About a quarter of an hour after both men's tears had finally subsided – Remus's silent ones much sooner than Severus's soft, desperate sobs – they were still sitting on the sofa in the same position as before: Remus holding Severus in his arms and slowly stroking his head, Severus leaning against his colleague with closed eyes, his fingers clinging now loosely to the worn fabric of the other man's robes.
Remus was deeply lost in thought. True, he had known that Severus was suffering greatly from the situation, again and again having to endure Malfoy's cruel assaults. And he had also partly known about the effects which these incidents had on him, having witnessed one of his panic attacks in the Pensieve. But somehow, it seemed, his mind had failed to draw the final connection between the broken man he had watched in the Pensieve and the tired, obviously pained but still always composed man he had gotten to know during the last months. He had known the facts, yes, but that someone who was so badly broken should still be functioning, even when still being exposed to the traumatic triggers, was hardly conceivable.
Tonight, however, those two persons had become one. Seeing Severus breaking down in his very presence had made realisation strike, and it had struck deeply, painfully evoking feelings from what seemed to be ages - and sometimes only days – ago, when he had witnessed similar scenes with another man. This thought made Remus feel uneasy, and he quickly dismissed it. It was absurd to compare Severus to Sirius. It had been similar only because they both had been in need of comfort, nothing more. He had wanted to help Severus, like he would have done with anyone – how could you not pity someone in such a situation?
But, as he realised only moments later, he did not pity Severus. That would have belittled what Severus was doing for them. No, it was not pity that he was feeling - he was developing a deep and honest respect for this man, a man who was sacrificing everything to his task, desperate to make amends for his deeds. And how poorly was he being repaid by the other Order members!
Their attitudes toward him were ranging from cool indifference over uneasy doubtfulness to open hostility and distrust. Severus accepted it all silently – the cold, loathing glances, the abruptly stopping conversations as soon as he entered a room, the hushed whispering, the venomous remarks. Until not too long ago, Remus would have said this was so because Severus did not care, but now he thought better about it. Sighing, he looked down at the dark head nestled to his neck.
'It's because you think you deserve it, isn't it? Because you think they're just right in their judgement.'
Unconsciously, Remus tightened his hold around Severus. It felt good, having him that close, and the slender body seemed to be made for being held by him, so well did it fit into his embrace. The other man did not move, and Remus wondered if he might have dozed off at last. It was likely, since he had already been exhausted when he had arrived at Remus's rooms. And after what he had been through tonight…
How often had Severus suffered attacks like those after a summoning, and afterwards had endured the Order's distrust and scorn, Remus asked himself. Whom of the others would be able to do so? Certainly not Remus himself. He knew how it felt to be shunned and despised, and he respected Severus all the more for taking it upon himself voluntarily.
He, himself, had not truly doubted that Severus's allegiance lay with Albus, because he trusted the old wizard's judgement. But he had never troubled himself with the others' insulting behaviour. Severus was a grown man and usually quick at repartee; he could care for himself. And if he chose to react just by glaring or leaving the room – who was Remus to object?
Now, he felt once again disgustingly hypocritical, but also annoyed about that. He could not change the past, and he should stop brooding. He could not have known.
'True, but you could have voiced your opinion, couldn't you?'
And of what use would it have been? Certainly, Snape would have made it crystal clear that he needed no support from him, of all people. So, the only result would have been irritation on the parts of the other Order members, and he could do without that.
'Just as you could do without being rejected by your friends at school for telling the truth.'
Remus closed his eyes as a bitter smile crept onto his lips at this thought. It seemed he had made the same mistake again.
Everyone who had ever loved him unconditionally was dead. His family, James, Lily and Sirius, and Peter could be counted as dead as well.
Then there was Albus and Harry, who, truth be told, liked and accepted Remus as he was, but it was not enough to dispel the feeling of loneliness and uselessness that sometimes threatened to suffocate him since Sirius's death.
With the Order, he was needed and accepted; willingly by some, like the Weasleys, Tonks or Shacklebolt, grudgingly by others. But accepted nonetheless. He could not lose this. Or at least that was what he had thought. But now…
Remus carded his fingers through the black locks once more, absent-mindedly wondering at how much he liked the feeling of the admittedly greasy strands flowing through them so easily. For a while, he simply let his troubled mind be soothed by the pleasant sensation, but finally, he decided that it was time for them to sleep.
"Severus?"
The softly uttered question gained him a small, muffled sound, indicating that the Potions Master was halfway asleep already.
"Come on, let's get you into bed."
There was no way Severus would return to his own quarters tonight, since the potion in his system demanded that someone stay with him. Carefully getting to his feet and scooping up the other man in his arms, Remus made his way to the bedroom. Having arrived, he then gently eased Severus down on the bed, propping him up against the headboard, not without feeling an odd remorse at the loss of the close contact. There was an awkward moment as he tried to pull back – Severus's grip at his colleague's robes had tightened again.
"Severus, you need to let go, please."
Finally, after a repeat of this request, and after Remus had sat down next to him and had gently stroked his hands for awhile, Severus's fingers hesitantly unclenched.
"I'm going to take off your robes now," Remus announced, quickly adding, "but nothing else! Just the robes and your shoes. Is that acceptable?"
He took the almost imperceptible nod from a sleepily blinking Severus as a yes and begun unbuttoning the thick, black garment, under which, clad only in shirt and trousers, the other man was even thinner than he usually appeared to be, even without the Glamour Charm deceiving the eye. The hot surge of anger toward his colleague for not taking better care of himself abated as quickly as it had come. Eating properly was probably something Severus could not care less about at the moment.
Having rid the other man of his robes and shoes, Remus then asked him to lie down. Severus did as he was told, immediately curling into a foetal position as Remus pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.
"Listen, I'll sleep on the sofa in the living room." Remus now explained, his hand still resting on the other man's arm. "I'll leave the door open, so if you need anything, just call."
After waiting for an answer for several silent moments, Remus decided that his colleague was probably already sleeping. With a murmured, "Good night," he got up to leave the room. He had hardly reached the door, however, when a soft whimper from the bed made him stop and turn.
"Severus? Is there anything wrong?"
There was no reply but more quiet whimpering that made him return to the bed and sit down again. Touching the other man, he could feel him shaking under the covers. Slowly, he begun running his hand through Severus's hair, talking softly to him.
"I'm not leaving, you don't have to be afraid. I'm just going to the room next door. You'll be safe, and I'll be there if you need me. Now just try and get some sleep."
After some minutes, Severus had fallen silent and relaxed again, and Remus once more got up to leave. This time he did not even have the time to make a second step away from the bed before a small, frightened sound caught his ear. Sighing, he turned again and looked down at the huddled form beneath the bedcovers.
"Looks like we'll have to share tonight. I truly wonder what you'll think about all this tomorrow morning."
Deciding that he could think about this problem when it became reality, Remus took off his shoes and robes, yawning. It was only an hour to midnight by now. He turned off the light that was shining into the bedroom from the living room with a wave of his wand and a murmured "Nox!", and then slipped under the blanket behind Severus. Gently, he moved the curled-up form into his arms, his chest and abdomen pressed to the other man's curved back.
"There, that's better, isn't it?"
As an answer, Severus snuggled up as closely as possible to him, and once again Remus's hand found its way into the long hair. Stroking lightly, he felt how, after some time, the man in his arms relaxed and his breathing gradually evened out until finally he had fallen asleep. Remus smiled slightly as he shifted into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. It felt good to lie in bed next to another person. He had missed this greatly during the months since Sirius's death.
Usually, Sirius and he had not slept in the same bed afterhis return to Grimmauld Place, but in the nights after his seizures Sirius had needed Remus's company. And Remus had never refused. Living with the man he loved without being able to be near him had been hell, and there had been far too many nights in which he had wept himself to sleep alone. Whenever Sirius had asked him to stay with him, he had complied gladly. And he had always felt guilty about it.
How often had he been lying in bed, holding Sirius, savouring his touch, his scent, his mere presence – and at the same time being abashed to the core? This could only take place because the man he loved was suffering, and Remus should have wished for nothing more than for it happening as seldom as possible. But instead, he had felt this treacherous, disgusting happiness deep down inside whenever he had been allowed to be so near to Sirius. The memory hurt, and instinctively he nestled closer to Severus and the comforting warmth he was providing. Yes, he had missed this so much…
Gradually, his thoughts still being with Sirius, Remus began drifting off to sleep, lulled by the other man's steady breathing. It was soothing, just like his warmth, his touch… just like Sirius… his presence had always felt so wonderful… this felt good… peaceful, secure… lying next to… Sirius… Remus smiled slightly in his doze. He loved him so much… and now he was so close… like it should always be…
Suddenly, a shudder went through the man in his embrace and he murmured something, his limbs twitching slightly. Although halfway asleep already, Remus automatically moved to run his hand over his back. That always worked with Sirius.
"It's all right," he mumbled, "just sleep, Si –" and that was when his fingers touched something that should not have been there. It took his drowsy mind some moments to process the information it was fed: where there should have been nothing but smooth skin under the other man's thin shirt, he felt a thick, bulging… something. Willing himself to fully awake again, he then realised other things which were wrong. The body in his arms was too small to be Sirius's, who had been taller than Remus himself, and too thin as well. The scent was different, the hair too short. It felt greasy under his touch, and it was then that reality finally hit him.
Sirius was dead, and the man sleeping in his bed was Severus Snape, who had had a breakdown in Remus's quarters, probably due to some encounter with Malfoy. And Remus had, halfway asleep, taken him for Sirius, the man he loved! Remus almost felt as if he had molested Severus, and it took him a great deal of will power not to shy away from him. How could he give in to this kind of illusion even for a second? Doing that would mean using Severus, using him to ease his own pain in a most inappropriate way, and Severus deserved better than that. If anything, he should be cherished for himself – not that Remus had any intention of taking that direction in their relationship, as he told himself.
And what was that thing that had torn him out of his pleasant half-dream? Carefully, he now touched the other man's back again. There it was… a scar, as he realised. Tracing it, he noticed that it was quite long, and where it ended, it directly passed into another one… and another one… Through the thick, stiff fabric of the robes Severus had been wearing, Remus had not noticed them before. Slowly running his hand over Severus's back, tracing the thick, jagged scars until he had felt each of them, Remus found that not an inch of Severus's back was unmarred.
They must be the remainders of the wounds Malfoy had inflicted on him sixteen years ago, Remus realised, and at this moment, he all at once felt infuriated and painfully sad again, even more so than before. If only he could do something to help - preferably send Malfoy to hell, or anything else that would spare Severus another meeting with his rapist!
He pulled Severus closer in a protective gesture, and the feeling that all this was perfectly right, that both of them were exactly where they belonged, was now even stronger than before, when he had mistaken Severus for Sirius. He did not know why this was so, nor why the thought of what Severus was going through suddenly hurt in a way only one other thing had ever done. It was the same feeling that had overwhelmed him whenever he had seen Sirius suffer, whenever he had agonised over the question if there was nothing he could do to help the man he loved.
It was strange – frightening, to be honest – that he should feel something even remotely similar about Severus now, and therefore Remus quickly tried to shove the thought back into his subconscious. He should truly sleep now, he decided, unwilling to deal with something so disturbing. Closing his eyes, Remus nestled his face to the other man's shoulder, and despite his confused feelings the events of the evening finally took their toll, making him succumb to an exhausted sleep.
Slowly, Severus drifted from the realms of sleep into consciousness. He was surrounded by a comfortable warmth, and a soothing and steady sound was in his ear. With his eyes still closed and his mind drowsy, he allowed himself to bathe in the feeling of safety and peace that these sensations evoked in him. Sighing softly, he breathed in the faint scent of vanilla and tea that was radiating from the person on whose chest his head was resting. This person now stirred, ever so slightly tightening the embrace Severus was wrapped up in.
That was all it took. Suddenly wide awake, Severus jerked himself free from the arms holding him, hardly managing to hold back a yelp of fear. He felt his chest narrow painfully as he scrambled away from whoever might be lying next to him. When his back touched the wood of the headboard, his breaths had become shallow and rapid. His head begun swimming, making him feel dizzy and disoriented, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to repress those sensations.
"…Severus…" a voice was calling him through the mist clouding his mind. "…Severus, calm down, please…" He knew it, had heard it before.
He was hardly able to breathe anymore; his frantic gasps for breath seemed to be of no use at all.
"…it's only I, Remus, there's nothing to be afraid of…"
Without knowing why, his mind somehow linked this voice with safety and comfort, and he clung to this straw firmly.
"…please, Severus, breathe slowly now. Come, breathe with me: in… out… in… out…"
He tried, but it was hard, almost impossible.
"Come, I know you can do it. Just breathe with me, listen to me: in… out… in… out…"
The voice was like an anchor, and now he gradually managed to do as it ordered, bit by bit adjusting his breathing to the rhythm it provided. Finally, it had slowed down to normal, and when the dizziness had left and Severus opened his eyes, he found himself looking into the concerned face of Remus Lupin.
Severus opened his mouth to say something – but he found himself at a complete loss of words.
Taking in his surroundings, he realised that he was not in his own quarters but in what must be his colleague's bedroom. How had he gotten here? He remembered coming to Lupin's room in the evening… but nothing more.
"Severus?" Lupin asked now, worried. "How are you feeling?"
Severus? Since when did they call one another by their given names? Why had they slept in the same bed? Cuddling, even! Just what had happened last night?
Once more he felt panic welling up, and he made a hasty move to get up and away from the other man, but his body would not obey him. He got tangled up in the sheets and his mind already prepared itself for the painful collision with the floor, when suddenly his fall was stopped and he felt himself being gently pulled onto the bed again.
For some moments, the adrenaline flowing through his veins made him incapable of any clear thoughts, and when it abated, he found that Lupin had let go of him and once again was watching him with concern.
"Are you all right?"
Finally, he retrieved his voice. "No, I am not! How could I be when I awake in your bed, with no idea how I got here, or why?" he snapped, trying to conceal his embarrassment by laying as much anger in his voice as he could muster.
The other man looked startled. "You don't remember?"
"Obviously not." He suppresed an annoyed sigh. "I don't even remember what happened after I arrived yesterday."
The situation was getting more and more ridiculous. Here they were, sitting on Lupin's bed after having spent the night together – and he had no idea what they might have done. They did not possibly have… no. No, that could not be. They were both still fully clad, and moreover, he would never think of that, after Lucius had… with great effort, he cut off this thought. This was not the right time, not with Lupin sitting only inches away from him. Far too near, as he began to realise with growing unease.
Remus noticed the look of increasing discomfort on the other man's face, as well as his defensive posture, and he realised that it was probably not a good idea to be so near to Severus. A quick glance at the clock had told him that it was half past six, and the potion must have worn off by now. He quickly retreated from Severus and climbed out of bed.
"I think we should discuss this during breakfast," he said. "Maybe you remember until then, and if you don't, I'll explain it to you." His colleague seemed about to protest, but he did not give him the time to speak and went on. "Let me use the bathroom first; it won't take longer than a few minutes."
With these words, he grabbed his robes and shoes and quickly disappeared into the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom. When he returned after a short time, he found that Severus had gotten up as well and was now buttoning his robes. He was deliberately ignored as he passed him to reach the door to the living room.
Having left the bedroom, Remus summoned Dobby and asked him to bring breakfast for two persons before sitting down at the table. He hoped that he would be able to convince Severus to stay instead of leaving immediately. Of course, he understood how embarrassed the other man must be. Waking up in another person's bed, without even knowing how he had ended up there – he himself would not have felt any different. And for Severus it must be even worse, considering his previous history. Remus had been truly worried when Severus had began to hyperventilate, afraid he would not be able to calm him down.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes, which were burning with tiredness. Their sleep had not been as undisturbed as he would have wished… The small "pop" of Dobby's return interrupted his musings, and after the house elf had set the table, Remus thankfully poured himself a cup of tea to revive his spirits. He was most certainly not a morning person.
Sipping his tea, his thoughts returned to the man in his bedroom and to the question of how to deal with the present situation. His quick retreat had primarily had the purpose of giving him time to think about what to do.
Severus seemed to have forgotten the previous evening's events entirely, and the more Remus thought about it, the more he asked himself if he should tell him what had happened at all. Surely, the other man would be mortified if he learned about his breakdown. He had just begun to open up to Remus ever so slightly, and, being the highly reserved person he was, the idea of having shown himself so vulnerable in front of another person would be horrible to him.
No, Remus shook his head, maybe he truly should not tell Severus – what good would it do? The situation was difficult enough, and it certainly did not need to deteriorate.
But this was only half of his motivation, as he had to admit deep down inside. There was a second reason why he did not want to upset his colleague even more, and it probably even outweighed the other one: Remus did not want to risk the reluctant friendship that had developed between them. How could he know that Severus would not withdraw from him, too abashed by the events to associate with him any longer? Remus had come to truly feel attached to Severus, and the thought of losing his company was most unwelcome, painful even.
No more challenging chess matches with an equally skilled opponent; no more animated conversations about literature in front of the fire; no more glimpses behind the cold façade of a man who began fascinating him more than he wanted to admitto himself...
No more periods of time when the thought of Sirius did not hurt that much, when the nagging pain was soothed and he almost felt at peace...
He could not let that happen.
An uneasy feeling welled up in him as he made the decision, but he quickly brushed it aside. Sometimes, white lies were better than the truth. No one would gain anything if he told Severus all that had happened. No, it was better this way.
Still, the uneasiness would not fully leave, but he had no time to think about it any further, for now he heard the door of the bedroom open. Turning round, his gaze fell upon Severus, who now was standing stiffly in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes flashing with suppressed emotion.
"Won't you sit down?"
So Lupin seriously expected him to sit and have breakfast with him? If the situation had not been so upsetting, Severus might have felt tempted to laugh at the stupidity of it all. His life recently became more and more absurd. He seemed to have completely lost control over it.
"Listen, Lupin, I'm not interested in these little games. I do not want to sit down. Just tell me what happened!"
The other man shook his head. "It won't kill you to eat something during that. Aren't you hungry?"
Truth be told, Severus did indeed feel extremely hungry, and it would take another hour until breakfast in the Great Hall would be served. He probably could eat something now – and if he did so, maybe the werewolf would finally tell him what he wanted to know.
"Fine." Severus stalked over to the table and sat down stiffly on the longer side of it. Lupin was sitting on the front end to his left.
"Tea?" Lupin asked, and when Severus nodded, he poured him a cup, wordlessly adding some milk before handing it to him. He did not ask if he wanted sugar, and Severus found himself wondering how his colleague knew how he drank his tea. Had he paid that much attention in the past? It almost seemed so, and Severus felt oddly pleased by this. But he must not let himself being distracted by negligibilities. He still had to find out what had happened, why he had awoken in Lupin's bed!
"Would you be so kind as to enlighten me now?" he asked sarcastically.
"Well," Lupin answered lightly, "you fell asleep, and I didn't see the point in waking you when you could sleep here. The bed is big enough – and it's not like I snore."
Severus snorted at this comment. He would definitely have preferred to be woken up instead of finding himself in one bed with the werewolf, would he not? Fresh memories pulled at his mind. The warmth of another body next to him, arms wrapped safely around him, the soothing sound of the other man's heartbeat…
"I could have slept on the sofa," he pointed out, his voice rather harsh in the attempt to brush aside those feelings.
Lupin shook his head. "That was what I intended to do," he replied softly. "You were exhausted and I figured you would need the bed more than I. But you had a nightmare and couldn't sleep alone after that."
Severus was mortified, and, trying to hide it, he shot his colleague an indignant look.
"Do you want to tell me I needed you to sleep with me?" …it had been dark… "I am not a child!"
…a cold, silent darkness…
It was not true, of course.
…it had lasted for ages, or so it seemed to the small boy cowering in the corner of the damp cellar room…
It could not be true.
…father had brought him here after he had beaten him for crying…
He certainly did not need that sort of comfort from the werewolf!
…he still was hurting everywhere, but it hurt even more to know that mother would never return…
Lupin replied something, but Severus did not pay attention to him.
…she had been dead only for two weeks…
Instead, he got wrapped up in memory.
He had been sitting in the dark for so long, willing himself not to cry. Father would not approve of such weakness – he had only punished him because of it, so how could he disappoint him by crying even more? He wanted to make father proud of him. But father had said he would never be capable of doing so, and he was always right. Severus felt tears welling up again, tears he had tried so hard to suppress…
A small sound interrupted the silence, and soon the room was resounding with fierce sobs which were racking the small form on the floor.
"I-I'm s-sorry, father," he choked out into the darkness, "I'm sorry t-to be a d-disa-appointment…"
"Then why don't you stop disappointing me?"
Reluctantly raising his head, Severus saw his father's tall form standing only inches away from himself. He looked even more imposing as he was illuminated only by the greenish glow radiating from the tip of his wand. Severus instinctively shied away from him, crouching deeper into the corner.
"I was going to get you out, but it seems you haven't learnt your lesson yet." His father turned to leave again.
"No, please…"
Only seconds after the hardly audible whisper, a hard blow made him hit the wall and cry out in pain. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, he managed after some minutes to look up at his father again, who was observing him coldly.
"No more backtalking, or you will stay for another four hours. Keep quiet, and I might return in two."
Severus merely nodded, too afraid to speak. When his father turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, darkness again wrapped around the boy.
Keep quiet. Only two more hours. He could do it, he knew it. He had managed it before… His head was hurting so much… and his left arm, which father had twisted earlier… Just keep quiet. Don't make a sound… It was so dark, now even more so after there had been light again… and cold, so cold… Rocking slightly, Severus embraced himself with his good arm. Keep quiet. Keep quiet… He had disappointed father again… He was a shame to his father's name… Keep quiet. Don't disappoint him now… He was weak, worthless…
A low whimper escaped his throat. No! He mustn't! Severus hastily covered his mouth with his hand. Keep quiet! Please, please keep quiet! He was biting his hand, and he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
Slowly, the first tear made its way down his cheek. He willed the next one not to fall, but it would not obey. The third came quicker, and with the fourth came another whimper. No no no, he was crying again…he was disappointing father again…
The door burst open with a loud crack, and through his tears he saw a blurred figure approaching him. But something was wrong, it wasn't father… the man had long, blond hair… and suddenly Severus was not a boy anymore but an adult, naked, stained with clotted blood and dried semen… no, not this, not again… he frantically scrambled away from Lucius, but he was too weak and his trembling body would not obey him… the other man was towering above him, sneering at him, and now he reached out… and all he could do was lie there and cry and beg "Please no… don't… please not again, no no no…"
Touch.
Severus froze. His pleas were reduced to almost imperceptible whimpers.
"Please no…" It could not happen again. "Please no… please no… please no…"
"Shh, Severus… shhh… it's all right…"
More touch.
"Please no…"
"Shhh… it's alright… it's all right… it's Remus… you're safe…" No sneering… no laughter. "You're safe with me, I won't hurt you." It was a friendly voice…
He was held… arms around him…
"Please…" He was still trembling, and the tears would not stop…
"It's all right, you're safe…"
The touch did not hurt… it was soft, tender… his head was resting against a firm chest… a slow, steady rhythm was in his ear… so soothing…
"You're safe… you're safe with me…"
He was safe… he arched closer into the warmth and the tender touch…
"Yes, you're doing well…"
Minutes went by… the other one did not hurt him… it felt so good…
Slowly, the tears and the trembling subsided. But the warmth did not leave, nor did the gentle arms around him, nor the heartbeat to which he was listening. He did not want it to stop… it was so soothing… made him feel so safe… so at peace… step by step it filled out his mind completely… he was tired… so tired…
"… anything wrong?"
Severus blinked. "What?"
"I asked if there was anything wrong. You have been staring into space for… well, quite some time."
Severus turned his gaze towards the other man and saw that he was watching him with concern.
"No," he murmured absent-mindedly. "No, I just… remembered the dream." And then reality caught up with him.
Once again Lupin had seen him cry with fear, had heard him beg and stammer nonsensically, had witnessed how he had debased himself in the worst possible way… had held him, comforted him, guided him back to sleep. Had been there for him when he had needed someone. He was still there for him now, concerned about his well-being. No one ever was, except for Albus, and he could ignore the headmaster, for that matter. But not Lupin. Why? Why was it so different with him? Why did he almost want to trust him?
All this was so unfamiliar, so alien. Severus did not know how to deal with it. One silent second after another passed. The other man's gaze made his skin crawl. It was mortifying.
"Sometimes, I still dream of the werewolf that bit me," Lupin said. He looked away from Severus at his tea, which he now was stirring mechanically. "I have had those dreams ever since I was five, and I should be used to them." His lips curled into a somewhat sad smile. "They're still terrifying."
Slowly, he laid aside the spoon and raised the cup to drink, then put it down again.
"At least I stopped wetting my bed when I was ten. One of my greatest fears was that I would still have that problem when I would be accepted to Hogwarts."
Severus was confused by this confession for some moments, but then he realised the intention behind it. Lupin wanted to help him to overcome his shame, he wanted to tell him that he understood.
"You dreamt of your father, didn't you? Just like in September at Headquarters."
There it was. What should he do now? Just some weeks ago, Severus would not even have asked himself this question. He would merely have sneered at Lupin and left. How dare the werewolf pry like this – Severus's personal matters were none of his business!
But it was not that easy any more… Instead, Severus found himself torn between the almost painful desire to finally confide this part of his past to someone – no, not someone, but Lupin - and the wish to simply get away from all this. Away from his colleague, from his soft voice and his understanding. And it was tempting… so tempting to let go, to share this pain. At least this one. Actually, he had already done so at night. All he had to do was to put it into words.
Almost against his will, Severus felt himself nod. He did not look Lupin in the eyes.
"I…" he began, but trailed off again. It was so difficult to talk about this, and he had to struggle for the right words.
"He was… not an affectionate man," he finally managed, speaking slowly, as if trying to express himself in a seldom used foreign language. He found his gaze glued to his hands, which were wrapped around his cup on the table in front of him.
"He used to beat you," the other man said softly. It was not a question.
Lupin's hands were in his field of vision as well, and the lycanthrope now took his knife and began buttering a piece of toast. They were slender, almost hairless hands with well-groomed nails. Gentle hands as well, so soothing as they had comforted him this night, telling him he could trust their touch, once again reminding him that there existed touch - physical as well as emotional - that did not cause pain. Of course, he had always known this on a mere intellectual level, but experience had taught him otherwise. Suddenly, Severus felt incredibly lonely.
"Yes." The almost inaudible word carried across the silent room.
The hand buttering the toast laid aside the knife, and for a moment Severus thought Lupin might try to touch his hand in a display of sympathy, like many people would have done. But the other man merely reached for the marmalade and then picked up the knife again. Severus was thankful for that. He would not have been able to cope with it, since exposing himself like he had done right now had cost him almost all his strength. He had let Lupin touch him on a non-physical level, and it was almost too much to bear.
His mouth felt terribly dry. Slowly, he forced himself to raise his cup and take a sip of tea. It tasted of nothing, and the dry feeling would not leave. His hunger had vaporised and given way to a slight nausea. When he looked up, the other man was watching him. Severus felt uneasy under the scrutinising gaze and lowered his eyes to the desk again.
There was another moment of silence before his colleague spoke. "Thank you."
"What for?" His surprise shone through in his words, and raising his head, he saw that Lupin was smiling slightly.
"For last night. And for now." There was only sincerity in his voice and eyes. Those understanding hazel eyes. "For trusting me. For letting me come… near you."
The heat that was welling up in him made his fingers numb to the drops of hot tea he spilled as his hands began to shake. The rattling of the porcelain seemed unnaturally loud.
No one wanted to be near him. Experience had taught him that during memorable, painful lessons, and he had learned them well.
Albus had always reached out to him, Severus knew this, but he was indebted far too much to the old wizard to be able to accept it. He knew that Albus felt it was his duty to offer him guidance and friendship, nothing more. It could not be more.
'Do you have the slightest idea what an effort it costs me to touch you? Your mere existence makes me sick!'
Yet, Lupin did touch him. Physically, emotionally.
Voluntarily.
He even thanked him for being allowed to do so.
"You're welcome," Severus finally rasped, and in saying so, he realised that it was entirely true. Lupin was welcome in his life.
He wanted to be touched by him.
Lupin offered him the bread basket. "Would you like some toast?"
Suddenly, Severus felt hungry again.