Albus arrived after the evening meal. Remus and Sirius were looking decidedly tired, slumped as they were at the kitchen table. Half empty plates of cold dinner sat pushed away from them.
"Gentlemen," he said jovially, resting a hand on either man's shoulder.
"Evening Albus," Remus mumbled, rubbing at his temples and yawning wide.
"How is he doing?" The joy and laughter of Dumbledore's tone was gone, replaced by worry.
"Sleeping." Remus stood, offering his chair and taking another cup down from the cupboard. "He's been sleeping most of the day, which is good. When he's awake, it's almost unbearable to watch."
The Headmaster frowned deeply and pointed toward the stairway. "Would it be prudent to leave him be?"
"Go on," Remus smiled. "I doubt he'll wake, but he'd be very upset if he found out we locked you from his room."
Nodding, a small smile returned to his face, Albus excused himself and made his way up the stairs.
Severus' door was open an inch or so. He peeked carefully into the dim light before pushing it open and stepping inside. The warming charm on Snape's room had been removed after Severus finally slept heavily. The blankets were tucked tightly and he wasn't moving much within them.
Sweat stuck Snape's hair to his face and neck, color flushed his face from his fever. Albus sat down gingerly on the side of the bed. The bandaged hand sat beside Severus' head on the pillow. Albus took it carefully and pulled the bandages loose. The wound was raw edged and crusty, still soft and seeping at the very middle.
Clean linen was conjured and Dumbledore lovingly wrapped Severus' hand again.
"Madame Pomfrey has been insisting that I speak to her about your condition," he spoke softly as he pushed Severus' hair aside. "Of course, she does not know where you are or why you are here. She does, however, have a sixth sense for illness. She doesn't believe on your sabbatical at all." He smiled despite himself.
Severus shifted in his blankets, groaning in his sleep.
Albus pat the man's hand carefully and stood. He peered back into the darkness before he pulled the door too and watched Severus whimper softly in his sleep.
"Only sweet dreams, Severus," he wished him before turning to the stairs.
Remus had anticipated his needs and filled a teacup to the brim with hot, dark tea.
"What else is he in store for?" Albus sipped his tea carefully and looked mostly to Remus for his answer.
"The fever will last, and likely grow the closer we get to the full moon. He may get...visions, nightmares," Lupin was blushing lightly and staring into what remained of his cold tea. "More like night terrors, really," he amended softly.
"Is there no medications that can help him?"
"Not at this stage. Not at any stage that I know of." Remus sipped from his cup and looked pensive. "I might be able to find something in his books, but I doubt anything will help."
"A pity," Dumbledore sighed.
"Yes, but I imagine he'll pull through fine," Remus told him.
"I meant for you," Albus pinned him with his calm blue gaze. "At least Severus has a sympathetic ear to help him."
The color of Remus' face deepened drastically. He stuttered a bit then bit his lip. Sirius curled an arm about his shoulders protectively and hugged Remus to him.
"I imagine it will help you both," Albus continued as though the werewolf weren't near a simple breakdown only two chairs away. He took a final sip of tea, leaving better than half of a cup remaining. "I hate to run so quickly, but I find I could be more help finding supplies and another brew master to assist you."
"Of course," Sirius nodded, "thank you, Albus. We'll be sure to tell Severus you stopped by."
"I imagine I can tell him myself. I do intend to come back," Albus' eyes sparkled lightly and smiled as he left.
Sirius released his hold on Remus and cleared the dishes away. "Come on Moony," he tugged on Lupin's sleeve, "time for bed, it's been a long day."
"Severus--"
"I'll sit up with him for a portion of the night," Sirius promised. "I'll trade with you at one, how's that?"
"Fine," Remus smiled, allowing himself to be pulled up and tugged all the way up the stairs.
Sirius made sure he had lain down before he left him alone. Remus didn't dare sleep until he heard the door to Severus' rooms open and shut.
Snape's room was still dark, but much cooler. Sirius checked to make sure the man still slept and helped himself to the potions master's toiletries. He felt smelly and grungy from the day spent in the swelter of Severus' room.
He peeled his clothes off and made a face as they hit the floor with a squelch. The water was blasting and cold for a moment before turning pleasantly hot. There were a few open vials around the tub edge, none labeled. Sirius frowned as he picked one up after the other and sniffed at them. Snape would have to make his own cleaning products and not buy any. After an educated guess--a rather lengthy eenie meenie minie moe--Sirius took up a violet shaded bottle and poured a portion into his palm.
The contents didn't lather well, but it did smell quite nice and rinsed off easily. After another round of sniffs and samples, Sirius decided against washing his hair in anything Snape used. Besides, it wasn't as though it had worked well for the potions master.
He stayed under the spray for another ten minutes, just to enjoy the fall of water before shutting it off and realizing what a complete idiot he was. He hadn't popped into his rooms for any clothes, and he sure as hell wasn't about to put on his filthy garments from the floor.
Sirius emerged from Snape's bath with a thick towel around his waist and nothing else. Snape was still sleeping, though he looked a bit more animated. His face ticked and his visible hand curled into a fist and relaxed.
Timing himself to get a set of clothes--at least a robe and boxers--Sirius hurried from the room and trotted soundlessly to his own. He tugged a set of underwear on and rummaged through his messy drawers, sighing about his own lack of tidiness, and withdrew a pair of pajama bottoms.
The animagus quickly turned, snagging a tank top from the foot of his bed, and made it back to Snape's room in short order. He was proud of himself for his concentration. It was likely that he would have been sidetracked--by something shiny as Severus would have told him--and forgotten his responsibilities.
He was patting himself on the back when he entered the dark room, but quickly forgot his kudos'. Severus was literally thrashing on the bed, his unchecked magic whipping lighter objects through the air. Sirius got hit in the side with a lamp before he stopped gaping and lept into the room.
...oOo...
The darkness was not always Severus' friend. Most times it was a handy cover. He could cower in the shadows, holding his breath and watch as his father's cracked shoes pass by him without a single slow down.
Laying motionless beneath his bed was a welcome and familiar place. The fine layer of dust, the small, billowy balls of fluff and smell of floor wax were sights and smells of comfort for the first seven years of his life.
More than once, the little hovel beneath his bed was his saving grace. He would watch as light shone beneath his door, growing into a wedge that framed a thin and wiry man. His father's shoes echoed loudly in the emptiness and would stop five feet from the bed frame. The man could see no one slept there and would storm off in a rage. Severus didn't know whether to be thankful or mortified that his father turned to his mother. It would take the man nearly three years of Severus' hiding before the drunk realized his son was sleeping on the hard floors with the dust mites.
Eight years old, Severus was again lying, breathing in the dust and debris, trying not to breathe too deeply and start to cough. It was nearing midnight when the light in the hall came on. Severus held his breath and watched the growing spread of light creep across his floor. His father came stepping in as he did often.
This time, when the man paused several feet from the bed, he didn't turn and leave. He fell to his hands and knees and sneered at the surprised boy hiding beneath the box spring. With a snarl, the man grabbed him by the ankle and hauled him out.
Severus tried to grab hold of what he could, cutting his finger tips and the pads of his hands on the sharp spring ends and protruding nail-heads.
"Thought you were clever?" The man snarled, spittle flying from is lips. He took Severus by the hair, hauling him behind. "Think I don't know what you do during the day, eh? Turning your mother against me?" The man's rancid breath, reeking of gin, billowed across Severus' face and he gagged.
"I'll show you where you belong boy," he hissed. The man tossed Severus into the hall, rolling the slight boy into the wall and coming on quickly. He kicked Severus under the ribs and flipped him several feet down the hallway. The poor child couldn't breath, fragile ribs nearly broken and bruising thickly.
He was dragged by an arm toward his father's study. Severus could not catch his breath and screamed silently as he kicked and struggled. His father threw him face first into the room, smiling as Severus tripped over a chair and fell hard on his elbows.
His father hissed, dragging him up by the hair and stepping decidedly toward a window-box seat. The books and pillows that sat on it were sent scattering by the man's free arm and Severus finally did scream as the lid was brought up.
He was thrown bodily into the tight space, arching up beneath his father's press on his chest and sobbing brokenly. His father's face loomed over his, the dark eyes glazed with alcohol and glee. "Should have beat you from your mother's belly. Demon seed you are, child. I can see it in your face." His father looked disgusted and each word he said struck a blow to Severus as hard as his father's fists ever had. "Back to the womb you should have died in!" His father bellowed, slamming the lid down quickly.
Severus beat hard at the cover, beginning to scream again as he heard a lock slip into the latch. "Please!" He cried, slapping his palms against the rough grain as he begged.
What little light he could get through the cracks around the trap went out and he heard his father's study door shut with a bang. His mother wouldn't get him tonight. His father had already locked the door.
...oOo...
Severus woke with a start, smashing the heel of his hand forward and connecting. Whatever was beneath broke with a wet crack and whoever he struck cried out.
"Jesus Christ, Snape!"
Heart pounding hard in his chest, Severus realized his ribs still ached from his dream and the pain was slowly beginning to fade. As the haze cleared he recognized Sirius Black holding his nose and leaning against the wall beside his bed. He was wringing out a cloth and pressing it to his face.
"Black?" He said shakily, watching Sirius dab at his bleeding nose and glare at him.
"Who else you great git?!" Sirius fumed, pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing.
The dark of the room rushed at him and to Severus' horror, his eyes welled with tears. "No," he said softly, cowering into the pillows.
"You were throwing some kind of fit," Sirius accused, stepping into the bathroom and examining his swelling face. "My God, what's wrong with you?"
"Light," Severus mumbled, eyes wide as he stared around him. Fear crept into his system and every shadow danced with his father's vile gaze.
"What?" Sirius stuck his head back into the bedroom, still a bit disgruntled but not as angry as he had been.
"For the love of Merlin, please turn on the light," Severus barked.
Sirius flicked the switch, mouth open and face confused but he stopped from saying anything as he saw the horror on Snape's face. "Are you alright?"
Snape flung the covers over his head and shook his head violently from side to side. He felt like a five year old, but couldn't help himself. The bed dipped beside him, Severus stiffened. A firm hand took hold of the blankets and pulled them from his hands, revealing his head again.
"Snape, did you have a nightmare?" Sirius was sitting beside him, dried blood on his chin and looking calm despite it.
"No," Snape told him quietly. He didn't meet Sirius' gaze. "It was... was..." He couldn't bring himself to finish.
"Do you want me to get Remus?" Sirius asked him. When Snape looked up he could see panic and a bit of hurt on the animagus' face.
"No." They sat in silence, Severus was calming as time passed and Sirius had gone back to gingerly touching his nose.
The potions master yawned widely and struggled to keep his eyes open. Sirius was grinning at him and pushed gently on his shoulder until Severus finally lay down and pulled the blankets back up.
"Do you want me to leave the lights on?" Sirius asked gently, trying not to stir either of them up.
"Turn them off," Snape said with more conviction than he felt. He watched Sirius walk to the wall and tensed as the light switch was struck. Darkness engulfed him quickly and he stared hard into the shadows until his vision sharpened and he could make out the outlines of the room's contents. "Are you staying?"
Even in the dark, Severus could see the surprise on Sirius' face. "Yea, unless you want me to go."
Silence stretched and finally Severus looked back at him, "Stay. Please." The last word was spoken softly, in the voice of a child.
"Okay, Snape," Sirius spoke mildly, "okay."
The animagus sat in a chair by the door, propping his feet at the foot of Severus' bed. Snape watched him soften as he relaxed.
"It was a memory," the potions master whispered to the dark.
"I'm sorry," Sirius told him, his voice as dulcet as Snape's.
"It wasn't you," Severus told him, half serious, "don't apologize."
A brief smirk flickered on Sirius' face. The animagus stood and brought a cup to Snape. The potions master took a grateful drink without bothering to ask if it was laced with any draughts. Sirius returned it to the bedside table as Snape turned onto his side, willing actual dreamless sleep to take him.
Sirius' hand touched his forehead, fingers cool and welcome against his heated skin. He couldn't help turning his face into it, mortified and eased at the same time. The hand withdrew and Severus sighed despite himself.
"Sleep, Snape. I'll be here to keep the bad dreams at bay," There was a wide grin on Sirius' face and Severus huffed, oddly thankful that Sirius was being insensitive. There was a solace in the tone that wasn't there in Black's words.
"Thank you, Black," Severus whispered before he could stop himself.
The cocky grin on Sirius' face fell and the animagus looked at him with true worry as he bit his lip. Severus snorted and shifted further into his pillows.
...oOo...
True to his promise, Sirius stretched himself awake at one and checked Snape quietly before crossing the hall.
Remus was chewing on the corner of his pillow in his sleep. A tense furrow marred the smooth spot between his eyebrows. Sirius smiled despite himself and touched it with his thumb. Remus sighed softly and the stress melted away under Sirius' touch.
"Remy?" Sirius skimmed the wolf's hair with the tips of his fingers.
"Mmmm?" Lupin shifted, rolling flat on his back.
"There you are, Moony," Sirius smiled as Remus ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and yawned.
"Too early," Remus mumbled, rolling onto his side. He pulled Sirius down onto the bed--much to Sirius' surprise--and buried his face into Sirius' shoulder. His arms threaded around the animagus' waist and pinned him tightly in place.
"Remus Jonathan Lupin," Sirius breathed with a laugh. Remus stirred, drawing his head back enough to look up sleepily. "As much fun as this is, I believe it's your turn with the Slytherin Terror."
The sleepy confused look that spread across Remus' face was nearly too much for Sirius. He felt himself being drawn towards his friend's face, his eyes slanting closed of their own accord but before he actually managed to kiss him, Remus' eyes widened and he lept from the bed.
"Severus!"
Startled, Sirius fought the heat that warmed his cheeks and climbed off of the bed at his own pace. He watched Remus rummage for a jumper, and filled him in. "Snape had a nightmare around ten. A doozy too. Unchecked magic and all of that. He hasn't since, but his temperature is still up."
"Right, right," Remus nodded, mumbling to himself and tugged his sweater over his head. "Sirius, I know I've been giving you a hard time about this, but I want to thank you for going this far."
"I already told you, Moony, I want to." Sirius felt his stomach clench and his heart stopped beating for a second as Remus spun toward him quickly and took his face in his hands. "Moony?"
"What's happened to your nose, Padfoot?"
Sirius let out a relieved laugh and touched the bridge. "That was my reward for waking Snape from his dream. It's a bit tender, but it'll do in a couple of days."
Remus looked vaguely upset and touched the swelling gingerly, "Do you want to take anything for it?"
"Naw," Sirius grinned wide. "It doesn't hurt so bad anymore and it'll give Snape a laugh for another day."
"Alright," Remus appeared thoughtful, a lightness about his face that made Sirius proud of what he'd said, even if he didn't know why. "Go to sleep, there's still five more days of a sick Severus to go through yet. And then..."
"Right," Sirius sobered.
He followed Remus into the hall and watched the shorter man disappear into Snape's room. On the short path to his room, Sirius wondered what exactly had come over him when he lay next to Remus. He had shared many a bunk with the man before and hadn't felt a desire for him. Maybe he was just tired. It's possible it had been a fluke. Or maybe he was lonely.
...oOo...
Remus could smell the heightened musk of Severus' sweat as he shut the door. An under tang of the copper was the taste of fear from Snape's nightmare. It was a weak taste, but there enough to notice; it left a bitter film on the back of the tongue.
One palm found Snape's forehead and the sleeping man moaned beneath it before resettling in sleep again.
Remus sat in the chair Sirius had vacated, wondering if there really was anything he could do to help Severus. Albus believed so, but whether or not he had the actual skills or drive to help the potions master, Remus was starting to doubt.
It was a lifetime ago that Remus went through the change. Most of it was spent in such intense fever and pain that only those aches were present when he tried to remember what else could happen in the next 120 hours.
Those pains, and his mother's face.
All he had wanted was the comfort his mother brought. Now, in hindsight, he couldn't blame the woman for running as she had. He had begun tearing things apart without regard to what or who it was. It was the pain that did it. It left him writhing on the bedspread and curling his fingers into whatever soft thing he could get a hold of.
Remus stared at Severus through the darkness and promised himself that the sick wizard would do better.