Chapter Text
May 1994
Remus Lupin’s office at Hogwarts was perfectly comfortable. In fact, it and its adjacent bedchamber were the most comfortable accommodations he’d had since graduating. He tried to remember to be grateful, as he read Seamus Finnegan’s essay for what seemed like the hundredth time.
He squinted at the parchment, trying to interpret Seamus’s shaky penmanship, but was unable to decide if Seamus had written his essay about kelpies or kappas. A small voice inside him, which sounded a bit like Sirius Black, suggested scribbling an A on the top of the paper and moving on, but his conscience wouldn’t let him.
Instead, he shuffled the parchment to the bottom of the stack, a problem for a later time.
The next essay, Dean Thomas’s, was definitely about kappas. It was also almost word-for-word the same as Seamus’s. Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off memories of telling Sirius and James that Professor McGonagall would notice if Sirius copied James’s essay. At least they’d taken the resulting detention in good grace, and Remus had gotten to smugly say that he’d told them so.
He missed the days when he’d been able to go for months without thinking of James and Sirius. Or Peter, for that matter. Being back at Hogwarts, especially with Sirius’s escape from Azkaban, reminded him of everything better left forgotten.
Forcing himself to stop thinking of the Marauders and better days, he tried to bring his attention back to grading.
He didn’t normally struggle to correct the students’ work, but tonight he was chilled, despite the fire that he’d lit in the fireplace, and his muscles ached. The full moon was tonight, bringing with it an assortment of pains, and, to make matters worse, he’d caught the flu that had been circulating among the students. Even his teeth hurt.
Unlike the students, who were quickly cured after a trip to Madame Pomfrey, he couldn’t take Pepperup potion. It would interfere with the Wolfsbane potion. The pain and risk of an uncontrolled transformation far outweighed the inconvenience of a cold.
Swallowing heavily and hoping that his roiling stomach settled down soon, he reread Dean’s essay and decided that it would have received an E, if not for the plagiarism.
Remus groaned aloud. Dealing with the students’ blatant cheating would mean extra effort for him. He’d have to schedule detentions, try to deliver an understanding but stern lecture and maybe even offer them the opportunity to redo the assignment. None of this was anything he felt up to planning tonight.
He shuffled Dean’s essay to the bottom of the pile too.
Sighing, he gave up pretending to grade and pushed the rolls of parchment away. Resting his pounding head on his desk, he wished he could turn in for the night. Unfortunately, he needed to take the last dose of Wolfsbane first.
Access to free and safely brewed Wolfsbane was the other massive perk of his position here. Remus tried to ignore the way his throat felt like he was swallowing shards of glass and reminded himself to be grateful for the Wolfsbane too.
He normally was. He was usually beyond grateful for the opportunity to hold down a stable job, particularly one that came with room and board and, most importantly, a way to keep him safe during the full moons. Wolfsbane had been life-changing.
He just wished he could have Pepperup too.
Groaning, Remus forced himself to sit upright. There was no point in feeling sorry for himself. His situation was much better than it had been at this time last year, and he’d be able to visit Madame Pomfrey first thing tomorrow morning.
Besides, Severus would be here any minute with the last dose of the potion. Remus sighed again and rubbed his eyes, resolving to keep the conversation short and to the point when he arrived. He didn’t feel up to maintaining a facade of politeness while Severus tried to verbally spar with him.
At the beginning of the year, he’d expected outright cruelty and maybe even sabotage from Severus. He hadn’t forgotten the depth of the animosity between Severus and James and Sirius. Nor had he forgotten his failure to rein James and Sirius in before they went too far.
Severus’s sneered greeting at the Welcoming Feast had told him that Severus found him just as culpable now as he had back then.
Remus had spent the first few full moons in the Shrieking Shack, worried that Severus might have misbrewed the Wolfsbane on purpose. If Severus had wanted the potion to fail, its complexity would have given him the perfect excuse to avoid blame.
But Severus had done nothing. Nothing that is, except for brewing Wolfsbane that eased the pain of his transformation and kept everyone around him safe. Eight months, and eight full moons later, Remus had come to trust that Severus took his responsibilities seriously.
Still, Remus doubted they’d ever be collegial. Severus never hesitated to make a snide comment. And his changes to Remus’s lesson plans whenever he was forced to cover classes for him were a constant point of contention.
But, despite the friction between them, Remus had come to appreciate Severus’s professionalism, even if he remained wary of him on a personal level.
As if summoned, there was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Severus, his brows drawn down over his dark eyes and his lip twisted in a sneer. He held a smoking goblet in his hand.
“The potion,” he said in lieu of a greeting.
“Severus, thank you. Please come in.” Remus made a point of always using Severus’s first name. Even though Severus never reacted, he knew it must drive him crazy. Even better, it made Remus look friendly, like he’d set their history aside.
Severus sniffed disdainfully but moved into the room, stopping several steps short of the desk. He held the goblet out and lifted an eyebrow, clearly expecting Remus to come get it, when anyone else would have come all the way across the room and set the goblet down on the desk.
Miserable bastard, Remus thought and immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t Severus’s fault that he felt shaky and unwell and didn’t want to get up. Besides, Severus had invested considerable time and effort into making the potion for him. He’d even brought it all the way up to Remus’s third floor office. Letting Severus win his immature power play shouldn’t affect Remus at all.
Gritting his teeth, Remus pushed himself up and walked around the desk, ignoring the way his joints creaked. He didn’t let himself wince, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.
Remembering that he had intended to keep the interaction short, he hurriedly reached out his hand to take the Wolfsbane, accidentally closing his hand half over Severus’s on the goblet. Before he could readjust his awkward grip, Severus jerked his hand back with an annoyed glare.
Remus clutched desperately at the goblet, but before he had a chance to do anything, it slipped out of his fingers and tumbled to the floor with a loud clang. Remus stared at the spilled potion in horror. The only sound in the room was the metallic noise of the goblet as it rolled around the puddle of blue potion on the floor and came to a stop. His hand was still frozen in its outstretched position, clawing after the dropped goblet.
Remus was almost surprised that he didn’t see his heart lying on the floor beside the Wolfsbane, given that it had dropped right through his stomach. For a wild moment, he considered getting down on the floor and licking the potion up. He really didn’t want to spend the night as a vicious werewolf, a danger to everyone. The calm transformations with Wolfsbane were incomparably better.
Only imagining how Severus would react to seeing him do something so humiliating stopped him from trying. Besides, if adding sugar made the potion useless, what would dirt from the floor do? Numbly, Remus tried to resign himself to another awful and dangerous transformation.
“I should have known you would be so juvenile as to try to avoid your responsibilities just because you don’t like the taste of the potion. Dropping it doesn’t mean you don’t have to take it,” Severus said icily, bending to pick up the goblet. “I have more in my office.”
“You have more? Oh, thank God.” Remus’s heart restarted and he was able to breathe again. He didn’t bother trying to hide his relief from Severus.
“Yes,” Severus said slowly. He seemed surprised by Remus’s fervent response. “There’s enough left in the cauldron for a full dose.”
Severus turned and started for the door, his robes flaring around him. He paused when Remus didn’t immediately follow, still dazed by the shock and panic of dropping the potion and the all-encompassing relief of knowing there was more available.
“Well? Aren’t you coming? I’m not going to hand-deliver it a second time.”
“Right. Of course.” Remus hid a groan. A trip down to the dungeons was the last thing he wanted to do. But it was much better than the alternative.
He followed Severus to the stairs, trying to keep his gait normal and match Severus’s speed, despite his aches. Despite his best efforts, he began to fall behind.
Severus didn’t appear to notice at first, continuing to the dungeons with his typical purposeful stride, but before they’d even reached the first floor, Remus was almost an entire flight behind. Severus paused on the landing, looking back up at Remus with an assessing look on his face.
Resolutely telling himself that it didn’t matter what Severus thought of him, Remus continued down the stairs, step by step. He gripped the handrail tightly, not willing to entirely trust his shaky legs. When he reached the landing, he nodded politely at Severus, trying not to appear out of breath.
Severus’s eyebrows drew down, and for a moment it seemed like he would speak, but then he turned away and continued down the stairs.
Wishing he’d had a longer break on the landing, Remus followed after him. He fancied that Severus was walking more slowly now, but he was sure it was just in his imagination. In any case, he didn’t fall too far behind before they reached Severus’s office.
The dungeons were dark and cold, and Remus had to suppress a shiver, thinking longingly of the fire in his office. Thankfully, the hallway in front of Severus’s office was deserted. Remus didn’t want to encourage any gossip among the students, who after all had been receiving lectures about werewolves intermittently through the year and might make the connection between a poorly professor, a specially brewed potion and the full moon.
Remus resisted the urge to lean against the wall while Severus unlocked his office door. Instead, he tried to regulate his breathing, sure that even if he’d been able to hide being out of breath on the landing, it was obvious now.
With a suspicious glance at Remus and a quietly muttered password, Severus opened the door. He motioned Remus into his office with a short, irritated wave. Remus did his best to move smoothly, instead of limping, as he passed Severus.
Inside, the odour of Wolfsbane was strong, and Remus almost gagged. He swallowed and sternly told his stomach to behave itself. Hoping to find a distraction, he looked around the room. Its decor was everything he’d come to expect from Severus – dark and moodily mysterious with no personal details.
One wall was lined with bookcases, presumably hiding the entrance to Severus’s personal quarters. At the far side of the room, there was a desk that appeared similar to his own, right down to the heaps of parchment littering it. An uncomfortable wooden chair sat in front of the desk, likely for any unlucky miscreant who had to serve detention in Severus’s office.
A long table stood against the third wall. The only thing on the table was a cauldron that gave off clouds of blue smoke, clearly containing the remainder of the Wolfsbane potion. Remus felt another wave of relief at the sight of it. He hadn’t thought Severus had lied, but it was good to see proof.
Without waiting for an invitation, he sank gratefully into the wooden chair. His eyes fell on the jars of preserved potions ingredients on the shelves lining the walls, and he had to hurriedly swallow again. The sight wouldn’t normally bother him, but he usually wasn’t already nauseated. Turning away from the sight, he caught sight of Severus, who was glaring at him again.
“Go ahead, make yourself comfortable,” Severus drawled.
Remus winced internally. He hadn’t even thought about how it would look to Severus, too grateful for the opportunity to sit down. He briefly considered apologising but decided to forge on and hope the awkward moment would be forgotten.
“Thank you.” He smiled politely at Severus.
Severus rolled his eyes but didn’t comment further. He crossed the room and ladled the potion into the goblet he’d brought from Remus’s office. Remus took the opportunity to rub sweat off his forehead while Severus’s back was turned.
“This is everything that was left in the cauldron. I trust you won’t drop it this time?” Severus brought the full goblet over to Remus and held it out. His eyes were intent on Remus.
“Perhaps you could set it down, and then I’ll pick it up?” Remus suggested. He didn’t want even the possibility of another mishap. Besides, it would give him the opportunity to use both hands to pick up the goblet, something that would have been difficult to make look natural if Severus were passing the goblet to him. His hands were shaky after the long trip through the hallways.
Severus raised an eyebrow, likely mocking Remus’s excessive caution, but he set the goblet on the desk. Remus picked it up carefully, using both his hands to cradle the goblet and hide the tremble of his fingers.
He raised the goblet and hesitated, trying not to breathe in too deeply. The smoke given off by the potion smelled just as bad as the potion tasted. Drinking it was never a pleasant experience, and he could already tell that it would be more difficult than usual this month.
“Like most potions, it’s only efficacious if drunk.” Severus loomed over Remus impatiently.
Remus sighed again, this time in resignation. Even though it had been eight full moons and Remus had never failed to take a dose, Severus still acted like he couldn’t be trusted to drink the blasted potion. Summoning the last of his patience, he gave Severus a polite smile and took the first sip.
Almost immediately, his stomach rebelled. Remus clamped a hand over his mouth. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took deep breaths in and out through his nose. He wasn’t going to spend the night in the Shrieking Shack. Not even if it killed him to keep the potion down.
After a few long, slow breaths, his stomach settled slightly. Cautiously, Remus took his hand away from his mouth, using it to steady his grip on the goblet again. He opened his eyes to find that Severus had taken several large steps back. Prudent of him, considering that Remus had just almost been sick on the floor.
“I fail to see the need for such dramatics. You managed to drink it easily enough last month,” Severus sneered. “If this is some kind of comment on my abilities, I assure you the potion is brewed perfectly.”
“I wasn’t –” Remus started to defend himself before deciding that he would be wasting his breath. He settled on a polite explanation instead. “I’m just not feeling well today. I caught that cold circulating among the students.”
Severus examined him closely, and Remus fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, suddenly conscious of the patches on his robes and the grey in his hair. His looks likely hadn’t been improved by his illness either. He was acutely aware that he looked quite shabby next to Severus, who cut an imposing figure in his stark black robes.
“Of course, Pepperup would interfere with the Wolfsbane Potion. Too bad.” Severus said, not sounding sorry about it at all.
“Yes, it is unfortunate,” Remus said tightly. Trust Severus to rub it in. “But I hope you can see how important this potion is to me now. I take the issue of safety during the full moon very seriously.”
“As you should,” Severus said, frowning.
Remus didn’t bother responding. If Severus didn’t already believe he was sincere, Remus wouldn’t be able to convince him. It wasn’t worth the energy to try.
Instead he returned his attention to the still mostly full goblet of Wolfsbane. His unhappy stomach protested, but he didn’t let himself think about it. Determinedly, he raised the goblet and drank.
This time, the nausea was even more intense. Waves of dizzying heat swept through him, and his stomach clenched. Eyes and mouth tightly closed, Remus battled for control. His world shrunk until all that existed was the need to keep the Wolfsbane down.
As the nausea started to dissipate, Remus became aware that Severus was speaking. He clung to the sound of the man’s voice, grateful for anything that would distract him from his misery.
Severus wasn’t speaking to him, he gradually realised, but more at him. He was listing the mistakes his OWL students had made when attempting to brew the Draught of Living Death. Some of his comments were almost amusing, if a bit harsh for Remus’s taste.
“I never managed to brew that one right,” Remus said eventually, when he was sure it was safe to open his mouth.
“I can stop, if you prefer silence,” Severus said gruffly.
“No, please. It helps to have a distraction.” Remus looked glumly at the goblet. There was still a significant amount left. Enough that he’d need two smaller sips or one large gulp to finish it.
Deciding that the sooner this ordeal was over, the better. Remus lifted the goblet and downed the rest of the Wolfsbane. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he swallowed desperately against his stomach’s attempt to reject the potion.
Eyes tightly shut again, he couldn’t see Severus, but he heard him resume his monologue. Remus listened thankfully, desperate for something to focus on. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand why adding doxy eggs too early had caused a fifth year’s potion to explode. Even the scornful sound of Severus’s voice as he described the mistake was music to Remus’s ears.
Slowly, the nausea subsided. Remus opened his eyes again and set the empty goblet on the desk with a trembling hand. Feeling hot and cold by turns, he dug in his pockets for a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his clammy brow. At least he’d managed to finish the potion.
Embarrassed now that his attention was not fully consumed by trying not to vomit, Remus glanced at Severus from the corner of his eye. He was surprised to find that Severus wasn’t looking at him, instead studying the wall as he rambled.
“Thank you for the potion,” Remus tucked his handkerchief away, still unwilling to look him in the eye. It was bad enough he was reliant on Severus for Wolfsbane. Being seen in such a state was even worse.
Severus stumbled to a halt in the middle of his recitation of the worst errors students had made over the years. He cleared his throat. “There’s no need to be sarcastic.”
“I’m not. This is still much better than transforming without the potion.” Remus hesitated, but Severus had been surprisingly decent, both about brewing the potion and in how he’d responded to Remus’s struggle to drink it. He deserved a sincere thank you. “I do truly appreciate that you brew it for me.”
“I don’t do it for you.” Severus waved away his thanks.
“Regardless.” Having said his piece, Remus struggled to his feet. He needed to return to his rooms and lock himself in before he could collapse.
Severus eyed him sceptically. “Can you make it back to your office?”
“I’ll manage.” Even though Remus wasn’t sure he could make it up the stairs, at least not all at once, he didn’t even entertain the thought of admitting it. He’d never live it down.
He shuffled through the door, wishing he only had to go the distance between his desk and his bedroom. If only that first goblet hadn’t spilled. He turned towards the stairs and was surprised to find that Severus had followed him into the hall.
“I’ll just see you to your office. It wouldn’t do for a student to find an unconscious werewolf in the hallways. Besides, I’m sure you would find some way to blame me.” Severus closed his office door firmly and gestured at Remus to lead the way.
Remus blinked. That was an awfully kind thing to do, even if it had been dressed up in nastiness. Being shepherded to his rooms by Severus would be humiliating, but Remus had to acknowledge it was probably a good idea.
Slowly, he led the way to the deserted stairs, Severus trailing behind him like a particularly menacing shadow. Determined not to need any help, Remus focused on putting one foot in front of the other, using one hand on the railing to help haul himself upward.
By the time he’d reached the second floor, he was panting outright. One step at a time, he told himself. Just focus on the next step. And then the next one. Then the next one.
He shifted his grip on the railing, but, as he stepped forward, his toe caught on the edge of the stair. Unable to react quickly enough to save himself, his knees buckled, and the stairs rushed up to meet him.
Suddenly, there was a hand under his elbow, halting his fall forward. Trembling all over with the adrenaline at having almost fallen down the stairs, Remus caught his balance.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, expecting Severus to scowl and let go of him.
He was partially right. Severus did scowl at him, but he also adjusted his grip on Remus’s arm, clearly intending to help him up the stairs.
Remus opened his mouth automatically to insist that he didn’t need help. Then he looked upwards at the seemingly endless stairs and thought better of it.
“Thank you,” he said again, aware that he was repeating himself, but unable to think of anything else to say. Severus was the last person he would ever have expected to help him. He’d have bet a significant number of Galleons on Severus mocking him instead.
Glancing sideways at Severus, he thought the other man seemed just as surprised by his actions as Remus. Deciding not to question him, Remus steeled himself and started upwards once again.
“Like I said, I don’t want to be blamed if anything happens to Dumbledore’s pet.” Severus muttered after they’d climbed a few stairs. “You will tell no one about this.”
Remus nodded agreeably, happy to let Severus have the last word and distracted by the warmth of Severus’s hand radiating through the thin fabric of his sleeve. Surely, he shouldn’t be able to feel that much warmth from a single point of contact.
He suddenly wondered how Severus’s hand would feel on his bare skin, the thought springing to life unbidden. Would it burn him? Finding out might almost be worth getting hexed.
Shaking his head to dislodge the unwelcome thought, which had surely been brought on by his fever, Remus continued to plod upward. He stared at his feet, unwilling to risk being caught looking at Severus.
By the time they reached his office, Remus was almost ready to lie down on the cold, stone floor of the hallway. The world was spinning crazily around him, and he worried that his knees would give out. He’d had to let Severus take more and more of his weight the further they went.
“Aconite,” he mumbled when they’d reached his office door, not caring what Severus thought of his chosen password.
Expecting Severus to leave, now that he’d completed the task he’d bizarrely decided to take on, Remus pulled his arm away from Severus’s supporting grip and staggered into his office. He was surprised when Severus followed him in.
Too tired to protest, Remus stumbled across the room to the hidden door to his bedchamber. He muttered his password again and the door swung open. The last few feet to the foot of his bed took all his strength, and he forgot that Severus was still there. He crawled up the bed to rest his head against a pillow and closed his eyes, still on top of the covers.
Once the room stopped spinning, he cautiously sat up to wrap the blanket around himself. The room was deserted. He squinted at the still-open door, but there didn’t seem to be anyone in the other room either. Severus must have left.
Relieved, Remus stripped off his robes and lay back down. He huddled under his blanket and waited for the moon to rise. The transformation, when it came, felt like it ripped him to shreds. But he stood up on the other side of it, whole and fully lupine.
His claws made little tears in his blanket as he tried to stretch his aching muscles. The tiny hope that wolves couldn’t catch colds faded and died. He was still wracked with fever. Curling into an unhappy ball, he shivered through the night.
Morning, when it came, did not bring relief. His bedchamber was cold, and dressing did little to warm him up. Rubbing his hands together, Remus reminded himself that his suffering would be over soon. Now that the need for Wolfsbane had passed, he could take Pepperup.
Intending to go up to the hospital wing immediately, he hurried through his office. Halfway to the door, he slowed. Something about his desk caught his eye. The stack of parchment had been moved. Had Severus used helping him as an excuse to search his office?
Angry that he was always distrusted, no matter how he proved himself, Remus deviated from the path to the door to inspect his desk. He ignored the faint thought that Severus had personal reason to distrust him in favour of railing against the unfairness of being treated poorly just for being a werewolf.
A closer look revealed that only one stack of papers had been disturbed, and his internal diatribe cut off as quickly as it had started. Severus had left a flask of potion on his desk.
Remus drew his wand and moved closer cautiously. He wasn’t going to fall prey to whatever booby trap Severus had left behind.
After inspecting the flask from all angles and failing to find any jinxes, Remus slipped his wand away. He picked up the flask and opened it, sniffing carefully. The distinctive scent of Pepperup potion wafted up to him.
Remus sniffed the potion again, astonished. Severus had left him Pepperup potion? Had he brought it with him as he escorted Remus? Or had he gone all the way back down to the dungeons for it? Either way, it spoke of genuine compassion.
Remus sank into his office chair, deep in thought. After a second, he pulled out his wand again and cast every detection spell he could think of on the Pepperup. He found nothing. No evidence of poison. No evidence of dark magic. Nothing.
Staring at the potion, Remus came to a decision. After all, he’d been drinking potions brought to him by Severus all year. There had been plenty of opportunities for Severus to poison him.
Remus lifted the flask and drained the potion. Instantly, steam poured out of his ears, and his fever broke. Feeling healthier than he had for days, he stared at the now empty flask in disbelief. To his dismay, the thought that Severus had cared enough to leave him Pepperup was filling him with a pleasant warmth.
Pathetic, he scolded himself. He knew he was lonely, but things were getting dire if one simple act of kindness was enough to turn his head. Especially when the person attracting his attention was someone he had every reason to be wary of. He couldn’t afford an infatuation with someone he couldn’t trust.
Remus shook his head at himself. He was being ridiculous. Severus Snape was not a viable romantic prospect. He wasn’t even a viable option for a friend.
The man had a melodious voice and a witty turn of phrase. And, yes, as he’d helped Remus up the stairs, Remus had appreciated how solid and warm he was. But that didn’t change the fact that he hated Remus.
Remus studied the flask again, suddenly unsure. Did Severus hate him? He’d gone out of his way to help. But, then again, he’d also gone out of his way to try to make Remus feel unwelcome at Hogwarts.
Giving up, Remus vanished the flask. He’d never be able to figure out Severus’s motivations. Last night had been an odd departure from Severus’s normal behaviour, but he was sure it would never be repeated.
Besides, he was probably misinterpreting this completely. It was much more likely to be some ploy or machination to make Remus look bad. The thought that Severus had left a potion for the sole reason of making him feel better was ludicrous.
As Remus left for breakfast, he enjoyed the way his appetite had returned and his ability to take the stairs energetically. In the Great Hall, his eyes kept sliding over to Severus, despite his resolution to pretend he was unaffected.
To Remus’s annoyance, Severus acted completely normally. He read through the Daily Prophet over toast and marmalade before leaving for class exactly on time. Well, the Great Hall was quiet at breakfast. Maybe Severus was waiting for a bigger crowd to make a snide comment.
At lunch, the Hall was full. It would be the perfect time for Severus to humiliate him. He waited for the inevitable attack, unable to eat. But Severus simply filled his plate and ate quietly. Other than a pointed comment to Minerva about the House Cup, he didn’t speak.
By dinnertime, Remus was watching Severus openly, unable to stop himself. He wished he knew what Severus’s neutral expression was hiding? Was he thinking about Remus? Or had he completely forgotten the night before?
It seemed like he didn’t even know Remus existed. He didn’t look down the table a single time. Shockingly, Remus was disappointed. He wanted to feel those dark eyes on him again, even if they were cold with disapproval.
Remus choked on a mouthful of potatoes as he realised that, despite his best intentions, he’d fallen headlong into an infatuation with Severus. He hastily reached for his water glass as he coughed. Beside him, Pomona exclaimed in concern until Hagrid leaned over and pounded on his back.
Infuriatingly, despite the minor commotion, Severus didn’t even glance his way. Ears burning, Remus took a gulp of water. He restrained himself from looking at Severus again as the table settled back into quiet conversation.
Worried that his thoughts were written across his face, Remus studied his plate. There was absolutely no chance that his feelings were reciprocated. At best, Severus mildly disliked him. At worst, he loathed him. The only good news was that Severus was unlikely to guess his feelings. He probably thought Remus detested him as well.
Over the next month, Remus couldn’t shake his new-found fascination with Severus. Despite his best efforts though, he never succeeded in drawing Severus into more conversation than a tepid greeting.
The next full moon came much too quickly for Remus’s liking, as it always did. He obediently drank the first six doses of Wolfsbane under Severus’s watchful eye, thinking all the while of Severus’s hand on his arm and Pepperup potion on his desk.
Several times, he almost brought up what had happened the night of the last full moon. But every time the words came to the tip of his tongue, his courage failed him. It was probably for the best. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to say thank you or ask what Severus had been playing at.
For his part, Severus acted as if he’d never helped Remus in the first place. His sneer was so genuine that Remus started wondering if he’d hallucinated the whole thing after all.
On the night of the full moon, Remus couldn’t take it any more. He had to know what Severus had been thinking. He was going to ask. As he paced his office, waiting for Severus to deliver the Wolfsbane, he happened to look down and caught a glimpse of the Marauder's Map.
When he woke up in the Forbidden Forest, it was too late. The news that he was a werewolf was spreading. Sirius was innocent and on the run. Severus hated him.
Remus resigned and left the grounds as quickly as he could. His last thought, as he was climbing into the carriage Dumbledore had provided, was that he’d never see Severus Snape again.