During the next few days, Severus visited Remus every evening. He never stayed longer than an hour, and their conversations usually circled around their students – Remus listening patiently as Severus found it necessary to point out yet again just why he despised each and every one of them. Remus was sure many others would have found this annoying, and although he could not agree with Severus in the slightest, he enjoyed this more than any other time of the day. The mere fact that Severus willingly came to see him and talk to him every day made him hopeful for the future. It really appeared that the ice between them had been broken, and although the atmosphere turned awkward as soon as they would touch at any personal subject, he was content with the fact that it, even if seldom, happened at all.
Moreover, Severus's visits helped him to get his thoughts off Sirius, if only for a short time – something that was particularly difficult during the days after the full moon. Harry, who stopped by on Saturday morning, did not manage to do so, and Remus almost felt a little guilty for it.
Therefore, he was a little disappointed when on Tuesday morning, Poppy announced that he was well enough to return to his quarters. She forbid him to teach for at least another day, then ushered him out of the door with the advice that he better take care of himself, her brusque tone hardly concealing the worry about what would happen at the next full moon. Remus doubted that Severus would continue his daily visits, now that he was out of the infirmary – now that he was not officially sick any more.
He spent the day mostly on the sofa with a book, deciding that he could prepare his classes for Thursday the next day. His right hip and side, where he had several long and deep gashes, were hurting, and he was glad he did not have to move. On the other hand, he was determined to not stay away from the classroom any longer than necessary – Severus had enough to worry about. He most certainly did not need the additional burden of teaching more classes over a prolonged period of time.
It was shortly after seven in the evening, and he had just been about to have dinner in the living room, not yet feeling up to going to the Great Hall, when Remus heard a by now familiar curt knocking on the door to his quarters. Smiling, he laid aside the fork – it was Severus.
"Yes, come in."
After he had entered, Severus got to the point immediately.
"Madam Pomfrey told me she had released you. It's good you seem to be better. I wanted to ask you for how much longer you will be indisposed."
Remus's face fell a little – was that the only reason for Severus's visit? He had not even closed the door behind himself.
"Just tomorrow, thank you," he replied, trying not to let his disappointment show. "I don't want to burden you with more work than necessary."
.-.-.-.-.
Severus was surprised. He would not have thought Lupin would take up work again so quickly. He looked as though he could need some more days of rest. But then – it was hardly his place to tell him so, was it?
"Well, then... if you think you're up to it..." Severus hesitated, but realised he did not know anything more to say that would have justified him staying for a little longer. It was not Friday, and Lupin was not in the infirmary any more, either. "I have to go. I still have some research to do in the library. Good evening, Lupin."
He had already turned and was heading for the door when Lupin called him back: "Wait! It's dinner time. Won't you eat with me? That potion can wait for half an hour, right?"
Actually, it was improvements on the Wolfsbane Potion that Severus wanted to research, not the Imperius Potion as the other man probably assumed, but he said nothing. He was too busy concealing his relief at the prospect of spending some time with his colleague. This particular evening, he needed it more than during the preceding few. His last class of the day had been a fifth-year Gryffindor/Slytherin Double Potions, and the one before had been a stand-in class for Lupin with the same students. He had spent both classes with the desperate and rather pointless attempt to ignore Ginevra Weasley, who had immediately conjured up the image of the dead red-headed girl in his mind the second his eyes had fallen on her. At the end of the Potions class, he had been determinedly staring down at his desk, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, while the students had been trying to complete their potions without breathing, not keen at all on falling prey to whatever dark mood had befallen their teacher now.
Severus nodded and closed the door, then sat down with Lupin, who called a house-elf to bring him something to eat. He had not had the intention to have dinner tonight - the Great Hall with all the people was the last place he could possibly want to be after this day, and the mere idea of eating had sickened him. Lupin's presence, however, seemed to change this, for whatever inexplicable reason: after half an hour, Severus had almost emptied his plate.
They had not talked much – Severus had not felt up to it, and thankfully, Lupin had not tried again when it had become obvious that he would not get anything but short, vague answers. Severus found that this was also something he liked about the other man: there were few people with whom he could talk, and even fewer with whom one could not talk without the silence being an awkward one.
He did not know how Lupin had managed it, doing nothing but being there, but after dinner, he felt much better than he had before - even the lifeless brown eyes which had haunted him for the previous hours had temporarily disappeared. Maybe it was the simple fact that Lupin had invited him to stay, that he showed that he appreciated Severus's presence - also outside their fixed appointments, or exceptional circumstances.
Therefore, he was even more resolved to spend the evening, like the previous one, with the attempt to find some kind of solution for Lupin's problem. The Dark Lord would be displeased about the delay concerning the Imperius Potion, but Severus knew he did not have to fear too much. His master might be a madman, but he was not stupid – if he punished him too often and excessively with his favourite curse, the Cruciatus, the nerve damage would in the end render Severus useless as potions brewer. The Dark Lord needed him, and he knew it.
.-.-.-.-.
Remus, too, was glad about how things had developed. Severus's willingness to stay as soon as Remus had asked him had lifted his spirits considerably. When both of them had finished their food, he got up to bring Severus to the door, but immediately, he slumped down on his chair again with a pained groan, pressing a hand to his injured hip. He had felt so cheerful that he had not even thought about it any more and had moved far too carelessly – although the term "not ridiculously slowly and carefully" would have been more adequate. Poppy had bestowed him with a generous amount of painkilling potion, but he had only taken a minimal dose to keep the worst pain in check. For a reason he knew but did not want to think about, he wanted to feel this, wanted to be remembered of what had happened, and why.
When the pain had abated a little, he noticed that Severus was observing him apprehensively. For some moments, the other man said nothing, then he seemed to have made a decision.
"I will teach your classes for the rest of the week," he announced in a voice that Remus supposed he usually used in class when reprimanding a particularly foolish student. "The last thing I need is you to overwork and then have a relapse – which would result in even more work for me."
"No, I'm fine, I can -" Just like to contradict him, a sharp pain now surged through his side and made him gasp – now he was even being punished for breathing too deeply!
"Don't be ridiculous." Severus sounded determined to tolerate no objections, and Remus nodded in defeat. As much as he disliked it, his colleague was right. Remus would not do him a favour if he asked too much of himself now.
"All right." He smiled faintly. "Thank you. I know you're under much stress lately. I appreciate what you're doing for me." After a moment of thinking, he added, "Would you like to stop by for dinner again tomorrow? I don't think I'll make it to the Great Hall."
Severus seemed to hesitate for a second, then he nodded curtly. "Yes, I would like that. But now I have to go." He gave Remus a pointed look before he turned to leave. "Don't bother getting up. I assure you that I will find the door on my own."
Even though it did not do his side any good, Remus could not help laughing. "See you tomorrow, then."
Monday evening found both Severus and Lupin, who was now limping around with the help of a cane, in the Great Hall for dinner. They had indeed eaten together on Wednesday, as well as on the remaining four days of the week. Each evening, Lupin had invited Severus to come back the next day, saying he did not "feel up" to eating with the rest of the school again, and Severus had accepted, even though he was sure it was no more than an excuse. But unlike he would have done some weeks ago, he did not care about this any longer. Instead, he had contented himself with the pleasant feeling that Lupin seemed to value his presence so much that he even wanted to see him on a daily basis. It was surprising how easily he had got used to this in only a few days – and how much he missed it now.
He lifted his gaze from the plate with the barely touched food, only to find himself beholding the Weasley girl, who was hurrying toward the Gryffindor table, obviously being late for dinner. She flopped down on the bench unceremoniously and instantly began chattering away at one of her friends in an excited manner, raking a hand through the long, red hair that was tousled from running.
"Severus, are you not well?" the headmaster's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
Severus clenched his fist around the fork and forced himself to look away from the girl. "Thank you, I'm fine. Just a little tired."
He was not able to bear the old man's worried look for more than a few moments, though, and therefore found himself staring at his plate once more, forcing another spoonful of vegetables down his throat, if only to prevent any other concerned questions. With Lupin, it was so entirely different, and not for the first time this evening did he wish they could have gone on with having dinner in private. But of course, that was not really an option. As teachers, they had to regularly participate in the official meals.
Only ten minutes later, Severus finally laid aside his fork. He had not eaten much more, and Lupin's attempts at conversation had ended in little more than polite small talk. It just was not the same as when they were alone – with their colleagues surrounding them, he felt no desire to participate in any social activity. When he got up and left, a blue and a brown pair of eyes looked after him in concern.
"Severus?" Remus lightly touched the sleeping man's shoulder, not wanting to startle him. It was half past nine on Wednesday evening, and he had found his colleague deeply asleep in the library, his head resting on an unfolded roll of ancient-looking parchment, the desk around him covered with similarly aged and dusty documents and tomes.
Severus had not turned up for dinner. This was not the most unusual thing to happen – his partaking in meals had never been as regular as that of most of his colleagues – but Remus had been unable to not feel worried, as he had been each time during the last weeks when this had happened. He knew he was probably being overly apprehensive, but he had found that he could not change it – and that he did not want to. Moreover, this had been a welcome opportunity to spend some time with Severus before Friday evening, and so he had decided to pay the other man a visit.
He had not found him in his quarters or his office, however. Of course, it was possible that Severus had been called to Voldemort and was therefore absent – a thought that had made Remus feel decidedly miserable – but he had decided to try his luck in the library anyway before returning to his own rooms. Since Severus was pressured to do research for his tasks for Voldemort, he might as well be there.
"Hmph?" was the only reaction he got, but when he tried again, the other man moved, his elbow bumping into a pile of books which fell from the table with a noise that would have certainly earned them Madam Pince's eternal disapproval had not the library been closed for students by now, which meant that she was not present.
Within a matter of seconds, Severus was wide awake, staring up at Remus in confusion.
"Lupin? What are you doing in my…" He fell silent, looking around himself. It was obvious that he was not where he had expected to be.
"I was looking for you," Remus explained. "You weren't at dinner, and I thought maybe we could eat together."
The other man seemed surprised at first, but then nodded. "I didn't even notice it was dinnertime already. Too much work. How late is it?"
"Half past nine," Remus answered. "I did some work for classes tomorrow before I went looking for you."
.-.-.-.-.
Severus did not even remember falling asleep: the last thing he knew was that he had been brooding over an old text on hypnotic herbs, written in a dialect that was more similar to Chaucer's than their Modern English. The lecture of the introduction book on the language that Lupin had given him had proven to be beneficial even for his work.
He had not got as far with the research as he would have liked to this evening, but he did not feel up to continuing. He needed to be able to concentrate, and right now he felt nothing but tired and scatterbrained – he had dreamt something decidedly bizarre, but could not remember many details, just that someone had wished him a happy birthday, and then Black and James Potter had appeared and had begun mocking him in Middle English.
"Thank you," he now said to Lupin, "I wouldn't have liked sleeping like this all night long." His neck and shoulders were already tense and hurting slightly from the uncomfortable sleeping position. He tried to loosen the muscles a bit and grimaced slightly, then yawned involuntarily.
"Maybe dinner wasn't such a good idea," Lupin suddenly said. "If you'd like to go to bed now, I'll just help you to bring back the books and then go."
But Severus shook his head. "No. I would like some company. And don't bother with the books." He pointed toward Remus's cane. "Crawling around on the floor will not make it better."
Severus knew he was completely overworked and sleep-deprived, and going to bed would have been reasonable – if he were sure he would be able to sleep decently. But since the testing of the Imperius Potion, the nights had been even worse than usual, and the idea of a quiet hour with Lupin was much more appealing than the prospect of tossing around in his bed sleeplessly, or even dreaming.
It did not take him long to pick up the books and scrolls, of which luckily none had been damaged. Some of them were so old that the pages were likely to get loose and fall out if they were not treated with care. They then brought them back to their respective shelves and vitrines and left the library, heading for Lupin's rooms.
During dinner, their conversation mainly circled around Severus's birthday present. Even though he had found it to be helpful even for his work – a fact that he mentioned and that seemed to please Lupin a great deal – he found the subject interesting on its own. By the time they had both cleared their plates, he found himself despite his fatigued state talking quite enthusiastically about the differences between Middle and Modern English he had been able to define so far.
Lupin, however, did not appear to be very interested. He looked distracted, maybe even concerned, and seemed to have to force himself to answer. After a short while, Severus gave up pretending not to notice.
"Lupin, you aren't listening to a word I'm saying. Is there anything wrong?" He knew that sometimes, he did not feel like making conversation at all, either, and Lupin looked as though something was bothering him. Making someone else talk to him about his worries was something he would never have considered some time ago, but now it did not seem like such a bad idea any more.
The other man did not answer immediately, but stared back at him rather uneasily. What was he looking at? Had Severus made a mess on his robes with the sauce and not noticed? But that was ridiculous – Lupin would have told him and would not be so reluctant now. So, what reason could...
'The Glamour Charm.'
He had fallen asleep in the library, and of course, the charm had worn off as soon as he had been sleeping. When Lupin had woken him up, he had not even wasted one thought on it, even though he usually took great care to never be seen without it.
All of a sudden, Severus felt extremely uneasy in the other man's company. Surely, Lupin must be aghast at Severus sight – who would not be? And especially because there was quite a difference between his real looks and the illusion the charm created. What should he do now?
Lupin preceded anything Severus might say, though. "You needn't worry," he said softly. "I knew you were using a Glamour before tonight."
"What?!"
"You fell asleep in my quarters. We slept in one bed, and woke up together," Lupin reminded him quietly.
Severus felt like an idiot. How could he not have thought of it? The other man must think him a complete muddlehead.
"Why did you never tell me?" he demanded angrily. Knowing this, he now felt even more exposed than he had just a few moments ago. If Lupin had known all the time, that meant he must have been able to see Severus's real appearance for over two weeks – without ever saying a word!
"I'm sorry," Lupin replied. "I probably should have. Also because, well...that wasn't the first time I saw it. Remember when we had that nasty argument back in November? You weren't well, and the Glamour failed sometimes." He sighed. "I wasn't sure how to tell you. I didn't want to embarrass you."
Damn the man, but Severus believed him immediately. It would have been embarrassing – heck it was, right here and now! But it was odd – were it anyone else, he would feel much more upset, he was sure of that. The mere idea had always made him sick. Now, however, even though there was embarrassment and anger, he also felt something almost akin to...relief? Could that be possible?
Yes, he realised in surprise...it wasn't half as bad as he would have thought. It felt good to have someone know the truth – someone other than Albus and Madam Pomfrey. And if Lupin had known for months, then he couldn't be all that appalled, since he still had wanted to spend time with him.
"It's all right," Severus finally said after a somewhat awkward silence. "I don't mind you knowing. But...do you think anyone else has noticed?" This was something he really didn't like to imagine. If the charm had failed once without him noticing, it could have happened again.
Lupin shook his head. "Other than Albus? I don't think so. They..." he hesitated for a moment, sounding rather uncomfortable as he went on. "I don't believe they pay that much attention."
Of course, Lupin was right. His colleagues, or even the students, were surely not interested enough in him to notice something like this. And even if the charm had flickered every now and then – Snape looking ugly and pale was certainly no surprise to anyone. It was doubtful they would give it a second thought.
"You're right. And Albus...well, I doubt there is anything in this castle he doesn't know."
Lupin smiled weakly. "He's just as worried as me."
"I know." Severus pinched his nose tiredly. "But I can't do anything. You know that I'm...not sleeping well. And I have too much work to do. Classes, and my work for the Dark Lord. He is very demanding, and displeased that I haven't made sufficient progress." He did not mention his work at the improved Wolfsbane. Lupin would only feel guilty about causing him even me trouble, he was sure of that.
"If you want, I could try and help you with the research."
Severus was surprised by the offer, but declined after only a moment of thinking. "Thank you, but no. I remember how abysmal you were at Potions. And even if you were better at it, and I told you what I need, I can't be sure you would not overlook something important. The most interesting things are often hidden in appendices or footnotes, and besides, most ingredients have gone by a dozen names during the last centuries. You wouldn't even know what to look for."
"Yes, I know you're right." Lupin looked disappointed. "I just wish I could do something."
Severus smiled thinly. "You could get me from the library at nine tomorrow evening. I'm sure I will be hungry by then."
"All right, then. I'll make sure Dobby gets us something nice." Lupin smiled back at him, and Severus felt relieved. The last thing he wanted was to add to Lupin's troubles even more – although in the back of his mind, he knew it was too late for that by far.
During the weeks before the next full moon, Severus would have dinner with Lupin at his colleague's quarters about every third evening. Usually, he would forget to go to the official meal, brooding over his research either in the library or in his office, and around nine, Lupin would turn up and ask him to eat with him. They were quiet and pleasant meals, sometimes followed by half an hour of talking before Severus announced he needed to go back to work.
They actually were so pleasant that once or twice, he found himself deliberately staying away from the Great Hall, so he would be able to eat with Lupin instead. Some time ago, he would have been angered beyond bounds by his own behaviour, but now, all he felt was a vague astonishment about himself, and even that faded quickly. With every time, he realised more how much he enjoyed their time together, how much he looked forward to the next time, and how used he had already got to Lupin's... well, it seemed that by now, he could feel justified in calling it "friendship". He deemed it better not to touch on the subject with Lupin, though. Things were good as they were – there was no need to complicate them by talking about it.
Not everything was all right, however, as he noticed all too soon. As the full moon grew near once again, he observed with concern how Lupin got quieter, how his smiles got fewer, how weary he seemed to be. Severus knew what the other man feared – that once again the Wolfsbane Potion would fail, and the werewolf would take him over, consumed with guilt over Black's death.
Despite the fact that he had spent three quarters of his free time on research on the improvement of the Wolfsbane instead of working on the Imperius Potion as he should have done, Severus had not yet found a way to help his colleague. Seeing Lupin grow nervous and pale as the full moon approached, he had intensified his efforts, often sitting over his books or experimenting in his lab until far into the early morning hours, but until now, not much had come from it.
Truth be told, seeing Lupin like this was something that bothered him more than he would have thought possible only a little while ago. He wished he could do more than trying to find a way to improve the potion some day in the future. What of the meantime? However, with his teaching schedule, research for two highly complicated potions and Death Eater summonings in irregular intervals, he found hardly time to think about it more deeply. He might dislike it, but he could not do more than he did right now.
He was doing too much already, and he felt his body protest more with each passing day. More than once, he fell asleep over his work either in his office, in his lab, or in the library. Severus hated especially the latter: it meant making himself vulnerable to the people who might find him like this – a thought he could hardly bear. He did not mind so much if it was, like on a few occasions, Lupin, but there had been others.
Albus, once, in the middle of the night, looking at him with this sad and compassionate expression Severus had always hated on the old man – although, in a way he did not quite fully understand, it would have been even worse had it been absent. Madam Pince another time, just before leaving. She had not said anything other than "You might want to go to bed," and Severus had been thankful for the dim light in the dark corner he usually worked in, but still...he could have done without it, definitely. Once, he had even jerked awake from a light doze because a student had dropped a book nearby. What if they had seen him? Things could not go on like this, but unfortunately, he had no solution, either.
And then, one night, two days before the full moon, when almost everyone else had long gone to bed, Severus awoke to the dusty silence of the library once more. He was drenched in sweat and trembling, because he had been dreaming, and this dream had left him more horrified than any person's discovery of the Glamour Charm and his pitiful state could have made him be.
Because now he remembered everything.
.-.-.-.-.
"You lied to me!"
All the way to Lupin's quarters, he had thought about what to say, had made up elaborate sentences to properly express his anger. But now that the man was standing in front of him, already clad in his pyjamas – he had obviously just caught him getting ready for bed – all he could think of saying was this. And just as Lupin, he winced at the tone of betrayal and hurt in his voice.
"Severus? I don't know what you..."
"Yes, you do. I shouldn't have believed you in the first place. I, falling asleep on your couch, just like that, ridiculous! I was having a full-blown panic attack, and you served me that stupid story afterwards, when you realised I didn't remember! What were you thinking?" He was not all too coherent, but he couldn't help it. He felt like destroying something and screaming; it was a miracle he was able to behave this civilly.
Realisation slowly replaced Lupin's confused expression, followed by shock and regret. But Severus was far too angry to pay more than vague attention to it.
"Why? Tell me! I thought..." He took a deep breath. Admitting this was hard, now more than ever. "It might have been idiotic of me, I see that now, but I actually thought we were becoming friends."
Lupin opened his mouth to say something, but Severus cut him off. He was not in the mood to listen to excuses. Not again. "It seems I was wrong. I'm not an expert in the field of interpersonal relationships, let alone friendship. I haven't had the opportunity. But lying to each other certainly isn't a basis for anything."
He crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively - his ability of feeling even remotely comfortable around Lupin had vanished. He had come to terms with the fact that his colleague knew about the Glamour Charm, knew that he was overworked and tired all of the time; that he knew Severus was having nightmares because of things done to him by the man who called himself his father. Even that he had been helping him deal with it all for several weeks now had been something he had no longer felt so ashamed about any more. But this...this was different.
"I thought I could trust you!"
The words were hanging in the air for some time, Severus glaring at Lupin, who stood there pale and miserable-looking.
.-.-.-.-.
"I'm sorry." It sounded pathetic even in Remus's own ears. "I really am. I thought it would be better if... I mean, I can't imagine you would have wanted me to know..." He trailed off and looked away, not knowing what to say.
It had all gone too quickly, and even if he had had the best excuse in the world and had been right in his decision, he knew it would not matter to Severus. The simple truth was that he had lied to him, had betrayed his trust, and he was certain that Severus would not be able to get over that any time soon, if at all.
"I'm sorry," he murmured again, even though he knew it would not change anything.
Severus stared at him silently for some more moments, then turned and left without another word.