Chapter 04 – Realisations

During the next five weeks, they met regularly every Friday evening in Remus's chambers, playing chess, drinking wine and talking little beyond the necessary. Snape did not exhibit any signs of what he thought about their meetings, but for the time being Remus was perfectly content with having established a kind of relationship with his colleague that did not consist in exchanging insults. Not that Snape was friendly, either.

Nevertheless, Remus realised that somehow he liked spending time with the grumpy Potions Master - although it was not always easy to rein himself in when Snape would backbite his Gryffindor students. Or anyone else. But then, he did not do this for fun, and he had not expected it to be easy. In fact, he was quite surprised how well it had worked so far.

Since the third Friday in November happened to be full moon, they had agreed on moving their appointment to the following evening. When Remus entered the Great Hall for breakfast, however, he soon began wondering if this had been such a good idea, for today Gryffindor and Slytherin would compete in Quidditch, and whoever would win, it would have the most annoying effects on their appointment. Provided that victory would fall upon Gryffindor - which he hoped would be the case - he would have to deal with an even more ill-tempered Snape than usual; if Slytherin won, on the other hand, Snape would be unbearably self-contented, which seemed to be even worse.

'Great prospects either way,' he thought gloomily, sitting down at the teachers' table. His head, as well as his whole body, was aching murderously, as was always the case the day after full moon. Normally, he would have spent at least half the day in bed, but today he had forced himself to do otherwise - taking a horribly large dose of painkilling potions - since he did not want to miss Gryffindor's Quidditch match against Slytherin.

The real reason that he had forced himself out of bed, however, was another one, even though he did not like to admit it to himself. He did not want to think about it, now that the night was finally over. Now that he had, for another month, escaped the mental anguish that had been increasing every full moon, ever since…

Remus took a deep breath, trying to leave these thoughts behind. If he had stayed in bed, he would inevitably have begun brooding, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Five minutes later, Snape entered the room in his usual whirl of robes, heading towards the teacher's table, a horribly smug expression on his face. Remus sighed. It would be a really great day. Snape sat down beside Remus and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Are you ready?" he asked, a smirk curling his lips.

"Ready for what?"

"To see Gryffindor lose, of course," the Potions Master replied calmly, as if this were the most likely thing to happen and anyone who thought otherwise was an idiot. "It's absolutely impossible for you to beat us this time - there have been some great improvements to our team," he went on between spoons full of porridge.

Remus groaned inwardly. 'If I wasn't a former Gryffindor, I still would wish for them to win, just because I won't be able to endure this longer than half an hour.'

He quickly finished his breakfast - to tell the truth, he was not hungry at all - and left for the Quidditch pitch, which, over the next 30 minutes, gradually filled with people. Although it was cold, the air was clear and the sun was shining brightly, trying to warm them with all the power it had left. It could not have been better conditions for a Quidditch game, and Remus's mood rose slightly. Maybe he had been too pessimistic.

Finally, the game began. The "great improvements" mentioned by Snape turned out to be a replacement of half the Slytherin team, exchanging the original players with even more gorilla-like figures. That, however, did not have the desired effect, for they were playing poorly, and Remus wondered whether no one had thought of the fact that in order to play Quidditch successfully, the players were supposed to have at least some brains.

After only twenty minutes, Gryffindor was leading seventy to ten, and the tribunes exploded in a tumult of red and gold and deafening cheers when Harry caught the Snitch in a spectacular dive, snatching it away right under dumbfounded Malfoy's nose.

The rest of the day went by in a rush. After taking a most needed nap, Remus had spent the afternoon preparing Monday's classes so he would not have to do it on Sunday. He liked to have a free Sunday, when he would sit by the fireside and read, or maybe just stroll over the Hogwarts grounds, enjoying the rough but nonetheless enchanting nature the ancient castle was surrounded with.

But although the day had been relatively pleasant, he could not help keeping the thoughts of the morning at the back of his mind. Snape. He certainly would be most annoyed at the defeat his house had been forced to suffer.

'Whatever will happen, just stay patient,' Remus told himself while enumerating the Red Caps he would show to his third-year class on Monday.

Yes. Patience. One of his strong points. He could stay calm, no matter what he was confronted with; he could pretend he had not heard anything, even if someone had just made the most scathing remark. This had been vital as long as he could remember. Otherwise his soul would not have survived…

Half-breed, monster, freak, scum, beast… the list could be continued ad libitum. Everyone who had learned he was a werewolf had turned from him in disgust or fear. Well, not his family nor Albus, of course, nor his colleagues here at Hogwarts - which mostly was due to the fact that many of them had known him since he had been eleven years old. Most other people, however, had never been able to overcome their prejudices. Except for Sirius, James and Lily. And Peter… but he had erased his friend Peter from his memory. Now there was only Peter the traitor. The man who was responsible for James's and Lily's death. And Sirius's death, too.

Sirius.

There he was again. Back at the thoughts which would not let him sleep at night, which would assault him every time he saw Harry, his friend's godson, which would creep into his mind just at the moment he thought he had gotten rid of them… at least for some hours. He felt his colleagues look at him sympathetically when they thought he did not notice. They knew it had hit him hard when Sirius had died, which was natural. But they did not know how hard it was; they did not know what problems he and Sirius had been forced to face after the latter's escape from Azkaban...

'I don't think of him that much when I'm with Snape…'

This was ridiculous. Of course he did not think of Sirius in the Potions Master's presence – he was far too preoccupied with bracing himself in order to not ruin the truce which had developed between them.

'Truce? Last time I checked, you said you actually liked spending time with him.'

This tiny voice in his head was most distracting. Yes, then, he somehow enjoyed their meetings, but they did only take place because he had promised it to Albus.

'And because you are seriously worried about him.'

Was he? Images formed before his inner eye: Snape, clinging to his robes, crying and trembling, desperately in need of comfort… Snape, looking all weary and sickly… Snape, sitting at the teachers' table or in front of the chessboard, with this alarmingly numb look in his eyes…

Yes, there was no way to deny it. He had finally come to really care about him…

7:59 p.m.

'I'm late.'

But did he want to go? Was he able to go? He was not sure. Slowly, Severus forced himself to loosen the grip of his arms around his legs, which were risen to his chest.

'Do I want to go?'

He could send a house-elf with a note telling he was ill or just did not have the time to keep their appointment. He could stay in his rooms - in bed, as it was - and recover in safety, and tomorrow he would have regained complete control.

Control. Everything was about control. It was vital. Control yourself. Control your emotions. He hated losing control as it had happened at Grimmauld Place that very night. As it kept happening. As it had happened just now.

-

8:05 p.m.

Severus brought a shaking hand up to his face to wipe the salty liquid away from his cheeks. And where was his wand? He had to make himself presentable; there was no way he was going to let others see he had lost his composure.

'So I will go?'

Yes, he decided, he wanted to meet Lupin, despite his present condition. No… not despite, but because of his condition! This realisation caused him to feel severely confused. What the hell did this mean - why would he wish to be with the werewolf right now?

'Because being with him calms you down. It is what you need right now. He does you good.'

-

8:25 p.m.

'Twenty minutes?'

Severus realised that he had again clasped his arms around himself. He must have spent the last twenty minutes in this position, although he did not remember time passing by.

'Stay calm,' he told himself. 'Do not panic. Just stay calm, just control yourself.' There was no reason to worry.

'Yes, there IS!' his mind yelled. Memory gaps were not a good sign at all. He had hoped it would remain a thing of the past, losing contact with the world when something deeply upset him - and the fact that he somehow seemed to need Lupin did upset him. It alarmed him to the core, and he almost began to hyperventilate. It felt as if an iron chain had entwined around his chest.

'No, don't panic, don't panic! Breathe deeply. Breathe. In… out… in… out…'

-

8:35 p.m.

With a great effort Severus had managed to calm down bit by bit. Breathing was still painful, but at least he no longer felt like choking. He had to hurry if he still wanted to meet Lupin.

'Do I?'

He really did not know. It was most distressing that he seemed to have developed feelings other than scorn for the werewolf. He was, he now could no longer deny it, almost thankful that Lupin wanted to spend time with him regularly. The calm and friendly man had a soothing influence on Severus which was most needed in the present situation.

Need. He could not allow himself to need anything from anyone. He could not risk getting into any kind of friendly contact. It was too risky, it made him too vulnerable.

'And, most of all, you do not deserve it.'

Yes. However much he might be in need of it, he did not deserve the help Lupin was unknowingly bestowing him. All this was his own fault, and he deserved everything that had happened to him. Even if his condition worsened further… he shuddered at the thought. How much had he wished to leave behind the panic attacks and the times when he could not remember the last minutes or even the last hour… and the nightmares. Well, the nightmares had never ceased… but he had not had them every night…

Severus fought hard to not lose control again, slight tremors running through his body as he forced back the tears and the overwhelming pain. There was no point in letting himself go that much. He did deserve what he got, and he had to live with it. Things were that easy.

He would never be able to make amends for his deeds, but he could pay. And pay he did. The price was appropriate to his guilt, he kept telling himself every time he thought he could not stand it any longer, could not face the cause of his anguish another time.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Albus had asked him. The caring look in the headmaster's eyes had mortified him to the core. He was not worthy of Albus's care, had not deserved what the old wizard had done for him sixteen years ago. Albus kept telling him the opposite, but, as Severus thought bitterly, of course he could not understand. Neither Albus nor anyone else knew him well enough to see that he indeed had only gotten an adequate punishment for his main deed.

Existing.

-

8:45 p.m.

Severus forced himself to stop the soft rocking he was using in order to comfort himself since he could remember and got up.

'What are you going to do?'

Lupin. He would visit Lupin. With shaking hands, Severus straightened his crinkled robes, then looked around for his wand. He found it on the nightstand and pointed it at himself, murmuring a quick incantation. As he hurried through the dungeons, he brushed aside every objection that occurred to him.

'We only play chess. And he does not try to get anything personal out of me. It is not dangerous.'

There was a voice in the back of his mind that told him he was wrong and would regret this, but he shrugged it off. Lupin did not pose a threat, and although he did not deserve the comfort he - however - derived from his colleague's presence, he could not miss this opportunity to becalm his inner demons.

Arriving at the entrance to Lupin's rooms, Severus had calmed down as much as possible. He took a deep breath and knocked.

"Lupin? Are you at home? It's me. Snape."