn on the arms, you know."
"Don't make me move," pleaded Remus, slipping a hand inside Snape's robes. "We can both use this side of the bed."
Snape's eyebrows rose above the dark frames of his spectacles and he removed the intruding hand.
"I don't think that's a good idea…" he began.
"I do," purred the werewolf, putting the hand back and sliding it slowly around Snape's waist between his undershirt and his tunic. "In fact, I think it's the best idea anyone's had for weeks.
"Are you well enough?" he whispered urgently, "I don't want to hurt…"
The exceedingly boring sentence was interrupted by Remus forcefully pulling Severus down into bed and clambering on top of him, suddenly needing to prove that he wasn't a complete invalid.
…….
"You know that healer who lost years of potions research when the Ministry obliviated her for knowing things it considered dangerous," said Remus, much later, his head resting on the grey hairs of his lover's sweat-soaked chest.
"This is not something which ought to be discussed," Snape admonished sleepily.
"But what if she knew something which might have helped the werewolf issue. Wendy, she's called, isn't she?"
"Hush, love, sleep now," murmured Snape lazily, but from his current position Remus' left ear easily registered the dear heart only inches away from it begin to beat fractionally faster
"And that potions master you told me about in Hungary, who was killed because of what he discovered and all his work destroyed - what if there had been a point made in his journals which contained a clue for future generations…"
A long thin finger pressed against his lips, a little harder than it might have done. He looked up to see Severus' face immobile and perfectly inscrutable in the dim light of the single candle burning in their room.
"Andwhat if a chocolate frog became Minister of Magic?" Snape mocked. "Stop being foolish, Lupin and go to sleep. You need to rest after all that exertion."
Neither of them moved then, until Remus brushed the finger aside and asked quietly and without drama.
"If all trace of the Hungarian potions master and his dangerous, illegal research was removed, how do you know so much about him?"
Severus appeared to have been turned to stone beneath him. A fox screamed horribly in the garden and the bedside clock ticked for a full minute.
"Did Lily steal the Hungarian dictionary from Godric's Hollow to help you find out what he was working on when he was silenced?"
The fox screamed again.
"She knew how dangerous it was, she knew the danger that information put you in, but she got involved anyway."
"You know all there is to know about incantation-activated poisons, despite it being forbidden to even know that it might be possible to brew one, you knew all of this years ago when you were young and Lily was still alive."
The horrible realisations were sweeping over Remus in waves, one after another. Each time he thought a pronouncement was too awful for him to have articulated, another even worse one tumbled out of his mouth.
"It was when you were a Death Eater, wasn't it? Voldemort wanted you to brew them for him, to murder people with…"
"Lupin, stop!" Finally, Snape managed to move. He squirmed free and launched himself away to the foot of the bed, where he clung to one of the posts and stared with bright eyes, ready for fight or flight. "It wasn't that," his ruined throat croaked at last. "The Dark Lord never knew."
Remus swallowed, unnerved by the words pouring out of his own mouth, half of which he had not known that he knew. Hermione had raised the point about the unfeasibility of facts surviving a full-scale governmental cover-up, as had happened in Hungary in the 18th century. Lily having stolen a dictionary from James' house for Severus seemed equally unlikely and yet he had found the evidence in her own writing, in a note tucked inside that very book.
Everything was becoming too confusing. Without even registering it, he had steered clear of topics touching on his lover's time as one of Voldemort's creatures, fearing what unpleasantness might be stirred up in his own mind as well as in Snape's. They had been on opposing sides then. Remus' stance on the right side from the beginning hadn't automatically given him a less traumatic war, either. Fear, suspicion and profound loss had scarred them both over twenty years.
It suddenly seemed painfully unfair that the past was threatening the hard-won happiness they had scraped together in their late middle age.
"Tell me," Remus said, reaching for his wand to turn on the light.
Severus flinched.
"Please," added Remus, pulling back the covers to invite him back into the warmth. "I need to know what you did. Tell me."
Sighing, Snape nodded once and carefully manoeuvred his bad leg back across the bed.
"I can't refuse you that," he whispered miserably. "I'll give you the whole story on one condition."
The lay side by side on their backs in, not touching. When Remus turned his head, Severus did the same so they were face to face.
"What?"
"That you extinguish the light. This is a tale of darkness."
…….
Author's Note: Next (and probably final) chapter to follow very soon! Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed!
Love, Nightie x