Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Remus tied his shoelaces, bending over his slightly beginning to fill out belly. It wasn’t visible yet, but he carried a new life within him. His godmother, Poppy had confirmed his suspicions a fortnight ago. He’ll have a family of his own. Remus smiled, getting up from the divan in the house of his friends, James and Lily.

Tonight will be grand. Such joyous news had to shared with the other father. Remus spotted Lily’s long curtain of red hair appearing before he saw her waddling in the room with a more noticeable pregnant belly.

“Where are the others?” He asked. Lily grinned. “Well, Peter is running late as usual. I wonder where he is nowadays, always smelling of perfume and cigarettes. James and Sirius are upstairs, affixing the newly purchased cradle for my little turnip,” she patted her stomach lovingly, then she glanced at him. “Are you telling him tonight?”

He fondly placed a palm over his abdomen. Lily and Alice didn’t want to make their pregnancies public yet (due to obvious reasons) and as such they went to see his godmother who was the very soul of caution and discretion.

However, as fate would have it Lily came by when he was being examined. Auntie swore her to secrecy until Remus was ready to reveal his big secret. Lily was happy for him, perhaps even happier than she was with her own pregnancy.

Serendipitously, no one else knew of his rare condition, but after tonight Remus decided to tell at least Severus that he’s becoming a dad in seven months. His, Alice’s and Lily’s kids will go to Hogwarts together. How fortuitous that all three of them got knocked up around roughly the same time.

“Remus? Whoo, Earth to Remus!” Lily waved in front of his eyes, tearing him from his train of thoughts back to the warm, cozy living room in Godric’s Hollow. He sheepishly chuckled. “I want to tell him. He will be delighted,” Remus stated, but he felt a twang of uncertainty at his own words. What if Severus didn’t want to become burdened with a child when their careers are just starting? It will be too much, juggling their fledgling jobs at the Ministry and Diagon Alley and raising a child. But, at least they wouldn’t go in completely blind. Remus’ parents will give them a few pointers. His mom might want to babysit since she quit her insurance job.

“Do you think he will accept it so easily? I know he loves me, but we are young and at the very start of our adult lives. I don’t know what I’ll do if he declines parentage. I – I don’t want my small one to feel unloved, rejected by his other dad. Oh, Merlin. What if he breaks up with me? I can’t do it alone –“ Remus’ fear took hold of him as he spouted things he had on his mind for the last two weeks, but he never felt comfortable voicing before tonight.

Lily’s calming hand settled on his arm and Remus stopped mid – rant. “Remus. It’s okay. I experienced the same feeling before I told James. It will be fine, trust me. You’ve been together since seventh year and I can genuinely say he loves you. He will love your small one, too.”

“I hope so, Lily. I hope so…” He muttered as he heard the patter of heavy footed Sirius storming downstairs and James’ more moderate feet descending the staircase after him.

“Are we going? Wait, where’s Pete and Sniv – Snape?” James corrected himself, looking around the quaint room. Lily shrugged. “Beats me. But they will be present at the party.”

Sirius carded through his long hair, scoffing. “I still can’t believe we’ve been invited to a Slytherin party. Reg will be there, too.”

“Actually, it’s alumni party for our year and Malfoys have the biggest property with a functional ballroom. They agreed to host and invite Gryffindors because Severus asked them,” Remus amended.

“It still stinks of deceit. Malfoy and his lot hate us. Say what you want, Slytherins will be Slytherins. My whole fucking family is a breeding ground for assholes. So many snakes congregated in one place cannot bode well,” Sirius retorted snappishly, as if he was goading Remus into disagreeing. He incredulously stared at one of his best friends for quite some time until Lily and James directed them toward the exit, thus breaking the tension.

Remus always had an inkling that the animosity between Sirius and Severus was never quite buried and that mutual distrust didn’t stop after they left school. He wished that his best friends and boyfriend of two years and couple of months would bury the hatchet, for his sake if not for theirs and just be cordial.

He didn’t ask for too much, right?

Lily hooked her arms with his and Remus gentlemanly led her out of the Fidelius’ boundary charms and onto an empty, dark street. He disapparated with her, excited to see Severus decked out in dress robes he helped pick out for him.

When they’ve arrived, the party was already in full swing. Soft piano and string quartet boosted by sound enhancing charms trickled out tunes of classic music.

James and Sirius appeared moments later. The four of them made their way to the entrance. No one stood outside, but Remus knew no uninvited guests would make it past the threshold if house masters denied them entry. He opened the double doors together with Lily and stepped inside a blindingly bright room decorated in blues, reds, greens and yellows. A huge banner hung from the ceiling, celebrating graduating seventh years from all houses from year 1978.  

The foyer was packed and there were so many people in attendance that there was no way only their alumni year was here tonight. He even saw some older Gryffindors in attendance, the Weasleys for example. And was that the current Minister of Magic talking with a few elderly witches?

Was this even a party or a big social gathering? He shot a puzzled look at Lily, then at Sirius and James who looked around as confounded as he felt. From somewhere within Peter materialized and he waved at them. Expertly as if he had to do it quite often their friend weaved through the crowd and ambled to then. “Guys, you made it!”

“Of course we made it. Where were you?”

Peter blushed. “I got a date, I will introduce you to her later.”

“Hey, nice going, Pete! Whom did you bag?” Sirius asked, patting his back. “You’ll see later.”

Well, now Remus was intrigued because since he knew the shorter man he showed no interest in anyone, female or male for that matter.

“We’ll be glad to meet your date, Pete. But I wonder where is Snape? And where the hell are the Malfoys?”

Peter’s previously jolly expression sunk at the mention of their gracious hosts. “They’re further in.”

Sirius clasped his hands around shoulders of James and Peter, grinning. “Well what are we waiting for. Let’s mingle, this is a party not a funeral wake!”

Lily pulled him along and Remus strolled past the magnitude of witches and wizards conversing in the anteroom with her. Lily wanted to get a drink, so he snagged two glasses filled with dark red liquid (he sincerely hoped it was wine) and some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stopped by to chat for a while. Remus remembered them (though their names escaped him, he really wasn’t too good with keeping track of people’s names) when a bloke with whom he sat in the back of Ancient Runes in sixth year (was he Hank or Hanz) asked him and Lily about their job prospects now that everyone was (nearly) done with apprenticeships and moving on toward a specific job.

“What of you, Lupin?” Another Ravenclaw whose name most likely started with letter E questioned, gamely taking a swig from his glass.

Remus smiled. It wasn’t really a big deal, but he got scouted as a researcher at the Department of Mysteries. He will start next month. “I’ll be working at the Ministry as a scientist of sorts. I can’t say more because I myself don’t know yet what my work will entail,” he replied conversely. Eugene (or was it Eddy) hummed. “Did you settle down yet? My wife had a crush on you when we were in fifth and sixth years. Carol, come over here for a bit! Say hi to Lupin and Evans!” He shouted.

A petite mousy haired woman with flushed cheeks separated from a nearby clique of gossiping witches and drew closer. “Oh, honey. I see you found Evans and Lupin! Lovely party, right?”

Lily laughed. “Yes, lovely party. But I’m married woman now. I’m Mrs. Potter.”

“Nice! I’m glad so many of us have settled down. What of you Lupin? Anyone caught your attention?” The woman, Carol leaned on her much more sober husband as she waited for his answer. Remus opened his mouth when a melodic voice echoed to the small corner in which Lily and Remus were cornered by the Ravenclaw couple.

“No one with intact mental faculties would willingly bind their lives to a mangy werewolf.”

Remus froze and stared at the separating crowd, making way for Severus, shadowed by other Slytherins. Suddenly music stopped playing and the loud conversations came to a halt as Severus smirked.

His ears must be playing tricks on him. Severus would never spill his secret so casually. He was his lover, the father of their baby! He wouldn’t do that to him…

Lily stayed still, but the Ravenclaws swiftly moved away from him as if lycanthropy was an airborne transmitted virus. Remus blinked.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

This wasn’t really happening. Severus, his boyfriend would never out his secret. He knew how drastically his life would change if other, judgmental people knew of his affliction.

Lily took his glass from him as he continued to stare at his lover of two years, too stunned to speak.

Severus grinned darkly. “It’s time I shattered your idyllic illusion of a perfect life, Lupin. Beasts shouldn’t have the same rights as normal, healthy people. You have been used by me and by your precious friends. I toyed with you and you fell for it like a naïve, optimistic fool. Did you know how Black and Potter spoke false information about that silly vigilante group’s plans in your presence hoping that they would expose you as a double agent, a spy planted in their midst? As it turns out they never trusted you. Potter and Black exploited your wondrous friendship and cursed nature to plant fake plans in your head. Pettigrew followed their lead, naturally. So much for the famed ‘Marauders’ legendary friendship. Everyone, I have a confession to make. At last, I can rid myself of Lupin’s horrid presence and stop pretending. After tonight, this filthy werewolf masquerading as harmless human will find his just comeuppance.” 

No, he wouldn’t. They wouldn’t. Was his drink spiked? He must be hallucinating. 

Remus pinched his thigh; it hurt. A sinking, heavy feeling settled in his gut. “Severus, you’re drunk –“ he began, hoping to salvage this situation, but Severus chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m in control of my mind and I know what I’m saying. Let me make things crystal clear for that peanut sized brain of yours, Lupin. I. Have. Never. Loved. You. I have used you. Your dear friends had used you. You are nothing to them and you’re even less to me,” Severus cruelly exclaimed, smiling at Remus’ distress.

He felt sick.

The room shrunk and all spectators were reduced to colorless blobs as he searched for his friends in the crowd. Was this a prank? Because it wasn’t funny. Then, Remus spotted them, standing idly like this catastrophic event didn’t concern them. Sirius even nonchalantly leaned on Peter. He was just watching. All of them were just watching.

Remus hopelessly gazed at them, at his best friends who became Animagi for his sake, who had been there for him when he needed them. The same best friends who didn’t even look mortified nor livid for his sake.

Remus closed his eyes.

It was true then. They weren’t disputing anything. He had been used by them. Since when did James, Sirius and Peter start taking advantage of him, doubting him and his loyalty?

James pushed the glasses up his nose, staring past him. “Lils, come here.”

Without thinking he held her wrist, stopping her from leaving his side. Surely at least Lily will not abandon him. She knows of his pregnancy. Lily will talk some sense into others and turn the situation around, paint it as a tasteless joke.

But then Lily sorrowfully looked at him and she tore her wrist from his grip, quickly shuffling past him, keeping her head down as if she was ashamed of knowing him. Lily had joined her husband and friends who stood on the sidelines.

They did nothing.

Slytherins laughed. Remus’ sharp ears picked out Severus’ tuneful, deep voice among the obnoxious cawing sounds of Bellatrix Lestrange and many others. Mulciber and Avery had cackled maliciously while the Malfoys just glared at him.

Remus balled up his fists in rage and hurt. He dug his nails in the meat of his palms to a point where his blunt fingernails drew blood.

Bellatrix sauntered in to the forefront of the big group consisting primarily of Slytherins, she stood between Lucius and Severus, with hands on her hips as she regarded Remus with a sarcastic smile. “Aww, poor little puppy! How endearing it is to see a half - breed be put in his place! How does it feel Lupin? Your masters no longer want you around. You’ve been a bad, bad doggy. Bark if you’re lonely. Woof, woof!” Bellatrix mimicked dog noises, smacking her knee, amused by her own gag.

The horrible chuckles, sniggers and giggles resumed, increasing in volume. Much to Remus’ horror and dismay, he made out perfectly voices of Peter, James and Sirius joining in the cacophonous peals of laughter.

He felt tears pricking his eyes, unknowing whether it was the fault of his hormones or his spurned feelings. How could they? Nine years of earnest friendship meant nothing to them. He meant nothing to the three boys, now men he grew up with. They were his brothers in all but blood.

Lily’s betrayal stung him on a deeper level. She knew he is expecting, he knew who knocked him up somehow while it should have been impossible. Lily knew who was the baby’s other father and she didn’t stand up for him. How is he supposed to raise a kid on his own now? As if the pedantic, pudgy Minister Minchum won’t spread news of this scandal to all corners of British wizarding world.

Remus knew he was done for. He can kiss his career at Ministry goodbye. More importantly his father was done. He’s getting fired and it will be Remus’ fault. The Lupins will face social stigma. His parents will be lucky if they won’t get persecuted for harboring a unregistered werewolf for such a long time. Remus himself won’t be so lucky. The stoic officials from Beast and Being Regulation Department will come for him now, to add his name to the Werewolf Registry. The name of Remus Lupin will join other unfortunate souls blacklisted by prejudiced, bigoted bigwigs.

Remus bore his gaze into Severus’ black, seemingly bottomless eyes as he glowered at him with expression of pure hatred. If he declared he’s with a child and he’s the father, how would he react? Would those eyes still gaze at him with such revulsion?

Would Severus reject him evermore, in spite of their little miraculous child? Was the man he grew to love truly such a cold – blooded bastard? What of the times when he kissed him with so much love and adoration.

This display of betrayal connotes what Severus really thought of him, what he still thinks of him. Remus’ corners of his mouth distorted and formed a wry half smile, half grimace.

Love really is an illusion.

Remus exerted self – control as he averted his gaze from the Slytherin, from the man who broke his heart and he strode for the main door, purposely avoiding the traitorous people he called his best friends not even ten minutes ago. Everyone backed away from him, some in fear but majority regarded Remus with disgust.

He wasn’t a monster. They were the monsters, quick to pass judgment on him as if it was their right. He’s more human than they could ever hope to be.

Traitors. Hyenas and vultures. Snake.

Remus stormed out the front door, bashing it with his shoulder in hurry to get the hell off Malfoy property. He disapparated as soon as the wards allowed it. He needed to leave Scotland, possibly even Great Britain as a whole country for quite some time.

But first, he needed to have a chat with godmother. She will help him. She was there when he was born and she stayed while his parents’ family ostracized the Lupins with a small, newly turned son. Eventually they were excluded from all family gatherings.

At least the maternal aunt and paternal uncles didn’t spill the beans to authorities, for all the good it did him now. Remus scoffed as he reappeared, shaking off light nausea of apparition. He waded further into a side alley in Whitechapel neighborhood in London.

He pounded on a faded blue door of an old, but sturdy house. Within a few stressful moments when paranoia sunk its claws in him Remus thought that perhaps even his godmother had turned on him.

Poppy appraised him, rapping his knuckles on the wooden frame. When the door snapped open, immediately he was pulled in by the motherly woman who grabbed hold of his hands. “Remus! Why are your hands bloodied? What happened?” She asked, sashaying him deeper in her house.

Remus was sat down on divan while Poppy fussily tended to his minor self – inflicted wounds. He had worse during his pre – Wolfsbane Potion phase, before Severus brewed it for him every month without a fail and for free.

What if he mixed in something? Remus never thought to question his miraculous conception nor how he had a fully developed uterus and fertile eggs despite being born as male. Did Severus know then that he was pregnant? And he still outed him publicly?

Remus shook with revulsion as Poppy cleaned up the blood and healed his trivial surface cuts. “Oh, I’m sorry Remus. Does it hurt? I’ll be more gentle,” she said in a soothing tone which did it; the dam in his heart overflowed and hot, bitter tears streamed down his face.

Poppy gathered him in her arms and Remus accepted her hug, first real gesture of kindness he felt on this rather cursed evening. Poppy held him as Remus retold her what transpired at the alumni party, albeit his voice was trembling with intermittent sobs. He told her what James and others did – or rather didn’t do and how Severus drove a knife in his back. No one spoke up for him, it almost felt like he was a circus attraction, a pet werewolf exposed for their entertainment.

“I will have a few choice words with those three stooges. Lily should have stood with you. And Severus will learn why I was called Poppy ‘The Reaper’ Pomfrey in my youth. No one messes with my favorite godson!”

Remus cracked a teary smile. “I’m your only godson,” he replied, feeling a bit better after he cried. But only a tiny bit. Crying didn’t solve Lupins problems.

He had to go and fetch his parents. They have to leave. Tonight, or next morning at latest.

Poppy smiled. “Let’s get Lyall and Hope and leave England for a while.”

Remus sniffled, nodding at her as they rose up from divan.

“Yes, Lupins are not safe in this country. We might never come back, but with how antagonistic the political climate has been for the last twenty years, I think we need to find our fortune elsewhere. There must be a place on Earth where we can begin anew, from scratch if such a need arose,” Remus pondered, loudly broadcasting his thoughts.

“There is such a place,“ Poppy declared serenely as the godmother and godson due headed for the exit.

Remus only hoped his parents weren’t already fast asleep.

Remus made a face and scrunched up his nose as stomach - turning stench of something burnt reached his nostrils. Lycanthropy had some drawbacks. Superior sense of smell was sometimes a blessing in disguise, but now it only worsened his queasiness.

Making baby steps, they treaded the trodden pathway to the Lupin property. The horrid stink got worse with every step they took and Remus opted to switch and breathe through his mouth when he tasted tangy, coppery tinge of something dead, burnt in the air. 

There weren’t many houses in the immediate area. Closest neighbors had been ten minutes away, that’s how big the plot of land was on which his father, Lyall built their quaint cottage.

Tall, majestic cedar trees lined the path. Remus remembered his walks with mother to the local grocer who sold basic necessities to his neighbors. How many times he and his mother, Hope stood under a shade thrown by one of the cedar trees his father planted (with lots of magic) and how quickly those tiny trunks have overtaken him, growing insurmountably taller  within a couple of years.

Remus’ reminiscing was cut short by a shrill, demented voice of Bellatrix Lestrange screaming. Another male voice yelled out one word that made the blood in his veins freeze.

“Morsmordre!”

A flash of light exploded high up in the sky and in its place hovered a skull with a snake. The taunting spell Death Eaters cast after they just killed someone.

Remus forced his feet to move as he sprinted up the winding path to his childhood home. Then he saw orange and red licking at the cottage’s fallen through roof and crumbling walls. Smoke and ash, greenish hue of the Dark Mark hauntingly hovering above the place he used to call home.

He had to hold his nose as he realized what he smelled earlier were bodies, burned in their own dwelling. Lyall and Hope Lupins, his parents were dead.

Crippled with guilt Remus felt himself crumble on all fours, heaving as stink of burnt flesh and wood relentlessly assaulted his senses. He puked and puked without reprieve in sight. He pounded his fists repeatedly on the ground beside the stinking pile of bile his unsettled stomach kept on expelling. He was blinded by his own tears and snot kept on dripping from his nose.

Distantly, he heard heart – breaking sobs echoing on the hillside. In the epicenter of his utter devastation he understood those terrible cries of anguish educed from his own throat.

Remus didn’t care.

His parents didn’t do anything! He got them killed. He should have come right away, not go to his godmother’s place. It was his fault they met such an unfair fate. His father wanted to take mother on a long vacation around the world, a second honeymoon.

Instead, they were hunted and persecuted by Death Eaters.

Remus blinked his tears away, wiping his face in his sleeve. Someone was cleaning his face with a flowery handkerchief. Slowly, he tilted his chin to the right and he saw his godmother. Of course it was Poppy by his side, her expression carried sadness and grief equal to the newly formed gaping hole in Remus’ chest. Her eyes looked reddened and puffy.

Just how long were they here, kneeling on cold hard ground while the blazing wall of flame excruciatingly sluggishly flickered out and the enchanted fire wore off? How long was he trying to not gag again at the mere thought of his poor parents’ tragic deaths?

Did his father fight back against the deluded cultists? Did mother try to help him? Did his father lose a duel then? He was a skilled wizard in his prime, they must have surprised him. Otherwise, he would have taken mother to a safer location.

It was his fault.

Remus trusted the wrong people and his poor parents paid price for his foolish idealistic trust.

Poppy vanished the vomit and she helped Remus back on his wobbly feet. “Remus, I – I’m sorry. Hope and Lyall are gone. We need to leave Great Britain. Lest you and I become their next victims,” Poppy whispered brokenly, holding Remus’ hand.

Remus shook his head, frantically wading forward so Poppy was forced to walk with him. “I can’t leave them here like that. I need to give them a proper burial,” Remus refuted.

“I don’t think there’s anything left of their bodies to bury. I’m sorry, Remus. That was no ordinary fire. You and I saw many a house end up like this and every time only the foundations remained.”

“No! I have to do my last duty to them as their son! Help me or get out of my way, godmother!!” Remus shrieked hysterically, tearing his hand from Poppy’s.

A harsh hand connected with his cheek and Remus stood astonished in front of what was once a veranda, thunderstruck by the sheer power exuded behind the slap. “No, you will listen to me Remus. There’s nothing that can be done for your parents. They are dead. We are not, yet. However if we linger in Scotland they will pick us off, one by one. Thanks to Severus they know I’m your only kin left alive and that I’m your godmother. Listen to me, we must go. Now.” She stressed the last word with a finality that left no room for arguments.

Remus hopelessly gaped at the floating Dark Mark as it was dispelled by Poppy with a flick of her wrist. She fired a silvery bolt – like spell at it and the ugly skull dissipated.

“Don’t worry, Remus. You and I will survive past this hardship and we’ll start a new life elsewhere. With clean slates. Somewhere where you can be free. I know people who can help us out in the beginning. We can do it,” she said firmly as he healed his bruising cheek.

Remus placed a hand over his belly. It was unbelievable how he was looking forward to telling his boyfriend – now just a traitorous ex – boyfriend about their son or daughter.

He hoped the Dark Mark Severus earned with murders of his parents and betrayal most foul will swallow him whole someday. Remus had a mind to abort his pregnancy, but he knew the risks of aborting past two months. He could die, too. But, did he want to give birth to a daughter or son which will have some (if not all) traits from the other father? Can he bear to look at that innocent face of his child without wanting some sort of twisted revenge?

Could he raise a hand against his child? His father never beat him. Lyall Lupin was a kind man who had the worst luck of crossing paths with a known werewolf murderer Fenrir Greyback and insulting him. Thus Remus was turned into a werewolf as a form of vengeance.

But did that one (costly) mistake make Lyall into a bad father? No, despite Remus’ cursed nature his father still loved him the same as before he got turned. Lyall Lupin was many things; a researcher, Ministry worker, loving parent and doting husband, but he had never showcased any abusive tendencies. Not even when Remus had to be restrained in the basement during monthly transformations. He didn't drink, never hit him or mom. He seldom yelled. He was a placid, amiable man.  

Remus decided to honor his dad and mom by adopting their kindness and patience. He may be a werewolf, but he will never abuse his child. He will shower him or her in love and fatherly affection. He will teach his kid everything his parents taught him.

His son or daughter will be his and only his. Severus lost all rights of claiming parentage tonight.

He nodded in assent, shakily taking a deep breath to ground himself. He looked at Poppy’s determined face.

Poppy came closer and embraced him.

A few moments later when they both stopped shaking, Poppy reached down to hold his hand again. Remus gripped her smaller palm tightly as they turned in place and loudly dissaparated from the porch of destroyed Lupin cottage.

Chapter Text

Remus incredulously stared at his employer and someone he grudgingly grew to respect. “Are you fucking serious?”

Lorenzo Vidal, the current Headmaster of Castelobruxo smirked, pushing a very official looking letter toward Remus, who snatched it and did a quick read of it, digesting the depths of madness he was reading. When he reached the end page he saw two names he hadn’t heard in a long, long time. After he left the ruins of his home behind Remus hadn’t thought about people he used to know as he doubted anyone from there wasted even a second on worries about him and his wellbeing.

His scowl deepened; he rumpled the letter into a ball and he pitched it outside of the open window in a fit of fury. “It’s out of my hands, Remus. Our Minister is rubbing shoulders with that sleazy British Minister. We are fostering good relations with schools in Europe –“

“I don’t care. I’m not going back. If you push this agenda further, Renzo then know that I can push back just as easily. I have other means of finding work. I can quit being a professor at this school,” he threatened the man with short gray hair as he reached downward, opening a drawer. To his displeasure, Lorenzo dispensed a crystal ball on the desk, sweeping documents aside to make room for it.

Remus hated when he dropped an elderly wisdom (Renzo was barely ten years older!) on him as if he knew everything that was going to happen in advance. He could count real Seers on his fingers, that’s how many of them were just frauds or descendants with nigh zero mystic powers to speak of.

Lorenzo was one of the few who truly had the Sight and he often used it to make his staff members see the truth hidden beneath the surface. Remus rolled his eyes at the headmaster’s antics as he dramatically moved his hands around the crystal ball, humming some choice words as he peered in its depths. His eyes were glassed over as the ‘trance’ began and he spoke in a unsettlingly harsh tone what kind of future he was seeing. “I see prodigal son’s return to his homeland, to the place where it all started. I see too much bitterness and lingering feeling of loss, betrayal cloying around you like a mist. You will reunite with old – new friend and enemy, you will meet offspring of those who betrayed you. I see a man in your future. After he makes amends for his sins you open your heart to him again. The man will do anything for you and your son. You will not return to Brazil again. After you face all these trials and tribulations head on, your family will be complete.”

Remus petulantly crossed his arms on his chest, scoffing at the mere idea of ever forgiving them, forgiving him. Lorenzo sighed as if a big burden was lifted off his chest. He rose up on his feet and toddled to a cabinet with hard alcohol. “Brandy or whiskey?” He inquired inoffensively as if his prediction didn’t turn Remus’ world upside down and buggered him sideways.

“Fuck you. How about that, Renzo?” He retorted snappishly.

“I’m afraid I must decline, Remus. I don’t want to get in way of your fateful reunion and I saw enough to know when I would be just a third wheel,” the headmaster stated noncommittally, shrugging wildly as he picked out a decanter with bright, piss colored alcohol inside and he poured them two generously filled tumblers.

The man in his late thirties grinned, waddling closer to his desk, where Remus remained seated despite wanting to leave. Not once in the ten years since he gained employment at Castelobruxo did Lorenzo (who used to be a Deputy Headmaster five years ago) predict events, situations and they didn’t come to pass exactly how he described.  

The piss colored drink sloshed over the rim and some of it landed on the papers, but neither men seemed to care about some wet documents in that moment. “Why choose me for the exchange program? Why are my son and Poppy coming with me?” He asked after a while he spent ruminating and the headmaster classily drank from his now half – empty tumbler.

“You’re a werewolf and a family man. What better way to loudly broadcast to the world our Ministries are collaborating on extending an olive branch to magical beings? It’s in the program’s name, dear Remus. It’s called ‘Beneficial Integration of Magical Beings into Wizarding World’ but our Minister Leticia Spinoza took to calling it by the acronym B.I.M.B. because she thinks it sounds funny,” Lorenzo replied.

Exasperated, Remus scoffed, knocking the untouched liquor glass over. Lorenzo vanished the mess before it could form into a sticky puddle below their feet. “Let me reiterate my question. Why choose me specifically. I’m not the only person who classifies as ‘magical being or creature’ on your payroll. Orousa is a centaur, Fibiol is a goblin, Hakan is a vampire and Sophia is a veela. Anyone of them could have been chosen to take part in Brazil Ministry’s pet project. Why me?”

“Because Spinoza, Fudge and the international team of their experts thought a werewolf would be the safest to reintegrate, politically and with least repercussions. Also Dumbledore asked for your wellbeing and he made some good points about how you’d be a perfect fit for Hogwarts. I tried to tell them you won’t take Wolfsbane from anyone, but they wouldn’t listen to me. Remus, I tried to dissuade them, but that was before I had that vision. You cannot escape from your past. You have to go back. There comes a time when even a wolf faces his fears. No, that wasn’t the correct wording of that idiom, sorry about that. Of course, you can resign and we will reassign someone else, but think about it a little more Remus. Werewolves in Brazil don’t necessarily live in poverty and none are treated like second class citizens. Minister Spinoza and her predecessor have done this. You and other lycanthropes in this country can gain employment anywhere as long you’ve got qualifications for the job. You can live a normal life and there has been carved out untouched space of wilderness especially for werewolves to commune and transform when that time of month comes. When your project is deemed a success, it just might change situation for the better not just for lycanthropes living in Great Britain. It doesn’t have to stop with them. You can prove to naysayers that you and your fellow lycanthropes are just people trying to live in peace.”

Remus gritted his teeth. Between the prophecy and wholly reasonable motive he had a hard time staying level - headed. On one hand he didn’t want to see him or anyone from his old life. If Lorenzo’s prediction can be trusted it means that his ex is working at Hogwarts as a professor.

He was even going to live in the same castle as the man who betrayed his heart several times over! Does Lorenzo know what a morally boggling, sordid prophecy he made? Moreover, he was chosen for this collaborative project. Should he feel honored or offended? “You really dropped this bombshell on me a week before school resumes. What position pray tell am I assuming? What of Raphael’s schoolwork and friends he made here? Do you think Poppy will like it? I know my godmother. You and Spinoza should find somewhere safe to hide,” he remarked callously.

In that moment while Lorenzo was thinking what to say someone brashly burst in the headmaster’s office. Both of them took in sight of grinning scrawny, gangly kid with long hair he wore in a ponytail (Brazilian rainforest was extremely humid for majority of the year) and loose, comfortable clothes. Castelobruxo had no need for uniforms as everyone wore what they wanted. The other person turned out to be Poppy, sporting a scowl.

Remus looked from his son and godmother to the smiling man. “Rafe! Poppy. Good, the whole Lupin family is here. Persuade him to go back to Britain for me. It’s for his own good. He is stagnating, lost and lonely,” Lorenzo commented with quite a cordial tone, as if he wasn’t present in the room.

He regarded his family for a split second bemusedly. It seemed like they had no idea of this arrangement. The look in Poppy’s eyes was vicious and Remus felt inept at handling his livid godmother.

She and Remus weren’t thrilled when other people made important decisions without their input. He was being used again, this time for the ‘greater good’ of all werewolves. What a load of bullshit, Remus thought, now profoundly frustrated.

The gangly teen ambled close to his scowling father. Poppy also approached, but she surprised everyone when she pulled her wand out and pointed it at Lorenzo. “We heard everything. Why is Dumbledore suddenly interested in Remus again after more than a decade of no contact? What does he want?”

“Easy, Poppy. I’m on your side. I can only tell you what he said to me. Allegedly someone Remus knew has escaped from Azkaban, that funnily named prison in the middle of North Sea. The convicted murderer might be ‘coming to finish the job’ as Dumbledore implied when we spoke last time, which was two weeks ago. Here, if you don’t believe me, see it for yourselves,” he pointed out a copy of The Daily Prophet sitting on a shelf among other magazines from overseas.

Poppy summoned the copy of newspaper in her hand. On the front page was a mugshot of a man. Remus’ eyes zeroed on the face of one of the traitors. Azkaban was not kind to him and Remus felt satisfaction at seeing him dressed in jailbird getup.

Sirius fucking Black was a murderous psychopath. Finally, the flesh reflected the madness within.

He and Poppy stopped subscribing to Daily Prophet and other British newspapers and magazines in fear Death Eaters could track them down via owl deliveries from abroad. Since their move here to the Amazonian rainforest in Brazil they stopped caring about what happened over there. In retrospective, if they were still subscribed he wouldn’t be so mystified by what he read. After he and Poppy fled England, Potters died on Halloween in 1980 and Black killed Pettigrew and twelve muggles so brutally the public outcry doomed him to imprisonment. No amount of money could save him from jail for committing gruesome murders in the middle of a muggle street.

Remus snickered.

So, the Marauders cannibalized one another after he was forced to leave. It was poetic justice. Turning on each other was what they did best after all.

“Dad, is he one of those pigs you told me about?” The gangly teen asked curiously stealing a peek at the almost two months old issue of Daily Prophet.

Remus guffawed, taking the newspaper from Poppy’s grasp as he rolled it up and tossed it out the window, just like he did with the letter. Lorenzo deeply sighed and whined. “Headmaster’s backyard is not a trash dump, Remus…”

“Shut up, Renzo. What does Black’s escape have to do with me?”

Lorenzo eyed the three Lupins, as if he was weighing cons and pros in his head before he made a decision. “Between four eyes, strictly between Headmasters Dumbledore told me he’s worried Black might infiltrate the school grounds to finish what his master, that fallen dark wizard with a humorous name Valumart – no Voldemort! Yes, that was the name, as I was saying he thinks he might be coming to do what his dark lord couldn’t. Ahem, yes. Dumbledore is sure that he’s going to try and murder a student. Then perhaps he won’t stop until he killed any possible eyewitnesses. I cannot say much about Sirius Black’s motives, but if he killed thirteen people and twelve of them were just innocent civilians going on about their lives then we should be worried. Dumbledore also expressed a worry that the escaped prisoner might be coming after you, Remus.”

If Black thought he would make things easy for him then he was sorely mistaken. It was his turn to suffer and crumble to pieces. He didn’t care about the student, even if he had an inkling of who it could be. Ensuring continued safety of Lily’s spawn within Hogwarts wasn’t his problem nor duty. He’ll gladly let the stuffy chief of his old House deal with that headache. “I’ll take the job,” Remus announced stiffly. Lorenzo looked pleased, the teenager intrigued and Poppy perturbed by his decision.

“Remus, we had agreed –“ Poppy began protesting, but Remus curtly cut her off, shaking his head matter-of-factly. “Renzo’s right. I’ve done enough running. I ran as far as I could and the past still haunts me. I am accepting the idea of exchange project, but let me make something clear. My family and I aren’t Spinoza’s obsequious lackeys. I am not fond of being used as publicity stunt for that cooperative project between Ministries. We won’t be a charity case to be admired by general public and I won’t change who I am. I am not going back because I give a knut about welfare of others with my curse. I won’t be a guard dog for that supercilious wonder boy. Whether he lives or dies depends on vigilance of others, not mine. I won’t be held responsible for the fate of an orphan. Let Black kill him for all I care. But if the deranged bastard comes after me or my family I will gladly end his miserable life. He’ll learn I’m not the same Remus Lupin he and his buddies abandoned.” Remus decided to omit thinking about the other traitor still alive, the very same man who will see Raphael and put two and two together, that is if he didn’t know about his existence beforehand. Before he outed him.

“Oooh, that’s cool, dad! Am I going to be Sorted? Like you were?” Rafe tugged at his father’s sleeve, bouncing on the balls of his feet in exhilaration.

Remus gazed at his son. “I suppose you will. I’ve never heard of anyone transferring in before. Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“Remus. I see you’ve made your decision. Very well then. Rafe and I shall follow you. I hope there will be space for me somewhere in the hospital wing?” She turned to face Lorenzo who grinned. “Dumbledore assured me you’ll resume your duties as main medi witch in the infirmary. Apparently the previous Madam medi witch, her names escapes me now has… em, passed on to the other side due to old age. Truly sad. Rafe will be Sorted and he’ll stay with his new dorm mates in one of the four hidden hidey holes. Segregation. Such backwards thinking… anyway, where was I? Yes, young Rafe will stay with other boys his age and you, Remus will move in to the apartment reserved for the Defense Against Dark Arts professor. I heard they are quite roomy. All three of you will have new places to call your home. Regarding your stance on the boy, Trotter – er, no. Wrong again. Potter? Yes, Harry Potter. Regarding Harry Potter I know I cannot influence you in any shape or form, but think of it this way. The poor boy hunted by a wanted criminal at large could have easily been your son,” Lorenzo muttered softly and Remus frowned at him until the headmaster balked and retreated to stand behind his desk.

“What of your man?” He raised a brow suggestively and Remus cracked his knuckles menacingly as the Seer and (currently still) his employer fretfully giggled upon seeing Remus’ heated expression.

Rafe snickered. “The deadbeat father? The man dad and Auntie told me I resemble down to the smallest details except my eyes and temperament. Why are you mentioning him? Will he be my new teacher? What subject is he teaching?”

“Raphael Lyall Lupin, this is no time for questions. Take a look at your dad. He is stressed out enough as it is. How about you and I go pack our things. I imagine we’ll be leaving soon. You might want to bid goodbyes to your friends,” Poppy interjected, salvaging the overwrought mood in the headmaster’s office.

Dutifully, the teen nodded. He hugged Remus shortly and he and Poppy darted out of the office, fast like the wind that swept through the hallway as faint breeze tickled Remus’ face.

After they were left alone Remus glared at Lorenzo rather crossly. “He and I will never reconcile. He will never be mine and I will never be his,” Remus hissed out the words, loath to tarnish his mind with inane thoughts about the ‘good old times’ when he bought into the lie of love.

The only love that’s real and true is that of a parent. Poppy became his family and six months after they ran she had changed her name formally and legally to Poppy Pomfrey – Lupin and she had adopted Remus as her son. Which is why he will always trust her and his perceptive, witty and street – smart son over anyone else.

Faint smile played at the crafty headmaster’s lips. “You know my prophecies are always accurate, Remus. And I thought you said you were done running away?”

Remus temperamentally growled, showcasing his other side to the other wizard, who stayed still and seemingly unaffected when Remus’ eyes briefly flashed with golden amber. After a while the glow subsided and Remus calmed down. He sourly sauntered to the door and he walked out of Lorenzo’s office before he took his head off and was accused of first degree manslaughter.

He had a suitcase to pack. He had to let know his neighbors that Lupins are going abroad and they won’t be back for a while. Most of all Remus needed to find a quiet corner somewhere. In contrast with Hogwarts students and staff alike had access to school grounds even during summer break, so if he wanted some peace and quiet, he would have to wander deeper into the forest. Castelobruxo was never empty.

Perhaps he should take a dip. He needed to cool his head and apply cold rationalization to next steps he’ll need to take after he comes back to British soil. Then he, Poppy and his son will have a chat about their relocation and new lives that were forced on their family.

Remus disapparated right outside the front gate and he appeared at the stony and muddy ground, surrounded by exotic greenery. He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to a tank top, but he kept his pants on because one could never be sure they were truly alone in the deepest reaches of an ancient, magical forest brimming with all kinds of wildlife and flora.

He slipped in the pleasantly tepid waters and swam.

As if today wasn’t already nerve-racking enough, they got delayed at the International Portkey center in São Paulo because Minister Spinoza was supposed to come and see them off, but she was running late.

Remus tetchily glowered at the young clerk handling their case. Poppy had already sent the scatter – brained Minister of Magic a very patronizing letter (god bless Poppy’s heart) about inconveniencing them when they had places to be at and they were leaving at behest of her precious Ministry dealings. A reply came through fifteen minutes later that she’s not going to make it in time as she was stuck in a meeting with other Ministers around the globe. She wished them godspeed and good luck.

She could shove her wishes somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine, Remus thought privately. The jittery clerk had finally prepared the Portkey for them after she learned the Minister won't be coming.

Rafe muffled his laughter as a dog –eared old lunar calendar was bathed in a bright purple light. Remus however wasn’t amused. He pierced the jumpy young woman with his stern gaze. “Do you think you’re funny? A lunar calendar?” Remus intoned snappily. Trust Ministry workers to take a dig at him somehow.

“I – I’m sorry, sir! I was given this item to make into your Portkey by a superior. I’m only doing my job!” She peeped, practically running away in fear she’ll get hexed.

Remus looked around the spacious room filled with travelers. He spotted a shifty looking guy in his fifties smirking at him and his family. Not even his beard could disguise that satisfied jeer.

Bigotry and hatred were universal, unchanging truths of the world. Remus made one tiny step forward, but he was stopped by Poppy and his son. “Forget about him. We have bigger fish to fry,” Poppy whispered, although she glowered at the bearded cretin.

“Auntie’s right, dad. We’re already going to arrive fashionably late and I want to get Sorted tonight. Please, let it be. Just this once. For me?”

He looked at his son, with his big doe eyes. Remus turned his back on the asshole Portkey distributor, then he patted Rafe’s raven hair. “For you, I am not going to walk over and break that prejudiced idiot’s nose. Let’s get going,” he said softly.

Rafe and Poppy checked their luggage (they each brought only one backpack as they figured they would have to go clothes shopping for the charming British weather) and together the three Lupins had clustered around the yellowed calendar. They each held a hand out, only centimeters away from touching their Portkey. “On three we touch it at the same time. One. Two. Three!”

They touched it and immediately Remus felt the uncomfortable tugging at his navel. He kept his eyes open, but Poppy and Rafe had closed theirs as they traveled almost as fast as speed of light and Remus made out some blurred backgrounds with cities and roads, wilds and small villages. At last the awful tugging ended and Remus glanced around with contempt at the twisting road seemingly in the middle of nowhere. But Remus and Poppy had of course recognized the area. They’re on the road connecting Hogsmeade with Hogwarts. Not too close, but not too far either.

The Portkey was shortly after tossed aside and incinerated wandlessly with blue fire, courtesy of frowning Poppy.

Remus reached into his knapsack and he pulled out a spare cloak, which he wrapped around Rafe’s shoulders. His son would need some time to adjust to the new climate.

He’s gotten so used to Brazil’s humidity that the stark difference in weather conditions had Remus feel wistful. In particular he wasn’t looking forward to the freezing temperatures inside the ancient castle.

The Lupins steadily began walking. Fortunately, Remus could still see the setting sun in the distance, so they weren’t too late. Then, he saw something else, something black. A mass of black descending on them. Closer and closer.

Dementors.

Remus growled as he instructed his son to hide behind him. Rafe did so, albeit he looked scared. Poppy and Remus brandished their wands and Remus thought of the first time he saw Rafe’s wrinkly, newborn face, how happy he felt on the day his boy was born. “Expecto Patronum!” They yelled out in unison and two silvery shades jumped out from tips of their wands, tackling the approaching horde of dementors in midair.

Against two Patronuses the prison wardens stood no chance and they retreated quickly. Remus lowered his wand, seething with rage.

Lorenzo could have warned them. Hell, Spinoza could have mentioned Hogwarts was guarded by happiness sapping monsters!

“Dad? Are those things gone?” Rafe’s trembling voice startled him and Poppy out of righteous indignation and they whirled around, embracing him. “Are you alright?” Poppy questioned, petting his head.

Rafe looked a bit pale, but luckily dementors didn’t get too close. Remus reached into his left pocket on his patched up, faded traveling robes. He broke off a big piece of dark chocolate and Rafe took it, taking a big bite out of it. He flashed a grateful smile at them. “Thanks. I’m fine, you chased those evil beings off, for now. Will they be back?”

Poppy sighed. “Yes, as you know dementors leech all happy thoughts and memories from their victims. We should hurry,” she commented, peeking at the orange – red sky riddled with wispy shadowy creatures.

The displeased trio hurried along the road, shifting from leisurely walking pace to brisk jogging.

As soon as he can he’s chewing out the old headmaster and he’s sending five Howlers each to both Lorenzo and Spinoza. How dare they skip over mentioning such an important detail?! What if he and Poppy failed to produce strong Patronuses in time?

Before Black could get to them the dementors would do him and his family in if he and godmother acted a couple of seconds later.

The more they drew closer the more Remus was overcome with nostalgia. Hogwarts was built to last, it sat like a rare peal in the middle of Black Lake (a rather ironic name, considering) and when they reached the docks with a small army of boats they halted to catch their breath. On the sandy shore was conveniently parked a carriage. Remus looked at the thestrals, which in turn stared at him, Poppy and Rafe plaintively.

Intelligent and misunderstood creatures, thestrals. “Dad, Auntie. Is that carriage drawn by those funky invisible black horses? You've told me second years and above use those carriages as means of transport on school grounds. So I guess that means we're getting in. I don’t think I want to see thestrals. Ever.” Rafe exclaimed, advancing to the carriage. Remus watched the sky as he and Poppy slipped inside the carriage and the small wicket door securely locked behind them automatically. He sat alone while Poppy and Rafe sat on opposite site.

He had his wand in a tight grip, hidden and obscured out of Rafe’s line of vision. He needn’t be more anxious. If things went south, he and Poppy will make those ugly wardens leave, one way or another.

With some providence, their ride in the carriage progressed to its bumpy end without any further incidents on the way. Noisily, the carriage landed in the courtyard. Remus disembarked first, helping his son and Poppy get off onto solid ground.

“So this is Hogwarts?” Rafe looked around, taking in the new sights. “This decrepit fortress claims to be a wizarding school for young wizards and witches? Wow, British parents have such low standards…” Rafe remarked, unimpressed by the building so far. Remus didn’t fault him. If he went to Castelobruxo and then came here to this shithole, he would most likely see it the same way.

“Are you ready?” He inquired, assessing his family members’ faces. Poppy wore a neutral poker face and Rafe excitedly bound to his side.

Poppy kept glancing around the courtyard. No one was coming and no dementors were in sight.

“Ready. I want to see the state of school’s apothecary stores as soon as I can.”

“Can we get going? It’s cold outside,” Rafe made an observation, slightly shivering.

Remus marched through the courtyard and he pushed the massive double doors. Creaking, they gave way and the three Lupins slithered inside the even colder antechamber.

Morosely, he examined the walls he once walked. There was no going back now.

The massive door closed and magically locked behind them.

With Rafe and Poppy on either side, Remus stalked the long hallway as his legs routinely defaulted to taking a shortcut. Remus cursed what he thought were repressed memories of his foolish youth as they had arrived.

Rafe and Poppy nodded at him. Using a bit more strength that was necessary Remus shoved at the big door which lead into jam-packed Great Hall. Traditionally, the Four House tables were lined up next to one another and at the far end in the middle was the Head Table where the current headmaster and all staff sat.

Everyone turned to stare at them. Remus refused to take a look and confirm whether he was among the teaching staff, but Poppy whispered to him that he had no such luck and that his ex was dubiously gawking at him and Raphael, ostensibly thunderstruck with the Lupin family’s late, dramatic appearance.

His eyes appraised the strict, tall woman holding a tatty and old hat. Looks like they narrowly made it to the Sorting Ceremony. Dumbledore’s eyes behind his glasses twinkled. He smiled with that grandfatherly fakeness and Remus glared at the old man.

McGonagall bore her gaze into the latecomers. She cleared her throat as murmurs rebound in the Great Hall. Ignoring the insistent wave of hushed whispers she loudly called Rafe forward to her. “Raphael Lupin!”

Rafe took off his knapsack and gave it to Remus who supportively clutched his hand and offered him a smile. Then Rafe confidently strode through the small space serving as walkway between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

Remus and Poppy watched intently as he gingerly sat on the tottering three legged stool. McGonagall was placing the Sorting Hat on top of his head. “HUFFLEPUFF!!” The old-fashioned Hat announced. It barely touched him. Remus and Poppy clapped, both of them had more or less expected this outcome.

At least he’s not in that snake pit or worse, the lion den, Remus thought.

The Hufflepuff House woke up from stupor and clapped politely. Rafe slid off the stool and waltzed up to the table draped in yellow hues. He plopped down on bench next to some boys who looked to be his age. Dorm mates, maybe?

Remus decided scope them out in hopes of finding out whether their parents were there during that alumni party.

Dumbledore stood up to make his traditional welcoming speech. “Welcome!” He began and light from candles was reflecting on his white beard. “Welcome to another school year at Hogwarts! I have a few announcements to make regarding some delicate matters. I think it’s for the best if I tell you now before you’re all numbed by the excellent feast house elves cooked up…” Dumbledore coughed and resumed: “As you all may know as you have experienced inspection of Hogwarts Express, we now have a few dementors from Azkaban strategically placed around campus. They’ve been assigned to their temporary posts by Ministry of Magic.”

He paused and Remus glared at the headmaster. “They stand around every exit and while they’re here I urge all of you to not give them a chance to assault you or your friends. No one is to leave school premises without permission. Dementors cannot be fooled by any tricks, disguises or invisibility cloaks. Which is why I’m asking the Head Boy and Head Girl to take heed of your fellow students and friends welfare.”

At Gryffindor table a young man with red hair and glasses pompously stuck out his chest. He must be Arthur and Molly’s son. He skipped over another three redheads as his eyes momentarily rested on familiar mop of messy black hair and glasses. Remus grinded his teeth. This boy must be the traitor’s son, the orphaned wonder baby then was now a teenager.

“Now we shall shift toward merrier topics. I’m glad to announce that this year we’re welcoming two new teachers. The first is professor R. J. Lupin who has graciously agreed to transfer from Castelobruxo to Hogwarts. He’s come with his family. Poppy Pomfrey will take over –“

Poppy cut him off. “That’s Madam Pomfrey – Lupin.”

Dumbledore smiled wider, unperturbed. “Right, I wouldn’t want to offend our new medi witch! Madam Pomfrey – Lupin will take over hospital wing and she’ll take care of any ailing students or staff who might be feeling a bit blue. Professor Lupin will of course assume the post of Defense Against Dark Arts teacher and young Mr. Lupin will start his school career here at Hogwarts as third year. He’ll live with other Huffflepuffs in their common room.”

Barely anyone clapped at the announcement. Both he and Poppy made for a pair of menacing, scowling strangers. Rafe applauded loudly from his place at the Hufflepuff table, cheering.

Remus recalled Lorenzo’s stupid prophecy, so he glanced over the heads of everyone and he peered directly into the eyes of his ex – lover. He looked older, his hair was longer than he remembered. He still wore black.

As if he’s buying Lorenzo’s balderdash bogus story. Remus fixedly glowered at him until his pasty complexion got even whiter and he looked a tad green in face. He hoped his expression conveyed all of the hatred that was bottled up in his heart, accumulated over the years of forced exile.

Good, let him taste the same unrest and misery. Let him sink into despair as he realizes who Raphael is. Why he bears a striking resemblance, how the year lines up perfectly. How he did that, how he missed out on Rafe’s childhood. How because of his need for approval he destroyed Remus’ life and now he’s come back to return the favor by sevenfold.

Dumbledore rambled on, uncaring or ignorant of the plight shown on the face of one of the professors seated just a few seats to the right. “Regarding the second new teacher, I regret to announce that professor Kettleburn had resigned to enjoy his retirement with his remaining limbs. However, I’m pleased to announce that his place was filled by Rubeus Hagrid, who agreed to take over duties of teaching Care of Magical Creatures. He will also uphold his duties as Hogwarts gamekeeper. Now then, Madam and professor, please take your seats so we can officially open the welcoming banquet –“

“I think not. We have a few announcements of our own to make, headmaster,” Remus spat out the title as he and Poppy made their way to the Hufflepuff table. They strode directly to Rafe and Remus handed him back his knapsack since he’ll be needing it soon.

Remus austerely glanced at the sea of young faces stretching before him. It was very likely Dumbledore and Fudge don’t plan on telling school populace about why the Lupin family is really here. Too bad for them and their petty politics. He’s not going to play along. Remus was done apologizing for what he is to dogmatists. Besides, some of the seventh and sixth years might know already.

He clasped his hands beyond his back. “I’m a werewolf. If you’ve any complaints about my presence here, I suggest you take it up with the illustrious headmaster and Minister Fudge. I came here because I was recommended by Castelobruxo’s headmaster Vidal and Brazilian Minister of Magic Spinoza. I came here to help promote goodwill between the two schools.”

Dumbledore loudly sighed and Remus felt surge of gratification when he glanced behind and saw the old man wearing a disappointed expression.

Remus sneered at him, abruptly turning more to the right. He pointed with baleful abhorrence at the blanching man who gaped at him mutely like a fish on land. “Furthermore, Madam Pomfrey – Lupin and I will not be taking our meals in the Great Hall. We refuse to sit down at the same table with a traitor.” Remus declared as shocked gasps erupted from all directions.

He spun around and he and Poppy embraced Rafe one last time. Covered by loud clamoring gossip-mongers, Remus and his godmother vigorously made their way to the big door and left.

They reached the first staircase after a minute of quiet walking and Poppy told him she’s going ahead to see her new workplace. Remus poignantly watched as her silhouette got smaller and smaller until she completely vanished from his keen eyesight.

He climbed the first two floors, cursing the architect for designing so many bloody staircases when suddenly someone called out his name. The voice was deep and melodious, just like he remembered.

He halted and glanced backwards.

Severus Snape stood on the same long staircase with him, looking indecisive and afraid.

Chapter Text

Severus thought this would be another year wasted on trying to impart his knowledge on idiotic children and slightly bigger, but likewise rash hormonal teens. He wondered what bumbling cretin had accepted DADA post this time. Surely, Dumbledore scraped the bottom of barrel when he employed that buffoon Lockhart as the Defense instructor.

He had the displeasure of knowing him. He was four years below his year. A toadying Ravenclaw beneath his notice.

Impatiently he tapped his foot underneath the Staff table throughout the whole elongated ordeal that was The Sorting Ceremony. As Minerva read through her list of names, Severus blankly stared ahead, mentally he was elsewhere.

The double doors were aggressively drawn open. Filius’ small gasp and Pomona’s equally shocked wheeze made him slip out of his thoughts. Curious what got other teachers so perturbed he casually trained his eyes on the person who he assumed took over after Lockhart’s questionable teaching methods.

Severus’ breath hitched. It was him, his one and only boyfriend whom he hurt. He thought he was fine living with guilt, he bore it as penance. But seeing the unsmiling face of his former love made immeasurable remorse multiply, spreading through his nerves and blood like a wildfire, for Severus knew it was him who wiped that radiant smile off his ex’s face.

Remus stood by the double doors. His so much longer hair was wilder than he remembered and his tawny hair could put even Lucius to shame, it perfectly framed his clean shaved face. He was tanned now; the contrast between his memory of Remus back then and how he looked currently was uncanny. He just stared at him, drinking in sight of Remus’ altered, but still charmingly striking face.

And then, he noticed he wasn’t alone. The medi witch from his school days was standing firmly by Remus’ side, her expression didn’t betray much other than aloofness. She had barely changed, although her hair was gray. Of course she’d come with him, they were what remained of the broken family he indirectly helped destroy.

With trepidation his gaze glided to the third person and Severus gripped the edge of table hard. It felt like he got dumped into Black Lake in the middle of January. Ice enveloped his insides and goosebumps broke out like a bad rash on his skin. The child that came in with Remus and Pomfrey had his face, he looked exactly like he did when he was aged thirteen to fourteen. The same cheekbones, same hooked nose, medium long raven hair and thin lips. Even from such a great distance Severus made out the sparkling, chipper eyes unlike his nearly black ones. The boy would be a perfect carbon copy of his younger self if it weren’t for those eyes. Bright and lighter shade of brown; Remus’ eyes, Severus realized in horror.

He was spellbound on the teen’s face. The boy couldn’t be older than Draco. Minerva cleared her throat and she called forth the last student to be Sorted this evening. “Raphael Lupin!”

No, it cannot be. This boy can’t be who he thinks he is, but their impeccable resemblance implies otherwise. Severus observed how the boy assertively bound forward, ambling with confidence unlike most young people had at that age. The boy, Raphael sat down on the rickety stool and Minerva lowered the old hat toward the boy’s black hair. The Sorting Hat barely made contact and it already screamed ‘Hufflepuff’ obnoxiously loud.

Severus looked on with rising dread how the boy headed to sit with other Hufflepuff students. The boy sat with Finch – Fletchey and Macmillan, who by the looks of it were just as interested as everyone assembled, questioning what was up with the uncanny Snapish likeness. Somewhere in the back of his still dumbfounded state of mind he noted the perplexed looks he was getting from staff members and students.

Why had no one deigned to warn him? The headmaster or at least Deputy Headmistress could have nonchalantly mentioned this fact to him before this school year started. Severus didn’t think he’d have chance to see Remus again and now they would be colleagues, equals. On top of that, the boy – Raphael had to be his son. His and Remus’ child, which means when he forced him to leave Great Britain he was already expecting.

The smell of food wafting toward his nostrils made him nauseous and he regretted sipping on cider during the Sorting. It burned in his stomach like acid.

If he knew Remus was pregnant with his child, he would have made some last minute change to his plans. Severus was still coming to terms that he had a son who grew up hating him. Was it too late to change that? Could he win back Remus and get to know their son? Or was it already too late; the cycle of hate had passed on from him to the child? How did Remus even conceive in the first place… unless the Wolfsbane Potion, at that time still in very early experimenting stage had undocumented side effects for male gay werewolves who enjoyed being taken by a male lover. Belby had a werewolf partner of his own, but his was a female. How could Severus have predicted this outcome?

The feeling of uncomfortable nausea deepened as he thought how he could salvage this situation. In the meantime Dumbledore began one of his ornery speeches and Severus tuned out the old man’s voice, focusing on his own jumbled mess of thoughts. He took a deep breath as he counted up to fifty four when Remus’ lyric baritone voice had an immediate effect of getting his full, undivided attention.

Severus watched him disrespect the old man with certain degree of glee and Dumbledore noncommittally gestured that he could say his piece, whatever it was.

Remus clasped his hands beyond his back. “I’m a werewolf. If you’ve any complaints about my presence here, I suggest you take it up with the illustrious headmaster and Minister Fudge. I came here because I was recommended by Castelobruxo’s headmaster Vidal and Brazilian Minister of Magic Spinoza. I came here to help promote goodwill between the two schools.”

Dumbledore loudly sighed, startling Minerva who appeared to be shocked by the admission Remus made. Severus didn’t know what to make of it. Why would he willingly out himself like that? In the past Remus went to great lengths to keep his curse a secret from others.

Now, he divulged his dark secret to a full, packed room filled with even the youngest students who had no way of knowing who he was. The scandal was talked about only for a month before the irritating tongue wagging gossip – mill moved on to next hot topic.

Remus sneered at headmaster and then he unexpectedly turned to glare directly at him. Paired up with an accusing finger pointed right at him, Severus blanched when Remus spoke his piece with venom infused into his tone. It made the acidic feeling in his abdomen hurt more, churning painfully. Salazar have mercy, he really ballsed up everything. “Furthermore, Madam Pomfrey – Lupin and I will not be taking our meals in the Great Hall. We refuse to sit down at the same table with a traitor.” Remus affirmed, his gaze transported Severus into the past for a brief moment.

He glared at him the same way Tobias Snape glared at his mother Eileen after he learned she’s a witch. Severus woodenly stared at his former boyfriend. The reproachful animosity leaching from Remus was expected; they didn’t part on best terms and yet Severus naively thought Remus would understand and forgive him. He’d move on and live somewhere far from the epicenter of turmoil, far removed from the conflict and being subjected to the likes of Potter and Black who had used him for their own agenda. In his fantasy, Remus would settle down with someone nicer who would treat him right in his stead; someone who’d help him plug up the hole Severus made that fateful night.

Why is it every time he makes a conscious effort to do better the wily bitch known as fate throws obstacles right in his path?

It was obvious to everyone that Remus wanted nothing to do with him and he deserved it. All of it. He will bear the brunt of Remus’ hostility, but he’s not capitulating just yet. Severus reasoned with himself that he can finally come out with the truth; after all it’s been more than a decade he spent feeling like the worst scum under the sun.

Remus deserves to know his reasons and Severus won’t stop feeling sorry for what he did until the end of his days.

The murmurs and whispers died down and Severus studied Remus’ sharp profile as he and Pomfrey hugged the third Lupin. The two of them briskly stepped outside, leaving Great Hall and bewildered Severus with rabitting heart behind.

Realizing it was now or never to come clean with everything, Severus stood up. He threw a heated glare Dumbledore and Minerva’s way, who both graciously pretended they went suddenly blind. He wasn’t even hungry anymore as appetite drained from him like waning crescent moon. Severus wordlessly left the front Staff table and as he walked, he made eye contact with the unsettling young teenager, who had his face and Remus’ lively eyes.

The kid unnervingly cocked his head, analyzing him as Severus stiffly nodded at him and the kid, his kid just continued to stare as he passed him and his fellow Hufflepuffs. Severus increased his walking pace, thinking he’ll find an opportunity to have an undisturbed talk with Raphael sometime next week after classes for that day are finished.

For now, he had to catch up with Remus. Severus rushed out, looking around the interconnecting stairs. He found him two staircases ahead, his tawny hair shining like a beacon in the semi darkness. Fortunately, his godmother wasn’t with him. While it would certainly save him time if he told both elder Lupins his side of events of that night, he didn’t want to risk being flung over the rail like a ragdoll by the enraged medi witch.

Severus hurriedly ambled to the base of staircase. Remus had a head start, but he could still catch up to him. He half ran, half walked up the stairs, taking them by two’s, striding with a single – minded goal of catching up to his ex.

Just one more extremely long flight of steps separated them and Severus ignored the churning feeling in his gut and slightly elevated heart rate. The name was on the tip of his tongue and Severus croaked the name somewhat hoarsely. Maybe it had something to do with anxiety formed ball stuck in his throat, maybe it was wistfulness that got his tongue. Still, he was so close he could make out Remus’ figure.

Swallowing thickly, Severus took a deep breath and he called out to him. “Remus! Wait. I need a word with you!”

To his astonishment, Remus halted, irately he turned around and pierced him through with a cold, detached stare. “It’s ‘Remus’ again, I see. Did you forget what you called me last time, Snape?”

He winced as if Remus struck him. It was true he said some rather abominable things to him, but he had to make their breakup look believable. Severus lied about his feelings, but everything else was the truth. His friends were louts who gaslit Remus into believing they liked to have him around as their best friend. They thought he was a perfect recruit candidate for the other side because of lycanthropy. Pettigrew and Potter had already paid dearly for doubting the wrong person of being a double spy, it was only a shame his childhood friend had to die with Potter senior.

Severus crossed the remaining distance and now he stood just one step below his old flame who had adapted a scowl. Remus took one step backwards, lengthening the distance somewhat again. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all night.”

“I want to tell you the truth. I know you might not believe me, but I’m not lying. When I said those ugly things, I didn’t mean them. Except Black, Pettigrew and Potter being tools and scumbags, that wasn’t a lie. I can make an oath and swear upon my magic if that will convince you. I did that to save you, Remus. It had to be done; Voldemort was coming for Order members and you were high on his list of torture subjects. I couldn’t let that happen to you. It’s a bit more complicated than it sounds, but I will tell you everything. I just want you to hear me out. Will you listen? I promise I’ll explain, but you need to trust me -” Severus rambled on, rapidly speaking in fear Remus might choose to walk away from him if he stayed unresponsive for too long, but then he cut himself off because he didn’t natter needlessly in a fit of unrest. Severus spoke in concise, calm manner, not whatever this desperate plea to make Remus listen turned out to be.

He made biting comments, he offered a few sarcastic quips in the staff room when others were around, but Severus never prattled on like a dimwit. Remus bristled and within a blink of an eye he flitted around and stood behind him, holding his neck and jaw fiercely.

“Trust you? Last time I put my trust in you, I was stabbed in the back and I lost everything I held dear. I’m not making the same mistake twice, Death Eater scum,” Remus menacingly snarled, snaking a hand downward to Severus’ left arm. He gripped the wrist, wringing it painfully until Severus was sure he’d have bruises. He rolled up the sleeve and Remus scoffed, intentionally running his nails along the unsightly Dark Mark, a reminder of Severus’ past costly blunder.

Severus suppressed the whine in his throat that threatened to escape past his lips when Remus’ nails scratched him and the cuts started bleeding sluggishly. Fortunately, Remus was four weeks off from becoming a werewolf, though the scratches still hurt pretty bad. “You’re a snake, Snape. Lying, traitorous snake and I’m not falling for your lies. I’m warning you, stay away from me and Rafe. He’s my son. I carried him in my belly for nine months, I survived the birthing process and it was I who gave him love and support. You’re nothing but a sperm donor and you’d best remember that, Snape. I haven’t forgotten how you drugged my Wolfsbane so I would bear your fucking Prince heir. It’s too bad you won’t be getting your way. I told Rafe everything that transpired that night. I’m done speaking to you. I hope you like that grazed stamp of approval.”

Remus released him and looking at him with loathing he bumped Severus’ shoulder as he strut past him, scaling the staircase without sparing Severus a second glance. The rejection and threat felt so final, but if Remus really hated him so much he would have shot a stunner at him, which could do some really bad damage if he lost his footing. Remus could have used that time when he was falling over and tumbling down to move on from the mutually unpleasant (but necessary) altercation.

But he stayed and issued an ultimatum to him, which spurred Severus on. Potter senior and Black used to say he’s coward, but he wasn’t the one buried six feet under or on the run from authorities.

He knows what he must do. The spot where Remus scraped the skull tattoo hurt, but Severus reasoned that this pain was but a minuscule fraction compared to the mass of suffering he inflicted on his ex. Severus had borne hatred of others all his life, but after Remus’ sudden reappearance, it felt like divine intervention from god was at work. Not that he was awfully religious in the first place, but even a former Death Eater could pray for salvation of his darkened soul.

Severus’ eyes followed Remus’ silhouette till he truly couldn’t see him ascending the stairs to the Staff tower, where majority of personnel lived. He should go to bed; he had a lot to think about, plans to craft. He needed to win trust of all three Lupins. He also needed to check his stocks for aconite, dragon blood and moonstone. Whoever is providing Remus with Wolfsbane now pales in comparison to his brewing skills. Surely when he delivers him a dose of freshly brewed Wolfsbane Remus will thaw, bit by bit.

He’ll demolish those high wall his ex build around his heart and beg for his forgiveness. Maybe, just maybe he’ll get more than absolution. How could he let this opportunity to make up with his first (and only) lover pass?

There was only one thing standing in his way of reconnecting with Remus. His mistrust and resentment prevented any form of social interaction in private. He’ll need to corner Remus in a public space with a lot of eye witnesses. Could he do it though?

He turned on heel and poignantly, stared at his feet as he made the descent to the musty dungeons. Familiar smell of mildew on walls had an odd calming effect

Whole castle population heard Remus’ accusation and refusal to share meals with him. Despite those three hundred something unpleasant collective judging stares Severus wanted him back. He wanted Remus back in his life, in his arms and in his bed. It would be easier to court a temperamental occamy, but it would be in his best interests to make some adjustments to his caustic personality.

In order to accomplish his goal, he needed to win over Pomfrey and the unknown variable that was the youngest Lupin. Severus mulled over how he’ll corner all three Lupins as soon as his inflexible schedule would allow.

Severus threw a glance at the door with his current updated timetable he stuck on his bedroom door with some tape. He found his first lesson with third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, which would be happening in five days time on Monday. All he had to do was ask young Mr. Lupin to stay behind. What they’d talk about? Severus didn’t know what topics to touch on with Raphael. Remus called him ‘Rafe’ didn’t he? A nickname, shortened from his given name. Remus must have given his – their son a second name, even in largely pagan wizarding circles Brazilian wizards and muggles kept some Christian customs.

Approaching the medi witch shouldn’t prove to be too hard. In past he provided Pomfrey (before she left with Remus) and her recently deceased predecessor with all kinds of tonics and draughts. Maybe a few rarer variety potions would sweeten the pot and Pomfrey will listen to him without hexing off his bollocks and other sensitive private parts.

Trapping Remus would be the hardest part. Since he saw him, standing by the doors in Great Hall looking so handsome and with a wild glint in his eyes, his cock showed immediate interest. Only years of practicing Occlumency kept him from shocking his colleagues with a raging boner. But now, in the confines of his personal quarters Severus didn’t care to hide it any longer.

He shed off his cloak and robes, exposing the collar of a white undershirt. Severus frowned, unbuttoning the starched shirt all the way down to the last button. He popped the button on the pants and he pulled out the zipper carefully, biting back a moan as he slid off black pants along with underwear, revealing the leaking cock which saluted him proudly.

If he wanked now, it would only make him feel like even bigger tosser and pervert. He couldn’t well get off imagining Remus under him, employing that talented tongue and hands while the real deal presently thought he was a pathological liar, prat and murderous asshole.

Walking to the adjacent bathroom, Severus moodily turned on the tap with cold water. He stood under the freezing water for a long time, contemplating the possible outcomes of his interaction with the Lupin family members.

It was too soon to be excessively glum.

He lathered body wash on his chest and arms when some of the soapy substance prickled at the Dark Mark. Severus touched the faded skull & snake, seeing how the new scratch marks were now puffy and red. He ought to put an ointment on it; it wouldn’t do to lose feeling in his left arm to some minor inflammation.

Severus finished up his shower and still sopping wet, he stalked to his bedroom where he toweled up his hair and he was dry within a minute, with help of charms. Severus put on his left forearm ‘decorated’ with the hideous tattoo some essence of murtlap and dittany, which helped tremendously. Satisfied with the result, he changed into nightwear and slipped under the sheets.

He’ll draw up a proper strategy plan in the morning, when he’s clear – headed, he mused as he made up his mind to proceed with courting Remus, getting to know Rafe and earn grudging approval from Poppy. Severus drifted off soon afterwards, though he didn’t sleep peacefully. He rarely got a full night’s sleep as his constant companions, the nightmares of his past mistakes still haunted him.

Severus slept badly that night.

Rafe was used to being ogled by strangers. In Brazil he had looks which passed for ‘exotic’ as he was only slightly tanned (no amount of sunbathing could give him more than a small tinge of bronze, sadly) and if he sunbathed for too long Rafe resembled a steamed crab. It was a lesson he and his dad got early on when he was still just a small kid. Needless to say, they both had learned their lessons to not try and blend in with Brazilian witches and wizards that way.

His English roots and vaguely tanned skin lent him air of aristocracy. His old friends used to say his hooked nose added to his playful traits. They had also joked his other parent must be a vampire because he got sunburns easily. He merely smiled at the jibes. Two distinctly different dark creatures couldn’t breed together after all and dad assured him the bastard who abandoned them before Rafe even properly formed in dad’s tummy was very much human.

Due to the old habits Rafe was up earlier than his two roommates, who would also be his immediate friends and classmates because Hogwarts operated on House friendships and rivalries were encouraged. Such a thing didn’t exist at his old school and neither did the novelty of dressing up in fancy posh uniforms and robes.

It was mind boggling why a wizarding school would proliferate segregation. Then again, Rafe recalled dad’s tales of his school days, which were now corrupted by the shadow of duplicitous friendships. Rafe was guarded around the two boys who introduced themselves to him yesterday and he learned that Ernie comes from a pureblood family and Justin is a muggleborn, which put him right in the middle with his halfblood status. His dad had warned him to not trust too easily, that he should be always vigilant. He excessively warned him about talking to Gryffindors and Slytherins, but they had made a compromise that Rafe was allowed to form friendships as he saw fit. Only Potter was one sole exception to the rule. Rafe had no desire to befriend Potter, so he agreed readily to the stipulation.

As for Ernie and Justin, he wasn’t sure what to make of them. They were intrigued by him (understandable, not many students transfer to Hogwarts from another school abroad) and at the same time they were cautious around him. Rafe felt like he could give them benefit of doubt, seeing as he shared same room with them.

Understandingly, they were wary of him for showing up out of nowhere with new unfriendly medi witch and even more unsociable Defense professor who was also his father and a werewolf.

Rafe grew weary of the way older Hufflepuffs were choosing to keep their distance from him. As soon as he showed up in the common room the following morning and they dispersed to furthest corners of commons by groups or two’s it was a clear denunciation. It seemed he wasn’t good enough to be in this funky House. Rafe was chagrined and annoyed.

Socializing with everyone was a big part of Rafe’s previous school experience, so when some fifth year girls made excuses just to not be near him Rafe’s patience was thinning. Lycanthropy cannot be passed on genetically from parent to offspring; are they really so daft or is education at this pile of rocks really so abysmal?

He was walking by an unoccupied sofa when two girls who introduced themselves shortly as Hannah and Susan had invited him to sit down and have some tea with them before they went upstairs to have breakfast. Rafe took the opportunity to finally hang out with willing conversation participants.

Hannah and Susan were polite to a fault. Nicer than he expected because hardly anyone spoke to him yesterday during the feast outside of curious Justin and quite nosy Ernie, but nosiness was apparently a very prominent Hufflepuff trait. So, as he gathered from his interactions so far, this is a House full of nosy busybodies who work too hard and are hard on themselves.

He took the offered seat and lounging comfortably on bright yellow cushioned sofa, Rafe picked up a lukewarm cup of English breakfast tea (again, how very snobbish) from saucer and he took a sip. As he was drinking, he wondered why no one had yet asked him the big question. Rafe wasn’t about to deny anything. He wasn’t born under good circumstances, but he won’t deny the other half of his parentage. Kinda hard to deny anything when he and the Potions professor look eerily similar.

Ernie and Justin appeared from the corridor and Hannah waved them over. The two boys approached them with varying levels of apprehension. Rafe sighed, putting his cup down on saucer. “Contrary to the rumors spread by ignorant masses werewolves are made, not born. I don’t bite, unless you want me to,” he said, winking at Susan and Hannah who chuckled demurely.

Ernie and Justin rolled their eyes and approached the sofa, choosing to sit beside him on either side, so Rafe was properly boxed in. He guessed what they wanted to ask. Suspiciously, all conversations around them either ceased or became hushed.

However, he wouldn’t make it easy for them. If they wanted to know, they’d have to ask him directly. It was Justin who spoke up after he had some sort of silent communication with Ernie and the girls sitting across them on similarly cushioned, antique chairs. Rafe gazed at the dark haired boy with amusement as he opened and closed his mouth multiple times, as if he was chewing on them.

This was more entertaining than it had any right to be, Rafe mused as he noticed small droplets of sweat forming on Justin’s forehead. “Whatever you wanna ask, I swear I won’t take offense,” he assured the four skeptical third years, placing his hands in his lap to appear nonthreatening.

Fear of werewolves got worse over the years since his dad and Grandma Poppy left. Even if he was a werewolf like his dad, full moon would make an appearance in about four weeks time. It’s not like the condition had a switch with a turn on and off options. He won’t spontaneously sprout fur and maul the whole Hufflepuff House.

Hannah sighed and she finished her tea, then she set it down on saucer noisily. Rafe pleasantly smiled at her and pale Susan when Hannah gathered courage to ask him something personal in the propinquity of other equally snooping Hufflepuffs seated close to the five third years. “So, we are curious. You said you transferred here from a wizarding school in Brazil, which is exciting, don’t get me wrong, but we are all wondering about something,” Hannah started, doubtlessly formulating a question in her head that wouldn’t come off as too problematic or offensive.

Rafe was infinitely amused by these prudish Brits and their reluctance to address homosexual relationships. In Brazil it wasn’t taboo to take a lover of same gender. The Ministry even allowed bonding ceremonies and marriages. “Yes? I’m as they say all ears.”

“Um, does professor Snape have a sister?” Hannah babbled out, turning red with embarrassment.

If Rafe was drinking from his cup in that moment, he would have spat the tea out right in the girls’ faces. A huge grin worthy of Cheshire cat spread on his face. “What gave you that idea? As far as I know, my other father has no siblings.” He drawled in reply, enjoying the flustered looks from Hannah and Susan. In his peripheral vision he caught the reddened, astonished faces of his roommates.

“Are you implying that you’re really related to professor Snape in that way?!” A snooping sixth year shrieked, looking horrified (and maybe a tad intrigued) at the implication he dropped.

Rafe smugly smirked, eyeballing the other Hufflepuffs around them. “Yes, I am most definitely related to that man. I thought the nose and hair gave it away. I am the son of Remus Lupin and Severus Snape.”

“Impossible!! Two men cannot conceive!” Another voice cried out from the inquisitive crowd and Rafe sighed. “Do I have to tell you how it works? Does Hogwarts offer no sex ed lessons? Very well then. When two people love each other very much or are just too horny they have sex and most often a kid comes out of one of them after nine months. Did I thoroughly exhaust that line of inane questioning?” Rafe retorted a bit peevishly, glaring at the other students.

“It’s just not possible. Men cannot give birth, they lack the, uh, body parts and organs,” someone piped up in a grating, nerdy voice. Rafe glanced in the direction of the voice, smirking despite his rising irritation. “Do you all claim to be experts at wizarding medicinal procedures? Perhaps you’ve secretly finished further education as healer, medi wizard or medi witch to make that bold claim? Wizards can perform all kinds of magic and can brew any kind of potions. Nothing is impossible for our kind. Anyway, I’m making one thing clear. Professor Snape and I may be father and son, but I have never met him and so far, I have only negative opinion of him for abandoning my dad when he was still pregnant. If you wanna hear the whole juicy story behind it, ask your parents or acquaintances.” Rafe nudged Justin’s legs and he took the hint; he moved his feet out of the way and Rafe stood up.

Rafe ambled to the opposite site of commons, toward the great barrel lid. He looked at the flabbergasted faces of his classmates. Furrowing a brow he called out to them to follow. Still flushing like maidens from a typical Victorian era muggle story the four of them simultaneously rose up on their feet and trundled to the great barrel which doubled as the secret entrance.

Maybe he was a bit harsh on those homophobic folks, but it wasn’t his fault they were so misinformed. Have they never heard of fertility potions or gender changing rituals (which lost power after set amount of time) before? While Rafe was provided only the barest hints about his conception, he had a hunch that none of the methods he thought of just now were used. He often saw the scars from surgery on his dad’s lower belly. Those scars looked distinctly different from the ones father used to inflict on himself every month for years, before he ran free with other werewolves, thus the wolf no longer saw need to maim himself.

He had a feeling that there was a reason why dad refused to take Wolfsbane Potion other than it allegedly tasted vile, like dragon piss and hippogriff shit combined. For quite some time now Rafe suspected the other father had done something to the potion. Deliberately or on accident, but it had happened.

His dad suspected the other father knew and yet he still told a secret that wasn’t his to tell to over a hundred assembled wizards and witches at that party. Other unpleasant revelations aside, Rafe was sure it was the other father’s fault that dad had closed off his heart and he didn’t allow anyone in whose last name wasn’t Lupin.

Very soon, Rafe will get a chance to see him teach. He’ll stay after class and remind the other father of his place. His dad had suffered enough loss and heartbreak. Steeling himself, Rafe hitched his arms around Ernie’s and Justin’s necks, drawing them closer. That gesture earned him a few bewildered looks, but otherwise he stuck it out and the three boys walked to the cafeteria with Rafe in the middle and the girls in front of them.

The Hufflepuff common room was close to the eatery, which had a name. At Castelobruxo the place where everyone ate had no special name. Another Hogwarts oddity, Rafe thought as he and his four classmates approached the double doors, which were left open wide so anyone could enter and leave freely.

Routinely, the two boy and girls headed for the table adorned in yellowish toned drapes and abundantly supplied with foods. Rafe, who was still deep in thought about his chat with professor Snape didn’t look where he was going and he collided with someone. The other person fell on the ground with a ‘oof’ sound.

He looked at the other teen’s face, about to extend his hand and apology when he saw who it was. Immediately he stepped back, sneering at the bespectacled boy with green eyes. His robes had red accents and the lion sewed on his chest affirmed his thoughts. Rafe knew him. Not personally, of course, but Ernie regaled him with stories about how Potter killed a dark wizard as a baby.

Potter expectantly waited for Rafe to offer him a helping hand and Rafe smirked, flashing his teeth as he walked past him without apologizing. “How rude!” A girl with bushy hair exclaimed as she bent down and pulled Potter up together with a ginger boy, who scowled at him, but he was also perplexed. Sadly, the confused ginger was also a Gryffindor and most likely Potter’s friend. A poor choice of friendship, he should give the boy a fair warning. After all, apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Rafe briefly looked at the Staff table, to the empty seats of his grandma and dad. The other father had stared at him intently, but he looked away. He wasn’t in mood for mind games, at least not until he had some food in him. And then, another trio stood in his way. This time the girl had a sleek bob cut hairstyle and intriguing nose. The other guy was tall, maybe as tall as the ginger, albeit this one had more of a trim swimmer figure. Lastly, Rafe’s eyes glided over to the last person, who had blond hair, gray eyes and sharp angular face. This second trio was dressed in fashionable green accented robes and the logo on the front of their robes bore a snake. Slytherins and probably year mates. How intriguing. What do they want from him so early in the morning?

The blond looked behind Rafe’s shoulder for a split second, then he grinned. “Lupin, was it? Good work on taking Potter down a peg,” the blond spoke, his eyes sparked with excitement. Rafe shrugged. “I didn’t do it on purpose at first, but then I saw whom I had knocked down. I don’t want to be associated with the likes of Potter,” Rafe replied a bit more vocally how he intended and nearby students gaped at him in pure disbelief.

He was aware what they may be thinking; how could someone hate Harry Potter? It was quite easy with the history their parents had. And even if Potter wasn’t aware, Rafe was and he would sooner dye his hair neon pink than become friends with the person whose parents had used and betrayed his dad.

“So, he hates Saint Potter, then,” the blond boy spoke in a quite tone, more to himself than to Rafe, but he still heard him.

Rafe glimpsed at the Gryffindor table, where in the middle Potter, the bushy haired girl and the ginger guy with blue eyes were sitting. He turned back and offered the blond a smile. “Hate doesn’t even begin to describe how much I loathe him. Though, his ginger friend is a cutie. Too bad he picked such bad company. Maybe I can still save him from Potter’s clutches.”

The girl and other boy smirked as the blond sputtered, seemingly choking on his own saliva. “You think Weasley is cute?” He blurted out, incredulously. Rafe nodded. “Yeah, in a few years he will be even more handsome I reckon. Why are you asking? Am I stepping on your toes, blondie?”

“N-No, don’t spout nonsense, Lupin. Weasley is a blood traitor and a guy!”

Again with that false machismo. From the blond’s reaction he guessed he still was in denial about his preferences. British folks and their need to appear manly even at the cost of hiding, locking away their true selves. Internalized homophobia was on rise around the castle. Rafe wondered how many boys and girls were told by their parents to not look at their roommates in a romantic (or sexual, sometimes both) way.

“Gender or blood status do not matter where I come from. Brazil is very broadminded country. At any rate, it was nice talking to you, uh… I didn’t catch your names.”

The girl smirked. “I’m Pansy. Pansy Parkinson.” Rafe shook her much smaller, delicate hand. He took great care to not crush her fingers, sometimes Rafe underestimated his strength. “I’m Blaise Zabini.” The tall guy added and Rafe thought the name sounded outlandish for a British wizarding family. Maybe they also moved here from another country?

He shook with Blaise’s hand, surprised at his warm grip and friendliness in those brown eyes had surprised him, but in a good way. He had expected the worst from the famed Slytherins. Maybe they could overlook his dad’s lycanthropy because he had offended Potter?

The blond stepped closer, extending his hand in a handshake. Rafe quickly complied and gripped the offered hand in a friendly manner. Rafe hoped it would piss Potter off; that he didn’t plan on apologizing nor acknowledging him and that he easily accepted friendships with Slytherins, no matter how tentative at the present time. “I’m Draco Malfoy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Rafe beamed at him, Pansy and Blaise. “You know my name, but I will repeat it anyway. I’m Raphael Lupin, but friends call me Rafe. Feel free to use that instead of the mouthful my dad named me. At any rate, it’s very nice to meet you, Draco. Pansy. Blaise.” He let go of the blond’s, now only Draco’s hand as he corrected himself in his head. “I never knew someone from Brazil. How was school over there? Did you also have to room with other students?” Pansy inquired, drawing closer as she looked up at him. “Castelobruxo is at least five times larger than this school. It’s hard to describe to someone who’s only ever seen the shithole called Hogwarts, but it’s magnificent and quite a sight to behold. It’s hidden deep in Amazonian rainforest. If students were from afar, they had the option to stay in, even during summer breaks. For those such as I who lived within walking or apparating distance to school we simply ‘commuted’ albeit I use that term loosely.”

Someone suddenly pulled him down to sit on the bench at the Hufflepuff table. It was Ernie, who sheepishly stared at the Slytherin trio. “You can chat with Rafe later, Malfoy.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Ernie, who held his gaze and then as if some mental battle of wits concluded, the Slytherins stalked back wordlessly to their own House table.

“Are you crazy?! Fraternizing with Slytherins is dangerous!!” Justin hissed in Rafe’s ear. He glanced at him and around the Hufflepuff table. Everyone stared at him like he grew a second head.

Rafe frowned. “Why, because all Slytherins are doomed to become dark wizards and witches? Do you know how many dark wizards have been Hufflepuffs? One of us ‘Puffs in the long, distant past was a genocidal maniac. We shouldn’t be so quick to decide who is bad based on our Houses.”

“How do you know that?”

“I had a week to prepare for the impromptu transfer, so I educated myself on customs and history of the Founders and some exceptional witches and wizards that went to Hogwarts, like Merlin for example. I learned from books and from my grandma and dad, who are the new medi witch and DADA professor by the by… and as I can see they really meant it yesterday that they won’t come to canteen, uh, Great Hall to eat. If the Hat Sorted me into Gryffindor I would demand I stay with my family.”

Susan furrowed her brow, stumped by the new information. “So, you’re saying you hate Gryffindors? Why?”

Rafe shook his head. “Not all of them. Potter is the one with whom I ‘have some beef’ as muggles say.”

“Rafe, mate. Harry is not a bad guy –“ Ernie began, but he cut him off, tetchily staring at the boy. “Maybe not, but I don’t like him and I’m not changing my mind,” Rafe closed the debate and embarrassed, Ernie had shut up. The following silence that enveloped the five teens as if they were in another dimension, separated from others in a magical bubble was heavy with unspoken questions. Questions to which Rafe didn’t want to respond. Truly, Hufflepuff was filled with meddlers.

Rafe longingly glanced at the Slytherin table. Would his classmates mind if he relocated to sit with Draco and his friends or would it be too bold? Would it count as ‘consorting’ with the snakes? Frankly, he didn’t understand why everyone was so enamored with Potter and why everyone so eagerly defended him.

Unless others realized he could have friends in other Houses and dislike Potter, he wouldn’t bother talking to them, especially to Ernie. Rafe got up and he threw a heated look at them, his eyes and lingered on Ernie who visibly shrunk in his seat under Rafe’s scrutiny. “Until you lot realize I am not bound by your stupid House rivalries or preconceptions, you needn’t bother talking to me. I will befriend whoever I want and I can hate whoever I want,” he made a biting remark as he sauntered over to the Slytherin table. Horrified gasps echoed throughout the Great Hall and Rafe smiled, waving at the gossipers.

He waved at Draco, who nodded at him, patting an empty space on his right. Rafe overlooked some suspicious gazes from older Slytherins. Blaise introduced some other Slytherin boys and girls in their year and he acknowledged each and every one with a firm, friendly handshake. Most notably Theo was surprised by Rafe’s outgoingness. “I thought Hufflepuffs didn’t trust us. You’re not cut from the same cloth as rest of them badgers, are you? Brazenly sitting with us,” Theo commented.

“I’m not participating in this asinine popularity pissing contest. At my old school there were no differences between students. Everyone could pick their friends or be a loner if they so desired,” Rafe provided a reply to the listening Slytherins. He grabbed himself a full plate with scrambled eggs and toast and he dug in.

“Oh, so you’re saying it was okay over there for purebloods to mingle with those of mixed birth and eh, non – magical parentage?” A blond girl, Daphne asked. Rafe swallowed the fluffy goodness and he peered at the girl who sat with Pansy and other two girls, Millie and Tracy. “Totally okay. There’s no shunning based on Houses and blood status. Also the instructors and the headmaster take bullying claims seriously and properly investigate until they refute or confirm a claim. Repeated instances of bullying lead into expulsion without a chance to reapply next year. Just talking about Castelobruxo makes me feel a bit homesick, but as I had gathered we’re staying at least until I graduate from Hogwarts. It’ll be a while till I can return back home…”

“You’re staying for what, four years and then you go back? What if you want to stay?” Blaise asked.

He hadn’t thought so far into the future yet. This was his first day and already his house mates had some odd designs on him. Who do they think they are, making decisions for him. No, if they didn’t take those sticks out of their asses, Rafe was content with not having friends in the badger’s burrow if they didn’t accept he wasn’t going to conform and bend his morals to suit theirs.

“I guess I’ll convince my dad and grandma we stay in Britain. Did I mention my dad and professor Snape went to school here together?”

“Really? Was professor Lupin also in Slytherin then?” Millie asked, between raising glass of juice to her lips.

Rafe laughed. “Goodness, no! My dad was in Gryffindor. He was pals with Potter’s parents, some other guy and the famous mass murderer currently on the run, Sirius Black.”

“Oh. That’s odd, considering what we know of professor Snape. He hardly seems the type to settle down. How did a Gryffindor and Slytherin hook up long enough to have a kid? I take it your family left before you were born?” Greg piped up, feasting on some soggy colored hoops drowned in milk.

Before they arrived at their new home Rafe had a long discussion with his family about telling other people what transpired in the past. They had decided to not conceal anything and Rafe got his dad’s permission to tell their version of events of that night to anyone willing to listen. Which is how Rafe found himself thinking how and where to start. He decided to keep it short.

“Long story short? My dad and professor Snape were boyfriends. But then at alumni party in 1980 hosted at Malfoy Manor my other father revealed to other guests that my dad is a werewolf and he made some allegations against dad’s other friends which turned out to be real. He also divested that he never actually loved my dad. My dad felt cornered and judged, so he fled the party and he went to visit his godmother, who later became my grandma through adoption. After my dad told her what happened at the party, together they went to fetch my grandparents. Lyall and Hope Lupins. Unfortunately, they were too late. The cottage was enclosed in dark magical flames. To further mock my dad, the responsible firestarters, a group of Death Eaters had shot the sign of Dark Mark on the night sky. Dad suspects professor Snape was among the crowd of arsonists, but he has no tangible proof. The Lupin home burned down completely, with my grandparents trapped or unconscious inside. My dad and grandma Poppy left Britain. I was born in a Brazilian wizarding hospice, where my grandma worked until recently. Fast forward thirteen years later, we’re back. Huh, for a shortened version of events, this speech was still rather long. Nonetheless, here it is and feel free to spread it around. After all, my dad was cast out because he tried to hide his lycanthropy. Now he just no longer cares who knows and I agree with that sentiment. He didn’t ask to be bitten when he was still a child.”

“Wow.” Theo muttered. Rafe gazed at the Slytherins around him. They looked dumbfounded by Rafe’s revelation.

“Talk about a bad breakup,” Draco remarked dryly, shaking his head as he shoot a glance at the head table.

As breakups went, his parents’ fallout was pretty bad, Rafe thought, systematically eating his fast depleting serving of scrambled eggs as everyone else seemed to lose appetite. Rafe heard the tale so many times that it no longer affected him, but the Slytherins had yet to take in everything he told them.

“I understand now why professor Lupin and school’s new medi witch don’t want to share a meal with our House Head. It's hard to overlook such a big transgression,” Blaise stated, staring in the depths of his cup of tea. “Yeah, but the past is that; a past we cannot change. My family chose to live in the present. Speaking of present, when are we getting our schedules?” Rafe inquired, his eyes jumped from face to face until Draco gestured with head frontward.

As if on cue, the stern witch from yesterday, professor McGonagall was nearing the Slytherin table. She waved her wand and stack of papers flew at their heads. Rafe caught the one hovering above him. He checked his schedule for today. He had a lesson with dad in the afternoon, at 4 pm. Other than that, he had Transfiguration, History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures.

A lesson with his other father was listed in five days time, in the morning. Rafe still didn’t know what to to think of professor Snape, who gawked at him, even now with unreadable expression. Rafe thought how he must feel with the Lupin family’ reappearance. Was he angry or horrified? Did he feel guilty? A mix of all three perhaps? Despite everything, the bastard who abandoned his dad to the wolves, so to speak was still a human. And humans make mistakes all the time. Why, Rafe assumed his roommates were fine young English gentlemen, but they were short – sighted and placed Potter on a pedestal.

Rafe was so preoccupied with his thoughts he missed arrival of the Gryffindor House Head. Draco whispered to him they had company and Rafe glanced up at the witch who studied him. She looked old enough to have taught his dad, so perhaps looking at him felt like plunging back in the past when his dad and other father were younger.

Her eyes zeroed in on Rafe. “Mr. Lupin, you’re not sitting at Hufflepuff table with your classmates,” she noted, her voice had a bite to it. Rafe mischievously placed his hand beyond Draco’s neck and he pulled squawking blond in a semi hug. “But professor, I am sitting with my classmates. I am talking and eating breakfast with my new friends.”

Professor McGonagall squinted, pursing her lips in a thin line. “Go back to your House table, Mr. Lupin. This is a highly irregular disturbance,” she told him sternly and Rafe’s smile fell off somewhat.

So, she’s one of those stick in the mud codger teachers who promote ‘diversity’ and concurrently tell students to not associate with the ‘snakes’ because they’re bound to become evil dark witches and wizards. So much hypocrisy and double standards coming from supposed educators. At Castelobruxo this kind of behavior would not fly. Headmaster Vidal was a pragmatic man, but also fair. He treated everyone the same. Rafe doubted the Headmaster of Hogwarts was such a good man with a deep sense of justice and intact morality.

A good man would have sent an owl to his dad about dementors coming to guard the school and spared the Lupins from that particularly nasty ambush yesterday.

He scowled and it was Draco who replied for him, haughtily in a posh accent. “Last time I checked, sitting at other House tables was not forbidden. Rafe isn’t violating any rules of conduct. If we all decided to crash at Gryffindor table, which we won’t by the way, it still wouldn’t be breaking any school rules, professor,” Draco retorted curtly.

“You’re right, Mr. Malfoy. It has been a while since someone dared to cross the invisible boundaries between Houses. Perhaps this needs to change. Very well then. Mr. Lupin, you can stay at Slytherin table,” she nodded at them and headed back to retake her place at the main table in front.

Draco scoffed. “Old bint,” he whispered, theatrically rolling his eyes. Rafe, Blaise and Pansy who were the closest and heard him chuckled at Draco’s frustration. Dealing with a biased teacher was something Rafe had no experience with at his old school, although majority of his old teachers were magical beings who brought unique perspectives into subjects they taught.

Rafe lowered his eyes back to his meal and resumed eating. He assumed classes would start soon and he had to part with his Slytherin buddies soon to go back to his dorm and fill his bag with books, notebooks, two rolls of parchments, inkwell and a quill, plus some muggle ballpoint pens (in case quill broke or he ran out of ink) he needed for today’s lectures.  

It would be nice if Ernie and others got their heads out of their behinds sometime before dinner was served, but Rafe won’t hold his breath. It will happen or it won’t, there was no middle ground for improvement of inter – house relation if they didn’t even try to understand there was no need to adhere and comply thoughtlessly to olden bigotry of far gone eras.

Soon, people around them started rising and pushing the empty plates and bowl aside. Rafe, too knew he should go back to his dorm and get ready. A guy gets only one first day at new school and Rafe intended to make the most out of it.

He placed the fork down on his plate and he waved at Draco, Blaise and Pansy and then he turned around and he caught Hannah, Susan, Justin and Ernie waiting for him by the double doors.

Maybe they were more flexible than he gave them credit for, Rafe mused amusedly as he drew closer and Ernie patted his arm. “We apologize. You weren’t raised in British conservative circles like were were. Look, Rafe. If you wanna befriend Slytherins, we are fine with it and we won’t exclude your from our social circle. Regarding your hatred for Harry, we have caught some of what you said to Malfoy and others around you. I understand his parents did something horrible to professor Lupin and while we don’t think it’s very Hufflepuff to hold a grudge, we understand how you feel. So, do you think you can give us another chance?” Ernie stuck out his arm while Justin, Hannah and Susan smiled at them.

Rafe shook with Ernie’s hand. “Alright. Let’s just go back to our commons before another teacher comes to chastise us for being tardy and blocking the exit,” Rafe said, grinning as Ernie appeared to be relieved.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Justin casually grabbed Hannah’ and Rafe’s hands, tugging them along. The five Hufflepuffs made their way back to the kitchens. They passed by the portrait of a bowl with fruits and went a bit further to the giant barrels. Rafe rapped his knuckles on a barrel in a rhythm of ‘Hel – ga Huff – le – puff’ and the biggest barrel’s lid soundlessly slid aside.

Rafe marched to his shared room with Justin and Ernie. He thought that things didn’t have to be so bleak after all. With renewed belief that everything will work out for him and his family, Rafe strode to his bedside to assess the huge pile of books that had arrived for him while he was snacking. House elves had likely delivered his books after his dad asked them.

Humming to himself, Rafe starting sorting through the books.

When he was done with that task, he hoisted his heavy knapsack over his shoulder. Rafe ambled over to the door, waiting for two boys to finish up so they can leave together.

Eleven minutes later as he was heading outside to attend his first Care of Magical Creatures lecture, Rafe thought that he might grew to like Hogwarts, with good enough incentive.

Chapter Text

Library at Hogwarts had a very scholastic vibe and once he got over the fact that it was also nearly empty (disappointing, really) Rafe took a seat with his Hufflepuff friends at one of the many tables, unfortunately located in the proximity of whispering (and failing at it horribly) Gryffindors in red accents.

Because fate was a fickle, spiteful (or forgetful) old lady, it meant that none other than Potter and his groupies were assembled nearby. Despite not really wanting to listen in to their flowing conversation, Rafe caught an excerpt from the girl’s enthused rambling.

“He skipped ahead to page 394, straight to werewolves! I’ve learned so much about them! Actual useful and new information that cannot be found in any of the literature! Professor Lupin may be a bit cold and eccentric, but he knows what he’s talking about. I wonder what creature we’ll be covering next. Maybe vampires?”

An older redhead smirked. “I know! He’s great! He told us that O.W.L.s students should practice our wandwork more, so I dueled with Fred and Lee the whole time. Thank goodness this guy is not like Lockhart,” another older ginger teen shot back excitedly.

Rafe, who was unashamedly eavesdropping smirked as the gaggle of Gryffindors spoke in hushed tone about their first lessons with the tall, dark and handsome professor Lupin.

Okay, they left out the dark part, but it still amused him as Potter’s ginger friend (he learned his name was Ron Weasley from Draco) and the girl with bushy hair (Hermione Granger) were having a debate with older Gryffindors (and possibly brothers of Ron, judging by the hair and family resemblance) about their first impressions of Rafe’s dad.

Ernie snorted quite loudly, which made Ron, the girl and unfortunately Potter glance their way. “Professor Lupin did that for our joint lecture with Ravenclaws, too. I can’t believe such prejudiced drivel is being taught as truth. Werewolves are not the bogeymen out of legends nor unscrupulous murderers with no morals. Majority of them just try to live a normal life. It’s honestly unfair how they’re treated in Great Britain. Something needs to change!”

The words he was transcribing became smudged as he looked up at Ernie with something akin to respect.

He glanced down at his ruined notes. He pulled out his wand, quickly trying to right the little error. Annoyed by the nuisance, Rafe pressed the tip of his wand on the parchment, purging his notes about werewolf physiology of excess ink, thus making them readable again.

Seriously, education at Hogwarts must have been terrible, if what he heard about dad’s predecessors turned out to be real facts. Deaths and magical lasting injuries.

And on top of that, Rafe learned recently that allegedly the job his dad took on is cursed and everyone either dies or ends up permanently wounded, one way or another.

“Guys, why does the new professor hate me?” Potter murmured softly, his eyes shone with unshed tears and Rafe spied the clenched fists below the table.

Oh, the plot thickens, Rafe mused as Potter was getting comforted by his friends. “Harry, mate, he doesn’t hate you –“ the ginger friend, Ron reacted, softly rubbing Potter’s shoulder and then Rafe interrupted him. “Actually, my dad abhors him. Potter’s parents had done a very, very bad thing to my dad. Surely by now you’ve heard the story circulating around school. Of course, I helped it spread around all Houses.”

“But that’s ridiculous! I wasn’t even born yet! It wasn’t my fault!!” Potter screamed and Rafe scoffed. It had everything to do with him. Potter’s mother chose to protect her precious reputation; she chose to throw dad under the bus as his reputation was ruined and in tatters. Not what he’d call a shining example of camaraderie and solidarity. But why should he bother explaining to Potter how workings of deep seated betrayal could make even the strongest, kindest person become cynical, standoffish?

Fortunately, he had a perfect excuse to leave library. He was done listening to the bespectacled teen’s whining anyway. Rafe stashed his things away, though he was super careful with his still drying notes. Rafe picked up his school bag. “Potions start soon,” he bit out, watching Justin and Ernie frenetically putting away their notes.

Rafe stopped by Potter’s clique briefly to mess around with Potter, though he mainly did it to determine whether Ron was interested in blokes. “I never tire of seeing your lovely face. See ya around, Ron,” he winked and marched past astounded, flushed redhead, frowning Potter, bemused girl with ritzy hair and Ron’s amused older brothers. Once they were in central hall Justin elbowed him, grinning. “Are you hitting on Ron?”

“Kinda, but not for myself. I know a certain someone who is in denial about liking a certain ginger who just happens to be Potter’s buddy,” he provided a vague explanation to Justin and Ernie.

“And won’t that certain someone get angry if you’re sweet on Weasley?” Ernie questions as they cross into the lower level of castle. “Maybe, maybe not. But something must change and I’m determined to be a wingman to two neurotic Brits and colossal idiots at that.” Neither Justin nor Ernie had a snarky remark to shoot back at him, so as they hit the bottom stair of dungeons, Rafe felt the distinct shift in air. It was colder, draftier as if the walls had holes in them. He bundled his robes closer around himself. Soon they had met up with Hannah and Susan plus their year mates, the Ravenclaws. Some of them were alright people, at least so far he had pretty neutral opinion about them.

Ravenclaws pressed the door handle and began going inside, past the low doorstep. When he moseyed along with his classmates, Rafe looked around to take in his surroundings.

Work stations with cauldrons, shelves with ingredients lined almost all walls, except the wall behind a table in the front. To the right of the table stood a blackboard, filled with instructions for a series of antidotes. Rafe chose a spot in the back, with rest of Hufflepuffs. From the stories he heard from his family and from classmates, his other father wasn’t anyone’s favorite teacher, except maybe Slytherins. Well, the lecture’s about to start, so he’ll see for himself soon enough why majority of school populace seems to hate this class.

The door ominously slid open and in slithered (almost like a snake with legs) with elegance a tall figure swathed in black. His even blacker curtain of hair did a good job of hiding his features, though the hooked nose and sarcastic smile were hard to disguise.

Rafe smiled in similar fashion, straightening his spine as the daunting professor Snape had stood behind the teacher’s table. “This year you’ll learn fundamentals of crafting anti – toxins in first half of school year. In second half I’ll be randomly choosing one of you as volunteer. Acute poisonings happen more often in our circles than one might think. If you get a high enough mark in Potions O.W.L.s, I’ll teach you more advanced techniques and potions of that kind in sixth and seventh years. For now, let’s start with something easy. Instructions,” he waved his wand and the older technological process of brewing a potion got replaced by new set of concise, easily readable writing, “are on the board. Gather your ingredients and begin. You have an hour to impress me. Especially you, Mr. Lupin should be able to do this potion without breaking a sweat. I have to see for myself whether Castelobruxo’s teaching methods are as advanced as the headmaster tells me.”

Well, how can he back out, when he’s been specifically singled out among his peers? Rafe diffidently bowed his head as he trailed after the girls. He had a feeling he was being watched and most likely he was being scrutinized and analyzed by the no longer smiling professor.

Rafe came back to his station after two minutes, with armful of raw ingredients that needed to be cut, crushed, squeezed, boiled etc, so he shed off his robes, rolled up the sleeves of the fancy posh uniform and he got to work.

He had focused on his task, blocking out any and all noises from nearby stations. When he had everything prepared according to the instructions, Rafe double checked the brewing process. He immediately spotted at least two steps that were unnecessary. Should he skip those steps, do things his way or stick to them like it was expected from a rule – loving Hufflepuff?

There wasn’t much to think about, really. He always did things his way and the teacher (ostentatious goblin) had always preferred to teach his class liberally, though there were a few accidents of course from such liberal form of teaching young generations of witches and wizards. Rafe fondly reminisced about those classes, filling his cauldron with the base potion first before he added the first batch of non – skippable ingredients. No one talked loudly with other students, which struck him as odd. Maybe professor Snape didn’t tolerate inane banter.

So in absence of light chattering Rafe refocused on his bubbling concoction. When he ignored those redundant steps a melodious, cold voice called out to him. Rafe couldn’t help but grin as he lowered the flames dancing below his cauldron. Unmistakable steps bounded closer, closer until professor Snape stopped, he stood directly next to him. The expression on his face was for the lack of better word one that could be described as funny. “Mr. Lupin,” he started off, disapproval dribbling from his tone and in combination with that jumbled sneer/worried expression Rafe couldn’t resist to rile the man up even more.

Professor Snape repeated his name, more sternly and Rafe glanced up from him, pretending he had just noticed his presence. “Yes, DNA provider?”

Ernie snorted; the girls snickered into their sleeves and two or three Ravenclaws had full on smirked. “Twenty points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Lupin for disregarding the instructions on blackboard. Another twenty for mocking me, your professor. Our familial situation has no place here. You will only address me as professor Snape or sir. Do I make myself clear?”

Rafe’s grin waned momentarily, but he recovered quickly and plastered on a remorseful expression. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he responded and the man was about to turn and walk away when Rafe spoke up. He’s not backing down. “I’m not sorry however for doing things my way. At my old school prodigal students were encouraged to mix and brew potions however they wanted. I know what I’m doing; I’m Hogwarts' second Halfblood Prince.”

The reactions around him differed greatly. Most of his classmates looked confounded, some were intrigued and Rafe smiled triumphantly as the other father’s complexion turned alarmingly green, his lips formed a thin line. The nearly black eyes burned with barely concealed anger. “Get out.” That one line effectively wiped Rafe’s tentative smile off his face.

Suddenly he was being dragged by his arm toward the exit and Rafe wondered if he pressed the man’s buttons a bit too much. He wanted to rile him up, get a genuine reaction out of him and issue a threat that he’d better stay away from his grandma and dad.

Unceremoniously, he was thrown outside the class and Rafe, too dumbfounded to retort a witty remark about practicing reverse nepotism had stared into eyes of livid professor. “Mr. Goldstein and Mr. Finch – Fletchey, we’ll be back soon. In the meantime see to it no one blows up my classroom or you all will be serving detention until this school year ends,” professor Snape barked a clear order in a cool, commanding tone, then he closed the door with a booming thudding sound. Rafe winced slightly, which earned him a mildly less exasperated look.  

“Sir, where are we going?” He asked defiantly as he tried and failed to wriggle his arm out of the other father’s unexpectedly strong grip. He didn’t answer and Rafe resigned himself to his fate as he was hauled further from the Potions classroom. Likely this won’t be the first time his smart mouth will get him in trouble at this school, Rafe thought sulkily.

They navigated through a maze of corridors and intersections and then finally the professor let go of Rafe’s forearm. He was rubbing his palm over one specifically tender spot when another door had been unlocked. “Inside. Now.” Consistent, aloof tone indicated continued anger.

Rafe swallowed thickly, complying before more points were docked from his House. When he went in, torches lining the walls had come to life, alight with flames. It wasn’t a spacious room, he noted with healthy dosage of interest and nosiness, despite fear of the unknown plaguing him. A simple bookcase stood imposingly in one corner and in the middle was positioned a simple, age – worn mahogany table and two chairs, though the one meant for visitors looked very, very uncomfortable and rickety.

His eyes centered on fireplace with a clever snake motif woven into the mantelpiece. Rafe knew why they were here. It was remote enough so no one would interrupt and no one would dare trespass into Head of Slytherin’s office unannounced.

Whom is he going to fire call? That old man, Dumbysomething? Would he even care about solving somewhat domestic dispute between a staff member and transfer student?  

Professor Snape strode past him and he picked up a jar from the mantel. He tossed some floo powder inside the flames. “Re – Lupin! I need a word with you! Don’t you dare ignore me! Raphael is with me.”

Utterly puzzled by this turn of events, Rafe gawked at the flames. A familiar silhouette was suddenly spinning in the licking orange fire. A few seconds later, Rafe’s dad was clambering out the hearth, brushing some soot off his shoulders. Rafe didn’t know who looked more livid between the two men. He was shocked when professor Snape – his other father had unpacked quite a onslaught of yells and heated gestures, getting in dad’s face so close that their noses touched. Rafe blinked several times in effort to catch on what was happening. Were they having a squabble, over him? Like in those awful muggle telenovelas where one parent blames the other for divorce and raising the kids wrong?

“Your son has been extremely disrespectful and disruptive in my class! I didn’t think you’d know any manners, much less know how to pass them along, but with your disregard for safety it’s to be expected. Questioning my authority with dangerous lack of care, no accountability for rules, just because he claims to be a genius. That’s unacceptable. And then, what he said about – how could you tell anyone of my secret?”

Rafe watched with gnawing fear how his dad’s control was slipping; his eyes glowed with gold and amber as he pushed the other man away. Staggering, he regained balance as he held onto the edge of chair, glowering severely.

“That’s rich and amusing, coming from you Snape. Your pitiable secret paled in comparison with mine, which you had uttered in full attendance of guests at your Death Eaters pals turgid party. I’ve only ever told my son, because he wanted to know the wanker who abandoned me. Raphael has the right to know and believe me, he knows everything about you; at least information you’ve deigned to share with me at that time. Moreover, respect should be earned. Much to my endless vexation, I’ve found out that he really is a prodigy when it comes to brewing potions and I expect you give him some creative freedom –“  

“Raphael was being a danger to other students! What if he blew up the whole classroom?! I have other students to look after too, Re - Lupin."

“Do I need to talk with Dumbledore? He keeps you on a long leash; maybe it’s time it was shortened. Your foul temperament won’t impede my son’s education, Snape.”

“If anyone’s on a leash, it’s you, Lupin. You’re Ministry’s latest pet project,” he retorted contemptuously.

“Says Dumbledore’s lapdog. I know he saved you from serving time in Azkaban. You’re a coward that can’t live up to your own depravity, you find excuses for mistreating other people who allegedly matter to you. You actually disgust me. Between the two of us, you’ll be always the one who’s a monster, Snape. I’m not stifling my hideous animalistic side anymore and I had come to accept it. But you, you are still in denial about yourself. I don’t care what anyone says. Reformed Death Eater or not, you’ve made your decision. Your precious Dark Lord and his band of loyal slavers are dead or imprisoned, so you had to find another powerful patron to hide behind. You’re nothing but a scared, cowardly bully who thinks he deserved better from the world. You’ve ruined my peaceful life, condemned me to flee like a wanted convict. You’ve broken my heart, ruined my family name and my parents died because of you. You’re a murderer. I become a monster once a month while you’re monstrous all the damn fucking time,” his dad finished monologuing, threateningly drawing closer until they were chest to chest, on same eye level again. Scorching inferno and glacial hoarfrost glinted from their eyes as they glowered at one another, abhorrence and betrayal rousing this wholly unanticipated (on Rafe’s part at least) quarrel.

“Say that again Lupin. I. Dare. You.” The last three words came out as growls of dissent and Rafe was slowly backing away, toward the exit. Dad could take care of himself (he’s a bloody werewolf with lightning speed reflexes and super strength for god’s sake) and Rafe really didn’t want to know whether this thick tension in the air was sexually charged or he was imagining things.

To think he wanted to give the other father a fair warning about staying away from his family members and now, Rafe was witnessing something happening with primal urgency of a predator stalking its prey. Their wands were drawn and both men were breathing heavily, like they’ve just finished a long run. The initial conflict was long forgotten and Rafe’s presence along with it. He grimaced as red and blue sparks spurted from the tips of their wands.

Well, shit. He should stop them, before one of them or both of them, realistically speaking get hurt. Rafe made but one step forward when his dad glanced at him and Rafe recognized the wolfish side has come out to play. His eyes shone with golden and ocher undertones. “Go back to your class, Rafe. This will be over soon,” the gravelly tone left no room for debate. He threw one last look at them and Rafe made up his mind. He spun around and he left them alone to sort it out between themselves. Dad wouldn’t go as far as to murder anyone, he was still in control of his faculties, of full control over his rational, human mind.

He hurried through empty corridors, in a hurry to put some distance between the professor’s office and himself. Sweet Merlin, if he stayed in there just a second longer he would have died (or come close to it) from secondhand embarrassment.

Predictably, he lost his way around the dungeons as this was his first time here in the bowels of castle. Rafe had to rely on his faint memory when he was being dragged by professor Snape through darkened, claustrophobic passages to find his way back to Potions classroom.

Rafe was surprised by the stillness on the other side of door. Did everyone leave or were they so afraid of professor Snape’s threat?  He opened the door and peeked in. Everyone was still in, manning their stations, quiet as church mice. He shuffled inside, leaving the door open so they’d hear anyone approaching. Rafe went back to his station, deflecting questions from his roommates and girls with a ‘hmm’ sound and shrugs. His mixture bubbling in the cauldron was still salvageable.

Every now and then he glanced up from his lilac colored anti – toxin tonic. He wondered if his parents were having sex at this very moment or they were fighting. No, he didn’t need those mental images inside his head! Rafe bodily jolt in revulsion, shaking his head. No kids, correction no teenage kids want to have such pictures of people who brought them into this world stuck in their heads! Rafe could do without graphic images of his dad and other father canoodling in that stuffy office.

When everyone was done, they had ladled their creations inside vials, labeled them and left the pile on the teacher’s table.

Professor Snape didn’t come back. A bit worried (though not for his dad’s safety as he’s a powerful wizard) Rafe and his friends had exited the Potions classroom, trekking back to more populated areas of castle.

When Rafe left them alone, Remus leveled his wand the other man’s chest. Severus had put his wand away and Remus coldly glared back. The wolfish side drew back after the conflict had so quickly deescalated.

“Remus, I don’t want to be angry at you or Raphael. I don’t wish to hurt you, more than I already have. All the things I’ve done were for you, to keep you safe. I’ll address each grievance and I won’t shirk responsibility for my actions. I was a foolish youth, reeled in by the dark lord’s promise of elevating his devotees to a higher, noble purpose. I’ve committed so many crimes in his name, but I’ve never partaken in arson or murders. In fact, when your childhood home was attacked, I was receiving the Dark Mark. Lucius took me to see him. You were my task, my way into the elite ranks of a revolutionary, political movement. Little did I know the dark lord had a taste for genocide. Anyone who stood in his way had to die, whether they were purebloods, of mixed heritage like you and I or muggleborn, he made no exceptions. Within a year many of our former classmates and upperclassmen died. Fabian and Gideon Prewetts, Marlene McKinnon to name a few. You were either fully committed to the genocidal angle and conformed to his twisted ideals or you wound up dead. Regulus Black took the Mark a day after I received mine; he was dead within a year. His body was never found. After he died people like Lucius were becoming wary as dark lord never acknowledged the younger Black’s existence nor mysterious death circumstances.”

“You’re saying those names as if they mean something to me. Everyone you mentioned and died was there that night. I saw them, looking vaguely concerned, but clearly not enough to stand up for me. Since I wasn’t important enough for them to tarnish their perfect reputations, they’re not worthy of my empathy either. But that’s enough talk of the dead. You keep on saying that I was your task, Snape. That’s two years. Two whole fucking years of deceit and false love. What makes you think I’ll ever forgive you? You keep shifting blame for your despicable actions on others, but if you can’t own up to your sins, I’ll just have to beat that confession out of you!” Remus lashed out, snarling like a wounded beast as his unoccupied, free balled up fist collided with Severus’ nose. Involuntarily, the dark eyes filled with tears as the impact was that strong.

The man winced and grunted as warm trickle of red gushed out and down his face, bloodying the front of his robes and white collar that was now coated with viscous, dark blood. “Remus –“

“Don’t you ‘Remus’ me, Snape! You had drugged my potion and don’t you dare deny that fact! My parents are dead and Rafe will never get to know them, thanks to you!!”

Severus stood there silently, wondering where he erred so much that now he was practically cast in the role of a lying, backstabbing scoundrel. “Remus, I swear on my honor that I had never added anything to your Wolfsbane Potion. I was working together with Belby on perfecting it, tailoring the formula so it would work for all lycathropes. Many werewolves reported unsavory side effects like allergic reactions or getting more aggressive outside of a full moon. I didn’t know you were pregnant, you should have told me Remus. If you did, I would have found another, less radical way to make you leave Britain. I also wanted to make you aware about those louts you called friends. I had strong suspicion that Black or Pettigrew got a personal assignment from dark lord to spy and report back anything useful. I wanted you away from them and when you left, I stood corrected; Black was a spy all along. You were just a convenient scapegoat,” he spoke in a mellow tone, tuning out humiliating pain of having his nose broken.

Severus could have healed his nose if he wanted, but he felt like if he raised his wand, it would be perceived as potential threat and Remus could react badly.

“I can prove everything that I’ve said is the truth. Dumbledore has a pensieve. I can show you my memories –“

“Are you truly so wretched and desperate to get laid, Snape? Do you think me so weak I would fall back into your bed so you could fuck me and toss me out on my ass, again? And before that, are you even truly sorry for everything? Are you capable of feeling remorse?” Remus cut him off, icily retorting a string of acerbic comments. Severus sniffled as snot and blood had clogged up his nose so much he had to switch to breathing through his mouth.

Was there a sure way to make Remus forgive him? Severus wasn’t above pitching his useless pride into the fire (metaphorically) and kissing Remus’ shoes in reverence, kneeling at his feet like a mongrel dog.

Abandoning all sense of dignity, he was slowly bending down. “What are you doing?” The inquisitive question laced with spite hung in the air as Severus was now on his knees, on the cold, hard stone floor. He swallowed a lump in his throat, then he prostrated in front of Remus who, judging by the sharp intake of breath was astonished. Almost reverently, Severus crawled closer until he saw a pair of shoes in. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought as he stuck out his tongue, but Remus stepped away.

Severus chanced a glance at his face, though he stayed down on all fours, half - way kneeling. Remus was furious, disgusted, but he also saw a flicker of pity on his scarred, beautiful face.

He has snubbed out the budding outrage in his chest, because how dare Remus pity him when he’s literally sunk so low his robes and clothes are gathering up ages of unswept dust. Severus was even thinking of doing something so beneath him just to make the hostile man looming above him accept him back into his and their son’s lives.

Severus looked up at him, pleading guilty and innocent, parallel to one another. “I am truly and deeply sorry, Remus. Even best intentions can lead to catastrophic consequences. I apologize.” He bowed his head in deference, completing the picture of repentant sinner.

Remus above him had crossed his bulging, muscular arms over his broad chest. “For which of your many sins are you apologizing, Snape? For killing my parents, destroying my life, turning everyone against me or for breaking my heart?” Severus blanched as his gaze caught on the ferocity in Remus’ eyes, on that raw, unfiltered scorn.

Can he dare hope that Remus will call him by his given name?

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry,” he repeated, holding Remus’ gaze. For a long while, neither of them spoke, only stared and stared some more until at last Severus’ shins and knees were numb from sitting on them for so long. And then, he saw it. The first minuscule chink in his armor. His expression softened, erasing that frigid, condescending scowl from Remus’ face.

“This is a waste of time,” he stated impassively, turning up his nose at Severus whose eyes widened in panic. Remus was going to leave, he had to stop him somehow. Severus threw himself at his feet, holding him in place. Remus growled, warningly at first as he tried to shake him off, but he wouldn’t back off. Ignoring the painful ache of his sore legs, Severus rose up on his own two feet, holding onto the warm, stiff body.

A bit too stiff in some parts. Severus felt it, that arousal digging into his left hipbone. Could it be? Was Remus turned on by the sight of seeing him on his knees, begging for clemency?

Before he made up his mind to grind his hips provocatively or just do anything, Remus had made the decision for him. Like he was burned, he retreated. Severus’ dark eyes kept flitting between Remus’ pale, slightly green face and the prominent bulge trapped in those form – hugging pants.

His face distorted, forming into a livid glare. “Don’t touch me!” He roared, fuming and Severus bit his tongue to prevent himself from reacting poorly. He can’t afford to fall back into his (harmful) defensive mechanism of being passive – aggressive and sarcastic, unlikable.

It felt like he was trying to calm a feral animal. Two steps forward, one step back with the Lupins. None were quite ready to accept and forgive him, but Severus was nothing but patient. This was only second week since Remus came back with their son and Poppy. He had all the time in the world. The sense of urgency that grasped his heart in a vice hold earlier was shrinking.

He guessed Remus was horrified that his body had betrayed him as the old attraction was still there, hidden underneath the veneer of enmity. “I apologize and you should know that I’m still in love with you. I never stopped loving you, Remus. I won’t give up.”

Remus humphed and turned his back on Severus. He walked to the door. With hand on the handle, Remus spoke in a freezing, voice. “You’ll give Rafe creative freedom in Potions class or I’ll find him a tutor outside of Hogwarts,” he barked, going out of Severus’ office with inhuman alacrity. The shut door banged and the sound bounced off the walls.

When he couldn’t hear Remus’ heavy footed steps echoing in the hallway, Severus sauntered toward his chair behind the mahogany table. He dropped, too exhausted emotionally after the harrowing row with Remus. It was a good thing Raphael hasn’t witnessed the rest of that disagreement, he mused. Severus healed his broken, leaking nose and eliminated all evidence of being in a (one – sided) fistfight with good old Episkey and couple of Tergeo charms.

Severus needed help. Outside help from an old friend. Someone crafty, but discreet. Someone who knew of his real feelings toward Remus and would be willing to help him.

Fortunately, he knew just the guy who’d hear him out and possibly offer more ideas on how to woo Remus and make his son and Poppy like him.

He grabbed a blank parchment from the table drawer, inkwell and quill. He started his penned letter off with a greeting and only at the end had Severus revealed his need of a friend who’d give him advice. Severus smirked, rolling up and sealing his missive with a thin strip of green ribbon.

If anyone knew how to butter up people, it was his oldest friend Lucius.

With purpose, he strode out of his office, not even bothering to check on his third years batch of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs since the class had long ended. He’ll check it later, after he sends an urgent letter to Malfoy Manor.

Chapter Text

He glowered at his shot glass of the most vile thing he could subject himself to and that was moonshine. It burned his throat and numbed his senses, but it was fine. He could let his guard down in front of the two smirking assholes he liked.

Severus downed yet another shot of the acrid clear liquor and he shuddered, making a face at the offending empty shot glass like it has slighted him. Narcissa peered at him questioningly as she was leaning against the smooth granite surface with her elbow used as prop for her head. She sat at the stool next to mildly inebriated Severus. Lucius manned the overstocked bar in their spacious kitchen. No house elves were nearby as they were sent away to attend to other wings of manor, so that they’d have some privacy.

“So, let me get this straight, Severus. Your ex still holds a deep grudge, his godmother hates your guts and your teenage son is a prodigal, sassier version of yourself when you were younger. Oh and he even looks like you, except his eyes are brown, just like his other father’s. On top of that, you’re telling me your son is steadfast set on ignoring young Mr. Potter while he has befriended Draco. I wouldn’t have believed you if we didn’t receive a very detailed letter about the Lupins dramatic arrival. Draco kept us informed about the unfolding situation. Pardon me for saying this, but you’re got your hands full, my friend. I wish you good luck changing their minds.” Lucius’ biting, sarcastic (and quite caustic) comment was exactly what he expected. He should have known better to expect sympathy from the likes of Narcissa and Lucius.

Still, they were his (only) friends and he needed to get his mind off things, at least for one night. Getting plastered on high quality, albeit disgusting alcohol wasn’t going to help him solve his problems, but at least the booze took care of his overly rational part of brain.

Severus raised his head slightly to glare at relaxed Lucius, who leaned with his elbows on the counter top, eyeballing Severus’ dismayed expression from up close. “Regarding my help you asked for in that impersonal letter, am I right to assume you came to me in hopes that I might aid you in your noble quest of improving your familial life?

He huffed out an annoyed breath. His hand glided toward the half empty bottle of hootch, but before he could grab it, Narcissa had pushed the bottle further away from him with the back of her hand. “You’ve had enough,” she retorted, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrow at the utterly sloshed man, who scowled.

“Not nearly enough if I can still talk without slurring my speech,” Severus sharply retorted as he shifted his weight on the stool, reaching toward bottle filled with that nasty liquid. Lucius had spelled it to fly back to the widespread liquor cabinet wandlessly, way out of Severus’ tipsy reach.

Lucius sneered at him. “Do I need to remind you what happened last time you got drunk?”

Severus sighed, straightening his sore back. His spine felt like it was concocted out of steel and his legs felt like they were cast from iron. His alcohol tolerance had always been laughable, but for the last five years it has gotten worse. So much that when he came here to get wasted, it was done as a form of punishment for his past sins. Needless to say, it was highly unpleasant experience and Severus never took any potions to cancel out the effects nor dispel the head – throbbing headache that accompanied a hangover.

Narcissa gazed at him with pondering eyes. “I am not mixing you another potion for fixing your liver, Severus. You will either drink with moderation or not at all. There is a limit to how many times I can pull you from death’s door. It’s time you stopped punishing yourself. Remus is back. Moreover he brought an unexpected result of your liaison with him. Stop dwelling on your mistakes and fix them.”

Severus had looked at Narcissa with impatience, hurt and despair. “Why do you think I’ve come to you? I have tried explaining my actions to him and I even offered my memories for viewing, but Remus had turned down that idea. But, not all hope is lost. When I knelt down and I almost licked his shoes –“

“Kinky,” Lucius commented offhandedly and Severus shot him an angry stare for interrupting before he resumed with his retelling of events that happened in his office. “As I was saying, when I knelt down I could swear Remus was unnerved by me. When we touched, I could tell he’s still got feelings for me; or at least he is still attracted to me.”

“How come? You two parted on less than amiable terms. Is there something else you’re not telling us I wonder. What exactly happened when you and your ex were alone in your office?” Narcissa asked, keeping her eyes on him as her lips curled into a suggestive grin.

Severus had glared at the woman sitting close to him. “Do I have to be so crude and say it? Alright, then. Remus was hard as a rock, he hoisted the mainsail, his soldier was saluting me, he was erect, aroused –“

Lucius snorted loudly, suspending Severus’ impassioned spiel. “Severus, I think we got the idea so unless you want to tell my wife and I about your ex boyfriend’s exact dick length and thickness I’m sure we can skip ahead. You seek advice, am I right?”

“I’m forced to seek counsel as I’m at my wits end. What should I do?”

“First off, do you think there is even a tiny sliver of hope Remus will forgive you?” Lucius posed the question which haunted Severus’ conscience for thirteen years.

If he evaluated their most recent interaction, then he’d say there was a chance that Remus will forgive him and once he does, Remus’ godmother and Rafe will follow his lead.

“Yes, I hope someday soon Remus and I will reignite that spark. I – I want him. I want to watch over Raphael and get to know him. I want Poppy to respect me again, like she did when Remus and I were dating. I want the Lupins to be my family.” Severus tentatively shared his most secret wish with his friends, wondering whether that moonshine wasn’t spiked with a low rate Veritaserum –

Severus shot up to his feet as realization struck him. It was so absurdly simple! To think he racked his brain so hard for solutions when the key to solving his dilemma was safely stashed in his bedroom.

No elaborate schemes were needed. He’s the bloody Potions Master, why didn’t he think of using potions to even the odds in his favor sooner?

“I need to go. Now. I have to make some arrangements. Can I use your Floo?” Severus turned his head to look at Lucius who gestured at the door left ajar. “Of course. Judging by your manic expression I assume you’ve figured out how to approach him, Severus?”

“Yes, I believe I have solved my conundrum. Thank you for having me over, but I must be going,” Severus bowed his head as he stalked past stumped Narcissa and worried Lucius. He felt their eyes on him as he made his hasty exit and his favorite cloak billowed dramatically in his wake.

“Do we think he’s going to succeed?” Narcissa’s skepticism was warranted, for their son told them how the new DADA professor was even more disliked and feared than their friend. Chances were Severus would come back soon to nurse his broken heart and find more brilliant answers at the bottom of a bottle of moonshine.

“Let’s hope he does, otherwise you and I will have to hide all the booze, again.” Lucius calmly reacted, rinsing and wiping the glasses dry with a towel. Narcissa hummed, as she traced the rim of her glass with a manicured finger, lost in her thoughts.

The following day Severus was too nervous, so he didn’t scowl or shoot disapproving looks at students who displeased him. When he didn’t deduce points from Gryffindor for the day, Minerva had pulled him aside and she had the gall to ask him if he was quite feeling well!

He walked away from the smirking witch, choosing to flee from that minor embarrassment with a fraction of dignity intact. Severus retreated to his rooms in the chilled dungeon. He shed off his cloak. He hung it on the coat hanger. He plodded in, casually striding toward the coffee table in the main, biggest area which acted as a living room combined with a small kitchenette. The vial with clear liquid was exactly where he left it this morning, when he departed from his personal quarters to teach classes for the day.

Severus took a seat on the sofa, pondering if he really wanted to be vulnerable and exposed, all of his masks stripped. He thought about all the possible ways his idea can go wrong. Remus could just throw him out on his ass (he wouldn’t blame him if he did) or he could get physical (and not in the way Severus would have preferred) and attack him, which again would be justified since Severus knew he wasn’t welcome anywhere near Remus in public spaces, much less in his private residence on the upper faculty level of Hogwarts.

He ran fingers through his hair as his instincts battled with his conscience. Bad, bad choices led him to this instance in life when he had to choose what was more important – his pride or the family he let down.

Severus’ dark eyes settled on the vial of the strongest truth potion variant he worked on perfecting as a side project. It was brewed three years ago before Quirrell and Lockhart’s time as professors of the cursed Defense Against Dark Arts position. In that moment, he decided to do what he had to.

Whatever happens next is entirely up to Remus’ discretion.

Four hours later, Severus awkwardly hung around the corridor of the DADA teacher’s accommodation, psyching himself before he ventured in further. He had skipped dinner because he knew Remus had his meals brought to his quarters.

He knew Remus was inside, presumably eating his meal brought by a house elf. Waiting around wondering if this was such a bright idea after all wasn’t very conductive, so Severus crossed the distance. He gripped the small vial in his hand as he raised his wand and he cast Alohomora nonverbally. The faint click supported his theory that Remus kept his door locked; he expected nothing less of him. Each teacher guarded his or her privacy like a jealous lover would.

Before he could change his mind, Severus had walked right in and he shut the door with a very loud click and even louder cry of possibly never oiled hinges. Curse these old doors and hinges!

Well, there went the element of surprise. Severus nonverbally cast Colloportus and then he plastered on silencing charms for good measure, in case Remus got a bit too vocal. He didn’t want anyone listening in on them. 

Whirling around, he was prepared to meet and match Remus’ irritation. His eyes found the man sprawled on the couch, reading. Empty plate sat on the low coffee table, similar to the one in Severus’ own rooms in the dungeons.

Severus had managed to read the name of the book (Kokoro by Natsume Sōseki) before Remus had looked at him and he set the book on the couch. His previously relaxed posture had stiffened and he adjusted his position, throwing a dirty glare at him. Severus stared back as he realized that Remus wore a simple white shirt with rolled up sleeves all the way to the elbows (which was completely unbuttoned and Severus saw a nipple winking at him past the exposed expanse of Remus’ deliciously furred chest) and beige shorts.

He felt a bit less self – conscious, because Remus’ unholy obsession with color beige and all shades of brown had survived those years he lived in Brazil. Remus rose up and his body language had warned Severus to listen to his fight or fly instinct and get the hell out. But he couldn’t, not if he ever wanted to regain Remus’ trust.

Remus pushed himself away from the couch’s side and he ambled closer. The black socks weaved through air as he padded on the squeaky clean floorboards, like he was a dancer and Severus was mesmerized by the grace of that confident stride. He stopped only a few millimeters shy of their noses touching and Severus swallowed thickly as he drunk in their closeness. Remus had accusingly stuck his index finger in Severus’ (overly clothed) chest and since they were more or less of same height, he gazed evenly into the beautiful brown eyes, which flared up with annoyance.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing here, Snape? Breaking and entering is your next checkmark of crimes to commit on your bucket list?”

Severus wanted to kiss him and get reacquainted with Remus’ sensitive spots, like his navel, underside of his knees and the small space between his shoulder blades. He wanted to retrace that skin with his tongue and teeth. Sometime soon he will get to do that, Severus mused with no small amount of self – restraint to not let his eyes wander lower than Remus’ chin.

“I know how I’m going to make you believe in me again, Remus. This,” he dangled the tiny vial in his hand and then he unstoppered the stopper and he knocked back a carefully measured sip. “will convince you of my motivations. I’ve nothing to hide from you, Remus. For approximately fitteen minutes, I will tell you anything you want to ask of me. But preferably I would like to tell you about that night of the alumni party and my poor decision in joining a veritable cult with a crazy genocidal maniac at the forefront. I’m not blameless as I had joined out of my free will and Death Eaters had a use of my abilities. It was a catastrophically bad decision made by a eighteen year old immature brat who thought genocide is the answer to the problems of world. I was naïve and I blinded myself to the truth just so I could carry on. But I’m only human and humans make mistakes. If I could change the past without facing repercussions and possibly serving time in Azkaban for meddling with time, I would have stolen a time turner ages ago. I’m here now and I am compelled to tell you my true feelings on any topics you’d want to ask of me.”

Remus’ eyes shined in the yellow light of flames as his expression changed from cautious to openly hostile. “Even allegedly on truth potion you’re still a judgmental, bigoted bastard. Yes, I’m not human, Snape. What else is new besides your pathetic insults and digs at my cursed nature. If you’re done harassing me, you can see yourself out.”

Severus blanched, closing his hand around Remus’ wrist when it was clear he was going to keep distance from him. “Wait! I didn’t mean it to sound like I’m disparaging you. I’ve taken this strong dosage to convince you where my true loyalties lie – with you. I’ve let you down, created a situation when you had to flee the country, but everything was done to save you.”

The wild glint in Remus’ brown eyes as he openly bristled was frankly distressing and when Remus closed his free hand atop Severus’ hand which still held him in place, Severus felt like he was trapped now.

Unnaturally strong grasp clasping around his arm made him shudder. “So you keep saying, like a broken record. I don’t trust you, Snape.”

Severus knew Remus would be argumentative, that he’d switch to aggressive mode. “Then drink some of the truth potion and I’ll ask you something about your past only you should know between the two of us.”

Remus cocked his head, furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “Why would I do that?” He asked incredulously like Severus suggested he cut off his limbs or something equally ludicrous.

“Because I’m not going anywhere Remus. I want to make amends and I want to be with you, without any falsehoods or wrong preconceptions,” Severus replied truthfully. Remus let out a barking sound of dissent. “You think a simple truth potion will make everything alright again?!”

Severus shook his head and he felt Remus’ rage growing stronger in the form of his tightened grip on arm. “No, but it will be a first step toward healing and moving forward. I am serious about this, Remus. One more time. Just trust me one more time.”

Remus yanked his arm and Severus was more or less propelled right into collision with the other man’s chest. “Is that potion spiked with poison? Better yet, is that really Veritaserum or just plain water?” He growled the question past his grit teeth and Severus scoffed, mildly affronted by the accusation made. “I swear it’s legitimate Veritaserum from my own personal stash. I brewed it before the time last two of your incompetent predecessors had held your job.”

“We shall see, Snape. By slightest indication of treachery, your life is forfeit.”

He affirmed Remus’ threat (on which he could deliver with ease as lycanthropy lent him abnormal strength) with a simple nod. Remus wrenched the vial from him and he raised it up to appraise the contents.

There wasn’t much left of it, only enough for one sip. Overdosing on truth serums and potions was not recommended, for it could damage all relationships the drinker had maintained.

Truth had much like everything else of great importance two sides of the same coin. It could hurt and it could liberate. It could destroy as well as mend. Severus was hoping for the latter.

With scrunched up face in concentration, Remus had raised the vial to his lips and Severus’ addled brain had cheerfully supplied him with the notion he shared an indirect kiss with his former boyfriend, hopefully soon to be boyfriend again.

After it was emptied, Remus flung the vial on the sofa where it landed safely without breaking. Remus had let go of his arm and in turn Severus did the same, letting go of his wrist. Remus started pacing.

Some people had uncanny reactions to potions which forced the drinker to act in a certain way. Remus was irritated, pacing around with visibly frustration. After minute of that fruitless back and forth, Remus had glanced at him. “Ask your obtuse questions if you must. I don’t like this intrusive feeling in my head,” Remus admitted as he resumed his restless pacing.

Severus had prepared some questions, knowing Remus would need proof of the legitimacy of Veritaserum before he could crack down on questioning him genuinely. “I’ve been told that Castelobruxo is the most unique school in our world because the staff is mostly comprised of magical beings and creatures. I want to know the names of your non - human colleagues and their respective races.”

Remus fixed him with a wound up expression, but he answered nonetheless, the potion made him divulge the truth, whether he wanted or not. “The other cursed guy is a vampire, his name is Hakan. Fibiol is a goblin. Orousa’s a centaur and Sophia is a veela,” he spat out their names and what they were. Remus’ expression implied he was convinced he drank actual truth potion. One needn’t be a Legilimens to work that out.

“Well? I’m waiting. It’s your turn to ask. Don’t hold back.” Severus hoped his voice exuded confidence, because on the inside he felt as anxious and maladroit as a newborn fawn, struggling to stand on gangly long legs.

“I doubt it will make a difference, but tell me your version of that skewed night of alumni party.”

Severus answered almost instantaneously as the potion had compelled him to be open and cooperative. “I knew the dark lord was growing impatient about my lack of substantial reports on the situation about the Order and their plans. He would go after you sooner or later and I was too afraid he’d ask me to torture you for his twisted cause or worse, order me to kill you with my own hands. Which is also the time when I discerned your friends distrust toward you and I learned of their sneaking suspicions through a few simple shallow Legilimency reads. Potter and Black were cautious around you, but that slovenly Pettigrew was afraid and he thought of running away multiple times, but he stayed and I was determined to find out what made him stay despite the illogical fear that filled his thoughts. He and Black had unfortunately caught on that I knew more than I let on because Lily told them I’m a Legilimens. I stopped prying into their minds because then I would seem too suspicious –“

“Get to the fucking point!”

Severus glowered. “This is all important, Remus. Do not interrupt me,” he bit out a reply in a clipped tone. Remus stopped to glower back. “Right then. It would seem too suspicious, so I switched tactics to simply observe them. Meanwhile, their estrangement from you grew over time. Then, five nights before the party I got clued in into dark lord’s plans. He wanted to eliminate everyone in our generation not aligned or loyal to him. I wanted to warn you about your friends, but I knew you would never believe me without providing ample proof about their duplicity. I was running out of time, so I asked my friends – the Malfoys for help. They grew discontent with that madman’s plan of eradicating muggles. Because, after he succeeded in that who’d be next? Muggleborns and halfbloods? Then, after he exhausted their numbers, purebloods not aligned with his self interests would be marked for slaughter.”

“Keep it short,” Remus remarked matter-of-factly.

Severus resumed as if the prickly man didn’t say anything. “Lucius and Narcissa helped me invite everyone we knew and everyone who could spread the tale further. I had exposed your secret; I’m not disputing that fact. I betrayed your trust, but I never betrayed you, Remus. I made you aware of duplicitous, fraudulent company you kept. I assumed Lily would follow the lead of her husband and she had abandoned you, too. As you were leaving, I thought you’d be safer outside of Great Britain, even if you would hate me forever I decided it was worth it. You’d be angry, bitter and disappointed, but you’d be alive. Then, I was summoned by that psychopath to receive that hideous skull tattoo. Lucius took me to meet him. At the same time the Dark Mark was fusing with my skin and magic, that demented bitch went to your parents’ with a selection of likewise minded individuals. They were initiating some new members and that was their test. After the arsonists were done, they conjured the sign of Dark Mark on night sky. Lestrange bragged about that ‘purification’ and the new novice members of Death Eater extremist cult had received new, secret orders. A few months after you left, Rosier and Black’s younger brother died. Then, the Potters and Pettigrew died, betrayed by Black who must have been an excellent actor because I wouldn’t have guessed he was so sick in the head. I was suspicious of Pettigrew to be the turncoat, but he was brutally murdered by Black and he was deported to Azkaban. He had been there until recently. I think I exhausted that question. Do you have more questions you want me to address? We have less than six minutes left, according to the clock hanging on that far wall.”

“You really weren’t there when my parents burned alive in their own home? But you told your associates where to find them,” Remus spoke in a low voice, trampling over to troubled Severus’ side. Severus knew this was important to him. Severus liked Lyall and Hope. They treated him like he was their own son, especially Hope fussed over him and made him eat more. He would never willingly expose location of their quaint cottage of his free will. “I didn’t sell them out, Remus. I was ‘coerced’ when the dark lord performed one of his monthly mind sweeps on members and promising recruits. Everyone was subjected to that, even most devoted crazies like the Lestranges and foreigners like Dolohov. He found out many things, including my growing fondness of you at that time. You do remember when I said you were my assignment, right? That was before you stopped being my assignment and started being more. I had fallen for you, Remus and I was afraid. Not for me, but for you. You were surrounded by people who only wanted to use you; I’m ashamed to admit I numbered among them, until things between us really took off and I was growing fond of you.” Severus cleared his throat as it felt like he swallowed sandpaper, which connoted how uncomfortable that really felt.

He trundled over to the sink, where he grabbed a glass and turned on the faucet briefly to pour himself a drink of water. Severus filled up the glass with water and he leaned on the kitchen counter. He didn’t drink yet though, he knew Remus had one more very important question lined up and he also knew the effects of Veritaserum would wear off soon. Remus had walked to the sofa and he plopped down on the aged, yet soft piece of furniture. He craned his neck to look at him. “Did you do something to the Wolfsbane Potion? Did you use me for your heir making purposes? Because I was easy to fool? I knew you wanted an heir, badly. So I ask you now; did you use me to be your baby – making machine?”

“No. I didn’t know, I just assumed you had a very bad stomach bug. I thought your vomiting, nausea and not being able to hold down food was the experimental potion’s fault. You knew about my research on Wolfsbane Potion with Belby. He and I had our own volunteers. One each - our lovers. Belby’s girlfriend and you, Remus were taking it every month and we observed your conditions and we were on the lookout for any side effects we had yet to recognize. It was still in very early stages of experimentation and we had adjusted the formula at the start of that year, to see and feel for your reactions to the altered Wolfsbane Potion. Rachel showed no negative results, so I assumed the formula was too strong for you, so I urged Belby to lower the dosage. But it was too late, wasn’t it? The Wolfsbane Potion had an undiscovered side effect after all. Your body had to accommodate and make room for new organs and since you were prone to be a bit sickly I didn’t think much of it when you took some extra muggle painkillers. Your libido increased and I was happy to sleep with you so often despite our different daily schedules. I didn’t think much about it at that time, but all the signs were there. I was so, so blind, Remus. Your hormonal levels were messing with your metabolism. Your male body had to adapt to being pregnant. Remus, I am sorry you had to go through so much hardship on your own. I assure you if I knew you were expecting, I would have found another way.” Severus pushed himself off the kitchen counter, taking on a huge risk at approaching Remus, seated on the sofa.

His expression was indescribably bland as Severus had stopped about twenty or so centimeters away from him. Severus knelt down, gingerly watching for a change in Remus’ expression. He sat down close on the sofa (the sprigs protested under their combined weight), but not too close, giving him room to decide whether he wanted to stay or get up.

Severus touched his left hand and when Remus didn’t jerk away from his touch, he grew bolder and he stroked the side of Remus’ cheek. Instantly, it felt like they were transported back in time. Two twenty year old men sitting together on a sofa in their tiny apartment’s living room. He blinked and the illusion wore off; they were in their early thirties and this was a teacher’s private room at Hogwarts.

Remus’ eyes pinned him with many unsaid emotions. Severus always thought his eyes were pretty, so expressive and animated. “Why did you choose me? Did you love me before Voldemort assigned you to get close to Mar – to our group?” He asked, voice quavering. “At first when I was given choice between your traitorous friends and you I was appalled because you seemed to be the safest option. You never stood up for me when those public annoyances bullied me and I was so spiteful, because how dare you keep your precious friendships at the cost of your morality. I knew you never agreed with them, but you couldn’t afford to cross them. Potter and Black were vicious, snappy abusive children occupying older bodies. Pettigrew was a cowardly individual who took to idolizing the wrong sort of people. He paid for that mistake with his life. Regarding your other question, Remus I didn’t love you back then when we were still in seventh year. But, when school was over and we had moved in together, everything changed. We had apprenticeships and on top of that, I spied for that man. However, propinquity had changed everything. I was falling for you and when I knew I was in love, I had no choice but to manipulate you into sending you away before you were detained and imprisoned by my former associates for questioning. Before you ask, Remus why I didn’t simply tell you the truth and suggested you run away with me, I couldn’t do that because then we’d be hunted. Both of us, for the rest of our lives until one day our luck ran out. We would always live in fear and uncertainty as that psychopath and his followers didn’t suffer deserters. Why do you think Black’s brother died? He tried to break off from Death Eaters. Chasing you off in disgrace was the only solution that I could come up with, at that time.”

Severus inspected Remus’ vacant, far – away expression as his potion – stained fingertips brushed over the prominent scars with tenderness. “Do you still love me?” Remus inquired quietly, his tone was gravelly and burdened.

His throat closed up painfully as Severus understood no words would convey his feelings. The nagging urge to speak the truth was banished from his mind as their emotionally charged fifteen minutes of nothing but hurtful facts and bad decisions had been aired after long years following their fallout.

Remus was still and only his controlled breathing was a sign that Severus may have gotten through to him. He kept caressing his face for a couple more seconds and Remus had looked at him with those disarming brown eyes. 

He’s so beautiful, Severus mused.

He began leaning into Remus’ personal space and for a minuscule moment Remus recognized what was happening; he didn’t move away. Severus tilted his head so he could kiss him comfortably, without their noses constantly bumping and getting in the way.

Whose anticipation felt like something live, bouncing around happily? In that moment, it was only them in Remus’ private quarters. Two men outside of time, free of obligations and duties. Severus had kissed Remus like he couldn’t survive without it. It certainly felt so on many nights when he got drunk to dull the ache in his chest.

There would be no more of that pathetic display of vulnerability in front of Narcissa and Lucius, he had decided in that moment to reclaim what was his, starting with snogging Remus until he forgot his name.

When their tongues met and twined, it felt so good that Severus moaned. Oh. How he missed getting consumed in their continuous kisses! Remus was relentless, kissing Severus back with so much passion that his cock stirred with more than passing interested in what was happening.

Remus’ hands had buried in his lank hair and Severus grunted in assent as those talented hands worked their way further down until they settled around Severus’ lower back. Remus squeezed his ass, there was no subtle way of saying that. Severus groaned as the sensation was new – old, something he had nearly forgotten.

“Snape,” Remus bit out between frantic kisses as he kneaded Severus’s buttocks with emergent need. Severus had to physically tear himself off those honey – like sweet lips to correct him. “Not Snape; Severus. I’m yours, Remus.”

The tiny flecks of amber in his eyes accentuated sizable desire plastered on Remus’ handsome face. Remus’ desire transformed into hunger as he dove in to suckle on the malleable tongue attached to the generally acerbic Potions professor.

As if they had a whole conversation about it, both had reached downward to palm the other’s groin. Severus fumbled with the button and zipper until the zipper gave way and he reached in, past the hem of underwear. He grabbed his hot, pulsing prize firmly in his fist. Remus had just pulled out Severus’ stiff cock.

Severus bucked his hips as Remus’ touch sent searing jolts of pleasure through body. His body was too tense, too pent up to last long. Remus had jerked him off with almost animalistic, rabid motions while Severus fisted Remus’ length with languid, lazy strokes until he felt heat pool in his belly. He sped up his effort to get him off and Remus had similarly worked Severus’ cock.

Indulging in the impending release of (sexual) tension, Severus’ eyelids fluttered shut. With two desperate tugs of Remus’ fist, Severus spilled his seed, coating the man’s hand with his spunk. Remus’ moan as he came was muffled in their mouths.

He was set on making Remus unable to resist him, not after tonight. Severus gently took hold of Remus’ cum covered palm and he ignored his objecting spine as he bent down at an awkward angle. He licked a large strip of the hard, fleshy organ, enjoying the small grunts Remus made above him.

God, how he missed the feeling. Normally penises of other men didn’t do anything for him, but Remus brought out the animal in him, figuratively speaking of course. Severus nuzzled the flushed cock, rubbing it against his cheek.

“Fuck.” Remus grumbled in a low, almost purring voice. Severus glanced at his face briefly before he opened his mouth and he swallowed that pretty cock down to the root. As his face tickled the sparse pubic hair, Severus willed himself to relax his jaw. His tongue swirled over the underside, appreciatively. “Snape, wait –“

Again with that last name nonsense! He’s sucking him off and Remus is still so obstinate. Severus bobbed his head, working the modestly sized cock in his mouth. Salacious slurping and suckling noises filled the silence, which was occasionally disrupted with Remus’ licentious grunts.

“P - Pull back. I’m close,” he disclosed, positively sweating now and Severus smirked as he could taste sweet, sweet victory rounding the corner. Severus dutifully swallowed everything Remus’ cock expelled as it kept shooting bitter seed down Severus’ willing throat.

Remus must have foregone wanking for ages if the volume and viscosity of his cum was so thick. Though, at some point it proved to be too much and he pulled off, sputtering as Remus just kept on going. Severus closed his eyes just in time as his forehead (a bit of hair, too) and his nose got painted by balmy strips of cum.

When he deemed it safe to open his eyes, Remus was already tucking in his spent cock and the pulse point on his neck jumped furiously, his chest heaved as afterglow hit them like a trainwreck.

Severus had nonverbally cast cleansing charms on his face and Remus’ hand. He made himself presentable as he zipped up his black pants. Straightening his back, which cracked ominously, Severus winced. It wasn’t anything serious, but he should spend the night in his bed, resting just to be sure.

He was about to crack a joke about getting too old for weird angled blowjobs when he took a gander at the man sitting next to him. The first thing he noticed was the drooped shoulders, pinched expression. “This doesn’t change anything,” Remus murmured, his gaze was downcast.

The elation and thrill Severus felt roaring in his blood had been replaced by cold dread as the whiplash hit him where it hurt the most.

What did he mean by that? The shared truth or the sex? Both?

“Leave.”

Severus blinked back tears. “Remus, don’t do this. You know I was honest with you. I still love you.”

“I know. I need to think, to be alone,” Remus stated in a small voice so much unlike the baritone Severus knew and loved.

The air in his lungs felt like he breathed in fumes of lethal poison, so painful was the ache in his chest when Remus turned away from him. Severus forced his mutinous legs to bear and carry his weight without stumbling over his own feet like a bumbling buffoon.

He staggered toward the door and he broke through his own locking charm in a blurry flurry of shapes and objects, whispering the incantation of unlocking charm. The old door gave way and Severus glimpsed at the vague outline of Remus’ figure, hunched on the sofa, unnervingly motionless.

His biggest flaw was and always will be greed. Not the superficial, material kind; no Severus was greedy for love and recognition ever since he was a small boy. He got too lost in the moment to realize he had overstepped several boundaries. Merlin, he drugged them both and then he seduced Remus right after! Severus was appalled at his own actions, but apologizing would imply he regretted everything they’ve done, which couldn’t be further from the truth. So, he ducked his head and he darted out on the uncannily tranquil corridor.

The door was secured with a dead bolt. Remus must have manually barred it from other side. He wiped at his stinging eyes. At least the long sleeves of his attire was good for something, he thought mordantly. He should leave, before some nosy colleagues could spot him, loitering right outside Remus’ rooms, for there would be questions asked of him.

When he deemed his puffy eyes sufficiently dry, Severus kept to the shadows of poorly lit areas ahead as he made his way downstairs, into his dungeons.

It felt like he aged three decades when he made it back to his bedroom, where he fell in bed, too drained to change into a gray long nightshirt and pants, but he had kicked off his shoes and each shoe was flung somewhere. Severus burrowed his head in the pillow as the water show evidently wasn’t over.

At least no one (except himself) will witness the feared Potions Master and professor Severus Snape soaking pillows in his bed with his own tears. 

After the high tension of continual emotional stress, whatever reserves of fortitude he had were rapidly depleted and Severus’ head slumped on damp pillowcases.  

He couldn’t believe how Draco could still lie right to his face after Rafe caught him scribbling initials R.W. in the margins of his notes! On top of that, Draco was such a bad, overly suspicious liar. Rafe snagged his notes and devious smile splayed at his lips. “I wonder who has those initials. Maybe someone with red hair and blue eyes, someone whom you’re watching even now as he’s talking with his friends?” He implied and Draco’s reddened cheeks were rather incriminating and if that sudden change in complexion wasn’t suspicious on its own, the blond had lowered his head so low that he could probably substitute his chin or nose with a quill. The parchment was dry (fortunately for him), but it looked funny. Several of their classmates giggled at the sight of Draco’s precarious head placement.

“You’re imagining things. And for the last time, I do not fancy boys,” Draco hissed, snatching back his notes.  

“Draco, why do you persist in lying to yourself? It’s not like being gay will change anything. Those who love you for being yourself will stick around. Those who stop talking to you are fake friends and frankly, you’re better off without them.”

Gray eyes measured him. “I am a Malfoy, Rafe. My family’s legacy must continue. Indulging in pipe dreams could ruin me before I even graduated.” Rafe nodded, understanding from where he was coming from. But, he wasn’t about to just give up yet.  “Look, I’m not saying you have to woo him with the intention of tying the knot –“ Draco made a strangled noise, blushing harder. “- but you are interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Don’t chalk it up to my imagination. I have eyes and so do our friends. Ron’s friend took notice, too. That girl with bushy hair. Look, she’s stealing glances at us every now and then. Potter, however is too absorbed in himself to care or notice anything.”

“I can’t. Even if I hypothetically felt something other than disdain for that walking fashion disaster, I don’t exactly inspire good feelings around Gryffindors. Last year he tried to hex me after I called Granger a m- a bad word, but his broken wand backfired on him and I had laughed. Because it was expected of me. I made continuous insinuations about how poor and worthless he is since day one,” Draco said in a low voice, so only Rafe heard him.

“Draco, you’ve been predictably dull and unfriendly toward anyone not in Slytherin. But, that was before I came along. Now that I’m here I will help you get together with Ron.” Rafe offered, extending his hand across the length of the study hall table. The blond stared at him with an inexplicably hollow expression. He seemed to be thinking about it, hard. Rafe’s arm in the meantime tired a bit with Draco leaving him hanging, so Rafe lowered his whole body so he could rest his chest and head on top of wooden surface.

“How would you help me? Can you perform a mass version of memory wiping charm on whole castle so I can start anew with a clean slate?” Rafe sniggered, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively as he propped up his chin on top of his arms as he continued to peer at Draco’s embarrassed face.

“No can do, even if my parents are powerful wizards. Plus I think it would work against you in the long run. So, no tabula rasa treatment, my dear hopelessly besotted friend,” Rafe replied haughtily, watching the blush bloom darker as Draco kicked his shin under the table in retaliation for the mocking side remarks.

He sat upright and then he slanted over to rub his achy shin whilst he maintaining a wicked grin. “I suppose I had that one coming. Fine, I’ll stop poking fun at your obsession with certain redhead sitting over yonder. Let me think how I can actually help you. Hmm. I know! I can ask my dad to give you both detention and you’ll be forced to spend time together. Ron won’t suspect a thing and in the meantime you can get to know him without Potter and the girl glaring daggers at you every five seconds.” Rafe shared his idea with the Slytherin who skeptically stared at him.

“Which one?” Draco asked, deadpan.

“Which what?” Rafe countered and the blond rolled his eyes. “Which of your parents will you ask? You’re still at odds with professor Snape and professor Lupin is… difficult. He hates all students, except you.”

Rafe’s grin grew wider. “Leave that to me. So, if my gambit worked, would you be willing to give it a try?”

Draco chanced a glance at the faraway table occupied by Ron and his friends. Rafe watched his friend ogle the ginger who swore under his breath as he spilled ink on the table. Potter had moved into Ron’s personal space, throwing a hand around his back as the girl had absorbed it with a flick of her wand and whispered wiping charm. Ron gave her one of his goofy smiles and Draco gripped the edge of their table when Potter tousled Ron’s hair.

Draco had mechanically turned his head to look at him as he struggled to up appearances. “As long as you can deliver results, I will be grateful. Indebted Malfoy is a valuable ally.”

“Sure, sure. But I’m not interested in favors, Draco. I’m doing this because watching you pine, scowl and pout is getting old. Especially if you’re making it so glaringly obvious. Blaise, Pansy and Theo agree with me that you’d make a very handsome couple.”  

“Let’s go and eat dinner. I’m starving,” the blond replied after a while, as he bent down to open his school bag. Draco piled in his things and Rafe had put away his notes and muggle pens.

Rafe and Draco had gathered their bags and they were leaving the study hall. Ron was looking at them, contemplatively. Draco had quickly averted his gaze, but Rafe had winked at the redhead, who appraised him with a weird look. Then he suddenly stood up and he made his approach.

Ron had blocked off the only exit. People around were beginning to lose interest in their boring notes. Professor Flitwick wasn’t paying attention to the excited murmurs as he had nodded off. So much for supervised study, Rafe mused.

“Can we talk? Alone,” Ron whispered, addressing Rafe only and he pretended like Draco was either invisible or he wasn’t standing by the Hufflepuff’s side.

Rafe threw a cautious look at Draco, who looked like he simultaneously swallowed some dragon dung and a whole lemon. “Meet me at Slytherin table, I’ll save you a plate,” Draco stated, straight-faced as ever when he marched off without sparing them another glance.

When Draco left, Ron was on the move and Rafe followed him, curious what this was about. Maybe he heard them plotting about the detention? They weren’t exactly discreet.

While he was racking his brain, the redhead stopped walking and Rafe was dragged into shade, outside of spying students sight. Ron had looked uncomfortable now that he got a closer look at his face, even if they were partially hidden in a alcove. “Are you and Malfoy pranking me? Because I’m not laughing.”

Rafe had expected anything, but this allegation was ridiculous. What would he gain from springing childish tricks on another person? Growing up with his dad who had closed off his heart, Rafe knew better than to play with another’s feelings.

“We’re not pranking you or anyone else. I really like you, Ron. But only as a friend.” Rafe said slowly and Ron’s expression rapidly switched from baffled to relieved. “Thank Merlin. For a second I thought you’re into ginger blokes.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” He remarked, eyeing his reaction. “What?”

“Last time I checked you had ears, Ron.”

“Now you definitely are mocking me.”

These British boys and their repressive nature; Rafe was glad he grew up elsewhere. “Gays and lesbians aren’t myths nor cautionary tales told to wizarding children. I mean, look at me. I know Britain is saturated in generational homophobia, but that doesn’t mean we should bend and conform. Only you can decide for yourself what is your normal. And forgive me for saying this, but you and subtlety cannot ever be friends. You keep staring at Draco’s – mmffph!” Rafe didn’t get to finish his sentence because Ron had clamped his palm over Rafe’s mouth to stop him from talking.

He squinted at the blushing Gryffindor. His embarrassment further proved the point Rafe had just made and they both knew it. Ron had lowered his arm like he got burned and he strode away, back inside the study hall.

Rafe watched him stomp off toward the table he shared with the girl and Potter, who had thrown him a dirty look that lingered on even when Ron retook his seat. Rafe reciprocated with a dirty glare of his own. Self – righteous prick, he thought.  

He turned his back on the study hall, strolling toward the Great Hall.

When he arrived to dinner, Rafe didn’t account for the rare sight of his dad and grandma, sitting and dining at the staff table with other adults.

Grandma Poppy sat between the big giant and the Astronomy teacher. It seemed like she knew them. However, what had really startled him was his dad’s strained, but very present attendance. He claimed the only remaining vacant seat, next to his other father who kept throwing cautious glances his way.

Something must have happened. He hoped dad and grandma will cue him in sooner rather than later. Rafe stopped gawking at the front table and he sauntered toward the long table swathed in green drapery.      

Rafe sat down next to his Slytherin friends who wore oddly empty expressions, unnaturally staring at their plates as they ate. He lifted his gaze to confirm that it wasn’t just them. The whole Slytherin House were suddenly very interested, no transfixed on their meals.

If he was to guess, they were afraid their Head of House would dole out harsh punishments if he caught them staring. Even Draco, who was professor Snape’s godson had refrained from staring overlong at the Potions professor, piling food on the plate of the Defense professor. Damningly, dad let him do it, albeit he didn’t touch anything the other man put on his plate. Rafe saw raw pain in his dad’s eyes.

Rafe didn’t know what had changed overnight, but he will confront his family. He disliked being left out of the important stuff, just because he was still underage.

He dug in the promised plate of mashed potatoes, salad and roasted chicken. He listened to the stilted conversations around the table as he chewed. Rafe watched his dad pass on salt to the other end of staff table. The hands of professor Snape and his dad’s touched and neither shied away.

Perhaps they’ve bridged their differences and this was their attempt at moving on? Whatever the case might be, Rafe would find out. Right after he finished eating.

Draco had appraised him with the cold steel gaze of those gray eyes and so Rafe told him about his chat with Ron. He still didn’t believe that he had a chance to be with the obdurate ginger, but Rafe was determined to make it happen.

It was on his to – do list, right after he found out if his dad made up with the estranged Potions professor.

Rafe reached for a cup of pumpkin juice and he drank the refreshing beverage. Pansy had asked him about homework and Rafe latched on that topic, grateful for the distraction.

Chapter Text

Coming to the Great Hall was a mistake. Roping his godmother into following his lead was foolish. He didn’t tell her much, only that he was very wrong about Snape and while he wasn’t blameless, he didn’t do those things out of spite and malice. When he mentioned that they had ingested Veritaserum knowingly and that he and Snape talked, among other things, Poppy’s mouth was agape in shock at that insinuation.

It took Remus about ten minutes to talk his godmother out of hexing Snape.

Poppy didn’t entirely buy his idea, but she agreed to come and eat with him at the staff table with other professors, thus he ended their self – proclaimed isolation.

Remus sat through entirety of the meal, seated between Snape and McGonagall, pondering whether he should leave after all. The uncanny attention Snape was hoisting on him with placing food on his plate was making people gape at them. Professors were at least somewhat discreet about it, stealing glances at them, but students were too obvious about it. Only Slytherins didn’t look at them. At the Slytherin table he found Rafe who shared a pointed look with him and Remus minutely nodded.

He knew he couldn’t avoid Rafe forever and he had every right to know, just like Poppy. They were his family and he needed their support, now more than ever.

An uneasy decision was awaiting him and for the first time in years Remus wasn't sure that pretending his heart wasn’t torn out of his chest again and then haphazardly tossed back in his open, bleeding ribcage like an afterthought was a good choice.

Remus ate slowly as his mind kept wandering. His senses were overloaded with the smell and taste of the man sitting to his right. He was eating corned beef with some cabbage, but all he tasted was the texture of Snape’s tongue. He kept remembering the lingering taste of something tangy mixed with the bitter taste of  his release. Remus tasted himself on those lips and it had hijacked every moment of his day.

As chairs clattered around him in a discordant chorus, Remus realized majority of student body had left and teachers were on their way out of Great Hall. His plate was nowhere as empty as it should be for a grown man with healthy appetite and he made peace with the fact that he’ll have to ask a house elf for something easy on the stomach later, after his buzzing thoughts have settled down.

When Remus lifted his gaze and glanced at the Slytherin table, he spotted his son chatting away with the Malfoy boy and his friends, though their plates were long empty. Rafe moved his head as if he sensed that Remus was looking at him.

When their gazes met, he saw questions in that gaze, peering at him with the face of man who also unabashedly observed him. A hand – Snape’s hand touched his knee and Remus jerked up to stand abruptly, earning himself bewildered questioning stares of everyone still not gone.

The heavy wooden chair scraped the stony floor and Remus pretended like he wanted to get up in that moment. He pushed the plate with barely touched food away, pointedly choosing to ignore the heated gaze of those dark eyes boring into him with great intensity.

Ever since yesterday, Remus was hyper aware of Snape. Even now the heat radiating from him was doing inadvisable things to Remus’ rapidly waning composure. Snape’s smell had changed from what he remembered. Yet, it was so familiar still.

He wanted to howl out in pain or curl in bed and don’t face anyone or anything for a month until he had picked up the sore, bleeding pieces of his own heart. But he couldn’t do either. At least not tonight. He’s leaving castle grounds for his transformation. He knew of a pack in Wales who’d be willing to accept him in their ranks. It was easier to be with others of his kind on nights of full moon. The wolf side yearned to be free and run with other night howlers. 

Yesterday, it felt like he was run over by a furious, bloodthirsty stampede of hippogriffs and then consequently the Knight Bus finished the job. That’s how much the revealed truth weighed heavily on his mind. Remus desperately wished he could pretend nothing happened, but the truth hurt just as much the betrayal.

Within a blink of an eye, Rafe had approached the staff table and his expression was sullen. “Dad. Professor Snape. Grandma. I think we need to talk.” Remus nodded solemnly. He was grateful when his godmother stepped in and she steered Rafe toward the double doors. Only very few nosy students lingered around and Remus glowered at the child of his former friends. The Weasley boy and Miss Granger were with him. He strode past them and he heard Snape’s footsteps behind him.

At the giant moving staircase Remus had caught up with his family and Snape wasn’t far behind. Uncomfortable silence settled between the four of them and Remus was almost glad when Rafe asked Poppy where they’re going. It was Snape who answered, breaking the grave atmosphere. “We could go to my office. Corridors in the dungeon are deserted at this hour.”

“Very well,” Poppy replied as she threw a quick glimpse at the man who stood beside him.

No one spoke another word and the tension was becoming more unbearable with each passing minute. Remus kept walking and Snape was a constant at his side, sometimes their arms almost brushed (even though he drew back every time) together, which only served to further unnerve him as the wolfish side snapped and growled at that aborted contact, which the beast craved.

It wasn’t just the beastly side that wanted to touch Snape. He was revolted by his conflicted feelings. He should be livid at Snape, not so pathetically expectant and hopeful. One night of truth doesn’t change what he did to him. Nothing between them was mended. If anything, the old wounds have reopened and festered anew.

Remus could handle physical pain better. He had to learn to cope and accept pain that came with lycanthropy. “We’re here,” Poppy announced and Remus snapped his head to look straight ahead. Snape walked up to the door and he muttered some kind of password because the door opened and he stepped inside, leaving the door ajar for them. Rafe and Poppy trudged right in and Remus came into the office as last. Snape lit the fireplace and torches with a flick of his wand and the claustrophobic room was bathed in warm orange undertones. The door closed and locked behind him; and Remus drew closer to stand with Rafe and Poppy while Snape stood a bit further way, behind his desk brimming with unmarked assignments.

After a minute of intense staring Rafe threw his hands up in frustration, startling Poppy with that sudden movement. “I can’t take this anymore! Tell me what the hell changed. You two said you’d never eat at the same table with professor Snape. What had changed?”

Poppy pursed her lips, openly glaring at Snape who held her baleful gaze. “They got high on truth serum and Snape thought it would be a good idea to shatter Remus’ heart for a second time,” she remarked, drawing her wand and pointing it at the Potions Master who didn’t balk nor reach for his own wand. They were locked in a stalemate. Rafe was nonplussed by that crumb of new information. Snape had shifted his gaze past very cross resident medi witch to Remus.

Rafe moved summarily and he placed his hand on Remus’ forearm. Father and son looked at one another then. “Dad.” It was just one word, but it managed to get across Rafe’s uncertainty and fear.

Truth never set him personally free and Remus was silently cursing whoever came up with that blasphemous lie. “There are some things about that night when Poppy and I left Great Britain that need to be addressed.”

“Like what?” Rafe asked, tugging at Remus’ sleeve lightly. “Snape orchestrated the whole drama to make his point about the fake friends I kept close. He also did it to find an excuse for me to leave and not be followed by dubious people. Apparently Voldemort had plans to capture and torture me for information. He’d likely kept me imprisoned until I was of no more use to him and then he’d dispose of me. Snape played a minor role in the deaths of your grandparents. Voldemort had used Legilimency on him to find out where Lupins lived and then he told his followers to pay my family a visit while Snape was getting his Dark Mark. He didn’t know that safety of my father and mother was compromised when Voldemort performed a routine check on his followers,” Remus corroborated, his tone was flat.

“Are you saying that professor Snape wasn’t there when the cottage was set on fire?” Rafe spun around to inspect the man who still didn’t move. He waited for an assertion.

Snape nodded once, his expression turned taciturn. Rafe gasped as he rapidly ambled forward until he stood in front of Poppy’s wand and right before the Potions professor. Poppy scoffed and she lowered her wand and now it was pointing at the floor. “Then you also didn’t drug dad’s Wolfsbane Potion,” Rafe stated and Snape shook his head. “I’d never trick him like that. I didn’t know Remus was pregnant. Wolfsbane had to be tweaked into perfection and Remus was my only test subject. If he told me –“

“Like you told my dad about your plan to ruin his chances at normal life?” Rafe cut in uncompromisingly.

The Potions professor narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re just like Remus, cutting in when I speak.” Rafe smirked, rubbing his nose. “Like father like son, right? In all seriousness, that can’t be everything. What else are you not telling me?”

Snape was ill at ease, visibly turning a few shades paler like he was a bloody chameleon. Remus wasn’t inclined to answer that question either. It was humiliating enough that his godmother had deduced as much on her own without Remus having to tell her in great detail.

When no one spoke for over thirty seconds and the stillness was getting more than just a bit awkward, Rafe seemed to have reached the very same conclusion as he made a circular motion with his hands. “No fucking way. You slept together?! I hope you used condoms this time!!”

“RAFE!”

“Language, young man!!”

Snape sighed as he leaned on his desk. “We didn’t proceed that far. Remus and I were too much emotionally wrung out.” Snape admitted with burning cheeks, piercing Remus with that dark gaze.

Rafe threw Remus a critical, judging look. “Dad, I’m too old to be a brother,” he muttered accusingly. Remus managed to conjure a bleak smile as he lifted up the cardigan and shirt, revealing his stomach. He knew the surgical line was visible, along with other much older scars from when the werewolf turned that wild ferocity on itself while it was under lock and key. Remus was careful to not undress in the presence of others after Rafe was born. Remus revealed that single straight, horizontal line where Poppy cut him up and extracted baby Raphael from his abdomen. 

“I had a choice. I asked Poppy and few assisting healers to take out those other organs if they could. After the placenta was taken care of, the brazilian healers had done the impossible; they extracted the ovaries and womb and I was fully male again. I didn’t take any Wolfsbane Potion since then. Out of fear and stubbornness.”

“It’s one hundred percent safe for consumption. Even for male werewolves whom, uh, prefer company of men. Belby and I made sure it would work for all werewolves, regardless of gender and sexuality.” Snape added.

“Thank god I won’t be an older brother,” Rafe remarked as he kept switching to looking between the three adults. “So what happens now?”

Remus wished he knew what to say. Two days ago his reply would be unanimously leaning toward casting Snape in the role of the worst scum under sun. “You’re not seriously considering forgiving him, Remus.” Poppy’s harsh tone combined with her scowl came off as castigation.

He didn’t know what kind of expression he was making, but the angered frown on Poppy’s face vanished. “Remus. You can’t expect Rafe and I to forgive and forget. This man –“ Poppy pointed at Snape, “ – had hurt you once. What’s stopping him from doing it again and again and again as he toys with your feelings and heart?”

“I’m not toying with Remus! I am a free man, Poppy. I’ve been liberated from that iniquitous bondage on the night that man died. Potter junior killed that bastard and I only want to atone for my sins. I want to move on past all the hurt. I want to make it up to you. I won’t stop trying because I’m tired of feeling like a big part of me has been ripped out.” Snape paused and his dark eyes slid past Rafe and Poppy and transfixed on him.

“I’m not whole without you, Remus.” When he heard that sentence oozing with sincerity, Remus shut his eyes, perhaps in hopes of shutting out the real world around him. It didn’t work, sadly.  

“Where do I and grandma Poppy factor in this… development?” Rafe asked them as if they had all the answers. They usually had, but this was a very uncommon situation they found themselves in. “I want to be respected by you again, Poppy.” Snape’s quiet voice cut through the air and Poppy scoffed, crossing her hands on her chest as she snuffled irately. Snape continued on, undeterred. “Rafe, I know you’re not very fond of me and the reason is more than justified for how I handled things in the past, but I assure if I knew of your existence I would have been there for you. But now you’re here and all I ask if that you give me a chance. That’s all I want. A chance. Poppy. Rafe. Remus. I want to be your family if you’ll just give me a chance to prove myself.”

“How would you go about ‘proving yourself’ I wonder?” Poppy unhelpfully chimed in, keeping her eyes on the Potions professor. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

“How convincing,” she replied snidely. “Poppy, can you take Rafe back to the Hufflepuff dorm? I need to speak with Snape alone,” Remus began, throwing a cautious (warning) glance at his godmother. While he will forever appreciate her unconditional love and protectiveness, he was more than capable of fighting his own battles. He was a grown man in his thirties with a teenage son; Poppy knew Remus wasn’t the same approval seeking young man at the cusp of adulthood. That part of him had been buried because one cannot please everyone and no one should attempt to do such a pointless thing anyway. “Wait! I want to talk with professor Snape, too. In private.”

“Can’t it wait?” Remus asked churlishly, knowing his son’s bullheadedness was a trait he didn’t pass on, that was all the other man’s undue influence. “No, this is urgent. It’s a matter of life and death.”

Remus nodded brusquely. “We’ll wait outside then.” He strut toward the door with Poppy hot on his heels. They stood by wall right outside the office while Remus strained his ears to his advantage, but all he picked up on was static and buzzing. Remus immediately recognized the charm. It was one of Snape’s inventions. Very useful if one wished to have a private conversation in front of a band of snooping friends, or in this case snooping family members.

A minute later, Rafe came out and he looked very pleased with himself, if the smug grin was anything to go by. Remus appraised his son with a puzzled look. “I assume your chat with him went well?”

“Yes, it did. He agreed to help me.”

Merlin, what were they plotting? “What can he do for you that I cannot? Why ask him?” Remus didn’t want to sound so bitter (and jealous) of the other man. Rafe nodded sagely. “Dad, it’s not a matter of can or can’t. This is me giving him a chance to prove himself to us, to our family. I’ll see whether he can and will deliver on his promise he just made me. Grandma, we can depart at your word. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Alright, it’s getting late. I’ll see you off.” Poppy said, gently nudging him along. Rafe laughed good – naturedly. “Goodnight, dad.”

“Goodnight. Go straight to bed and stay out of trouble, you hear me?”

“Aaw, you’re such a stick in the mud sometimes, dad,” Rafe stated. Remus squinted at his son, who relented and began traversing the long corridor.

Poppy took off after him and Remus approached the door with a sense of foreboding. Last time he was here alone with him was the beginning of an end, if he would be prone to believe such nonsense. The door opened and in the doorstep stood Snape. “Come in, Remus,” he said in a soft, melodious voice. The unexpected softness surprised him and Remus went right in.

His gaze fell upon the desk and fireplace behind it as he was formulating what to say. Remus didn’t come here to discuss his disjointed, fucked up string of thoughts. No, he came to Snape because they had a common enemy. If there was someone who hated Black as much as Remus, it had to be this man.

There was no love lost between them and someone else needed to know that crucial information besides his godmother. She was a strong, powerful witch. She was also getting in the years and her reaction time wasn’t what it used to be when she was in her prime. Snape, however shared Remus’ age and while his reflexes weren’t enhanced by lycanthropy, Remus recalled vividly how formidable an opponent the man could be.

His magical prowess was nothing short of excellence and at least he’d know what to look for. There was also the matter with that blasted map that was left behind. It would prove to be immensely helpful.

The door clicked and Remus heard the rustle of Snape’s robes. He strode to stand in front of him and since they shared (more or less) same height Remus kept his gaze drawn at him. “Remus, I imagine you have some questions.”

He did have some, but their private matters had to be put on hold until he sorted out what he exactly felt for Snape. “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. I don’t trust Dumbledore. He didn’t warn me about dementors guarding school grounds. They had ambushed us on the night of welcoming banquet. Poppy and I repelled them, but it could have been avoided if Dumbledore only sent word. He didn’t. A man who’d sic dark creatures on his supposed allies is a crook with no moral compass. He can’t be trusted. Poppy feels the same way about him.”

Snape’s mimicry betrayed him and Remus saw a myriad of emotions flickering until his face twisted in fury. “He purposely set you up to be ambushed by dementors?”

“Yes, I confronted him and he told me it was a test whether I was up to the job. I stayed my hand, but barely. But enough about that old codger. Snape, I’ll be blunt. I don’t trust other teachers to not tattle to Dumbledore. If you want to regain a iota of my former trust, you will help me and you won’t tell anyone about what we’re doing. Do you understand? This is your last and only chance.”

Snape drew nearer, taking hold of his hands. Remus tried to keep up a neutral face, but he was failing miserably. Propinquity in combination with the smells that lingered on his person (perspiration, potions and oddly enough lavender scented soap) and warmth of Snape’s body contrasting with the cool office had him rooted to the spot.

“I understand, Remus. I promise I’ll work with you and I won’t tell a third party about whatever you’re planning to disclose. That goes for us, too.”

Remus breathed out a sigh. “I came here to shed some light on something unrelated to that matter. Weren’t you curious how such a thing was possible? No one escaped from Azkaban before. You must have wondered how he did it. How Black managed to escape from the maximum security stronghold surrounded by ocean. Ask me how, Snape.”

“That’s Severus to you, Remus. I want to be your Severus.” Those long, elegant fingers were gently rubbing the back of Remus’ hands. That gesture doubled with the honesty emanating from the man could make a lesser man close the distance and taste those lips, but Remus had practiced celibacy (until yesterday) and he could carry on like that blowjob and ferocious kissing haven’t affected him.

“I didn’t come here to discuss what happened in my quarters, Snape. I need an ally and I’d appreciate it if you cooperated. Now, ask me how Black escaped,” Remus spoke stridently. He watched the other man’s lips quivering. Then, his jaw set and Remus considered him closely.

“Remus, you can’t postpone and delay this,” he gestured between them and Remus quirked a brow at that, “ - forever. Nonetheless, I’m prepared to assist you regardless of this fragile thing between us. So tell me then, how did that prick manage to break out?”

“He’s an unregistered Animagus. He takes on form of a big, shaggy black dog. Dementors are only interested in human emotions and animals don’t intrigue them enough as tasty morsels. I assume he made it out as a dog, then he swam across the ocean. He’s still at large because no one is searching the country for stray black dogs.”

Snape’s shock was evident, but he masked it rather well with a surge of resentment. “I see. Black, Pettigrew and Potter became Animagi. For your sake? Or theirs?”

Remus wanted to laugh and really, it was just them in Snape’s cold office. So he sniggered scathingly at the thought of those three ever doing anything nice for him. They always had a hidden agenda and Remus’ curse was just a convenient excuse they exploited to become Animagi. He always was a means to an end to them, he knew that now. But back then, he would have sacrificed his life for them in a heartbeat. Their friendship had heavily relied on Remus’ willingness to ignore their wrongdoings and enable their continued harassment of other students, most notably any Slytherins. Only in fifth year the scales shifted and Snape had exclusively become the Marauders recurrent victim.

No, they didn’t do it for him. He was just too blind back then to see their true colors. “You know the answer to your question, Snape. They were selfish conceited jerks who never did a single nice thing for anyone if it wasn’t beneficial for them. I see them now for what they were. Arrogant bullies with no regard for rules nor propriety.”

“That’s a well established fact, Remus. How can I aid you?”

“I heard you and Filch are on friendly terms,” he spoke matter-of-factly and Snape blanched as he took a step back and his feet collided with the visitor’s chair. Before he could fall, Remus instinctively grabbed his hand and pulled the man toward him. He lurched and fumbled awkwardly as their bodies were pressed together. Remus quickly let go when he was sure that Snape wouldn’t trip and fall, before he stopped being reasonable.

“I assure you that those rumors are spread by incompetent dunderheads and other such spiteful crowds.” Snape was quick to protest and Remus rolled his eyes. “I meant that if you were so chummy with him that you could perhaps persuade him to part with something from his office. I assume he must have found or he likely confiscated it.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. A lot of confiscated things lie about in Filch’s office,” Snape remarked mordantly, pinning Remus with those dark eyes.

Dark eyes in which he could get lost irrevocably.

The abyss stared back, Remus mused as he shook off the frivolous thoughts about Snape’s pretty onyx eyes. “Those three and I made a very thorough map of Hogwarts and its immediate surroundings. It shows where everyone is around the clock, at all times. It made stalking ridiculously effortless.”

Snape dubiously glared at him and for a few moments Remus was reminded of the scrawny, defiant boy in oversized, ill – fitting uniforms who dared to glower at them after Potter senior made a cruel joke about Snape’s shabby clothes and Black parroted him, mocking the young Slytherin. Pettigrew joined in, that little sycophant.

“They used their talent for frivolous nonsense and feuding with Slytherins like imbeciles.”

“Quite. Now then, can you or can you not help me retrieve that map? If I had it in my possession, I could find him. He knows all the secret entrances that lead to Hogwarts and some hidden exits, too. I assume you remember that tunnel guarded by Whomping Willow. The underground tunnel empties directly into the basement of Shrieking Shack, as you might recall.”

The sigh that made it past Snape’s tightly pressed lips had not been anticipated and Remus regarded him, bemused.  “I can discreetly make inquiries. However, Filch is not as dim-witted as students think. He’s more perceptive than you think. He’ll figure out what I seek before long.”

Remus scoffed. “He already knew we had means of monitoring everyone, but he didn’t figure out how we did it until the summer of our seventh year when Potter left the map behind in a nook in the library. I can only assume Filch kept it in hopes of utilizing it for his own needs someday. But he’d need a wand and the activation phrase to make the map work for him.”

“So what does it look like? This miraculous map can’t be too fancy or else it would be too recognizable,” Snape muttered.

“You’re right for once Snape. It’s a long piece of folded parchment. It was new then, but by now it has yellowed with age most likely. It’s completely blank unless someone ‘wakes’ it up from its quiescent slumber,” Remus explained with a dour expression, which hopefully expressed how much done he was with everything.

“I’ll speak with Filch.”

Remus nodded and he turned around to leave since he got what he came for, but then the man behind him spoke. “Remus. Full moon is approaching. I can make Wolfsbane for you if you wished.”

Wolfsbane Potion, the miraculous draught that allowed werewolves to retain their humanity after they change into monstrous beings of night. He knew some werewolves who would have killed for a perfectly brewed dose of Wolfsbane. He had no doubts about the efficacy nor potency if Snape brewed it for him. It has been established that it’s completely safe to take, even for a gay werewolf like Remus.

The man’s confession of not knowing he was heavy with a kid – Snape’s and his child had quite literally caused a maelstrom in Remus’ heart. How does one move on from years of abhorrence and wishing the man a horrible, heinous death to – what exactly? Restarting a relationship? He recognized he was wrong about him, but Snape also admitted that he didn’t love him yet in seventh year, so that year when they laid together the first couple of times, Snape was pretending to like him.

But then, he steadily fell in love and from what he heard from Snape himself, he didn’t fall out of love with him since then. It wasn’t an easy decision, even if his lupine side of psyche had sniffed around with hope and silent proclamation of mate whenever he thought of Snape.

What did he, Remus John Lupin want now that the ugly truths have been revealed?

He didn’t know, at least not in this moment while he was temporarily trapped in a tiny room with the man who had uprooted his life yet again.

“Remus?” Snape called out to him and Remus took a deep, reinforcing breath. He angled his neck to glance at the pallid Potions Master who looked at him with mounting concern. He should stow those fruitless thoughts aside, at least for this day. Because once he made a decision to trust him again, he was setting himself up for a much greater blow and heartache.

“I’m not staying in the castle for my change. I know of a pack in Wales that might allow me to run with them. My status as werewolf is widely known across the country. If they won’t accept me, then I’ll think of something else.”

Snape didn’t like his plan, Remus discerned it from the careworn expression and hurt in his eyes. “Remus. Do you still not trust me?” He whispered as his voice cracked. Snape’s dark eyes were glistening with unshed tears and Remus balked at the sight. The presented vulnerability was unexpected, doubly so considering the man’s reputation.

“Trust? You dare speak to me of trust, Snape? Only if you’d trusted me enough to tell me of your demented master’s plans then maybe we wouldn’t be here, standing so far apart in this room like complete strangers who just happened to produce a child together. Don’t you dare feel disappointed that I didn’t fall into your arms like some hapless wretch!” He didn’t mean to yell and growl, but he did and Snape had hung his head. In defeat or shame, to that Remus wasn’t privy and frankly, he didn’t want to linger around out of fear he would tear the man apart with bare hands or worse, give into his primal side and reunite with Snape in the basest form.

He sneered at Snape who still hasn’t raised his head. Remus opened the door for himself and he stormed outside to the chilled corridor, ignoring the painful twinge in his chest.

In a blind fit of fury, Remus began strolling away from the dungeons. Snape wisely didn’t come running after him. Remus wasn’t ready for another emotional confrontation with his former lover.

Remus’ legs carried him to the hospital wing, where Poppy had been waiting for him. Fortuitously she had foresight to brew a pot of tea. Poppy and Remus retreated to her room.

He sank tiredly on a armchair by the window. He peered outside to look at the foggy landscape. The school grounds were shrouded in darkness and thick mist. Remus heard Poppy reach for the pot as she poured golden colored liquid in two cups.

“Rafe is back at his dorm,” Poppy said after a while of silence. Remus knew how this was going to go down. There was virtually nothing he could ever hide from her for long. It would be for the best if he came out with the truth now than make her wheedle it out of him. “I asked him for help with getting that map back and now he knows how Black made it out of prison.”

“That can’t be all, Remus. You’re sulking like a lovelorn teenager,” Poppy commented, picking up her tea cup. He resignedly traced the rim of his cup with his finger. There was no easy way to say it, so he simplified what transpired in Snape’s office after his son and Poppy left.

“He told me he’d brew that potion for me. I declined. We argued and I left.”

Poppy sipped her tea. Remus needed to occupy his hands so he picked up his cup and he drank from it. When they drained their cups and he put his down on saucer with clattering sound, only then had he let the mishmash that was his mind wander.

“Remus, what you need now is time and distance. The latter is not achievable seeing as you and he live in the same place. The former, however is something you have plenty of. We’re staying here until Rafe’s graduation. If your heart is still hardened after so much time had elapsed, then I suppose you will never forgive him and he’ll have to accept that.”

Remus ruefully smiled. “I fear it’s too late, Poppy. I want to hate him and I still do, but then I want to move on, to seal this great gaping hole in my chest. How can I both loathe and yearn for him?”

“Tell me what do you think love is? Is it a warm feeling that chases off the worst misfortunes? Is it a person or people you cherish having in your life? Or maybe it’s a chemical reaction produced and simulated by the deceptive brain?”

He was aghast. “I –“ Poppy’s harsh gaze became softer as she leaned over the small coffee table. She touched his arm and Remus had stared directly at his godmother’s kind, but worried face. “Remus, if you’re worried about what your son and I will think if you decide to get together with your old flame, you should know that we ultimately want what’s best for you. We wish for you to be happy. Let’s face it, Remus. You were never happy in Brazil. You didn’t live your life to the fullest, because something, no someone was still on your mind, despite the betrayal. You’ve closed off your heart and you didn’t make meaningful friendships and you most certainly didn’t find a new love. How could you if your heart still beat for him?”

How did she know his heart so well? Remus reclined more on the armchair, sighing dolefully. “I don’t know what to do.” Admitting that he was stuck in a perpetual deadlock of his own design wasn’t so hard if it was just him and his godmother.

“That’s fine, Remus. It’s okay to not be okay. Despite your curse, you’re still human. Just take it in, day after day as they come and go. You’ll know what you want. Time is on your side.”

Time is on my side.

When he thought about it like that, it downed on him that Poppy was absolutely right. As if he was enlightened, Remus sprung up to his feet, suddenly chipper despite the late hour. “You’re right. Thanks for the tea and advice. I’ll go back to my room now. I need to prepare for a class with seventh years.”

Poppy rolled her shoulders. “Of course, don’t let me hold you back. You and I are employees here and we got jobs to do. Go on then and think about what we talked about.”

Remus clapped her arm, gratefully as he smiled softly at the woman. “I will. Goodnight.”

She briefly reciprocated by touching his cheek. She pressed a feather light kiss right below his right eye. “Goodnight. Sleep well and don’t fret! Good things happen to good people.”

He chuckled and turned round. Remus strode out of her bedroom, past the rows of empty hospital beds and then he went straight to the staff tower to get some sleep. His stomach grumbled and Remus sheepishly ran a palm over his belly. Some food, last preparations for the lectures and then he’d hit the sack.

That sounded like he had rest of evening planned out. Remus walked past the hallway with a lot of paintings, whistling as he navigated through the dim lit passage. His wand shined light on the darkened parts.

Remus was completely unaware of a set of eyes following his every move as he vanished from prying gaze of a shrewd observer.

Chapter Text

A chance, that’s all he desired. Actually he desired a whole lot more than that, but that could wait until he won all three Lupins over. In his heart he knew that Remus still harbored feelings for him and that despite those said feelings he would be the hardest to convince he had only good intentions in mind.

Severus woke up earlier than he normally would. He got up and tended to the morning ablutions and got dressed in his usual slight variation of black attire.

He brewed the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus despite his inflexible refusal to drink it. Chances were the pack he mentioned would not allow an outsider to join them, not even for one night when they transform. The situation for werewolves in Great Britain didn’t change during Remus’ imposed absence. In fact, it only got worse as discrimination against anyone who wasn’t fully human was on the rise. How could it not, when the country was ruled by bigots and fear – mongering, corrupt politicians?

Thanks to Lucius’ extensive networking skills Severus had received first – hand knowledge about the laws those prejudiced people passed for the past eight years. Hopefully with the Ministry’s pet project in which Remus figured as their positive role model of a family man and werewolf, those unjust laws would be repealed indefinitely and werewolves, among others such as vampires could be finally treated as normal citizens.

Life wasn’t fair and people rarely got what they wanted without having to put up hell of a fight. Severus was willing to fight for what was in his heart, for the family he had betrayed once in the past.

He paced around his bedroom listlessly, thinking of the two ‘tasks’ he was given by Rafe and Remus separately. Each more curious than the other. Why would his son try to pair up the youngest Weasley boy with Draco? Maybe he saw something he didn’t; Severus didn’t see the aforementioned flames of passion igniting the very air between those two, but then again he hardly paid attention to frivolous teenage angst and drama over their ever changing relationships. Then, there was Remus’ task of cadging some blasted piece of old parchment from Filch. He wondered if Remus felt guilty about telling him of Black’s ability to transform into an Animagus.

Betrayal repaid by betrayal. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Was this how their world operated now? Severus didn’t feel a smidgen of pity for Black. He always had murderous tendencies and people only started believing he was in fact a deranged individual when he brutally obliterated Pettigrew and betrayed trust of Potters, the very people he swore to protect.

After his twentieth turn around his eyes were drawn toward the topmost shelf with a single carton box. Severus often looked at it, but he didn’t touch it. He felt unworthy of those cherished memories, tucked away safely. He rounded up all items that Remus gave him and put them inside the box. He hadn’t touched anything inside since he stashed all these mementos away. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

But he still saw the box every day and the temptation to pick up items Remus gifted him was sometimes too strong, yet he couldn’t touch anything.

However, Remus was back now and maybe now he could do it. What’s in the past cannot be changed; future is still shrouded in uncertainties. Present is where he must start to repair his relationship with Remus, one day at a time.

As if he was enthralled, Severus took out his wand and summoned the box directly into his hands. It wasn’t too big nor heavy and he shuffled his feet to the desk. He dropped it off and eagerly opened it, like a child opening presents for Christmas.

At the top were the two largest items – two mugs (both black for practicality’s sake) with first letters of their names R and S emblazoned on the front of mugs, a framed photo of them, taken by a muggle camera. Severus picked it out and studied their faces, captured in a moment of happiness and forever frozen. Remus was kissing his cheek, grinning mischievously and Severus snorted at the sappy expression his twenty years old self was making. He traced a thumb across their carefree, younger faces. A rueful smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Severus started unpacking the rest of items. Soon, the two mugs and framed photo were encircled by a few unused notebooks, quills, a snowglobe, a tiny hand – illustrated book (it contained hand – drawn doodles and pictures made by Remus himself) with pressed, dried flowers inside the pages, a set of permanent markers, a pair of scissors (with cute snake design) and since only a few items remained at the very bottom, Severus had to actually peer inside to take a look.

There were only two items remaining and one of them wasn’t something Remus gave him. A carmine bow was neatly folded next to a small green velvet box. Severus felt weird apprehension as he opened the lid. Its contents haven’t changed over time while he wasn’t looking at it. The Prince family heirloom ring intended to be worn by spouse of a Prince sat there undisturbed, untouched by the passage of time. It was made of platinum and some foreign matter from outer space, found by a forebear who blended and shaped both metals into the form of a ring. Allegedly the ring was capable of protecting and saving the wearer’s life.

He closed the lid before he emptied the carton box out completely. The velvet box was shoved in a drawer post – haste so that Severus didn’t have to look at it and feel his control slip and crumble.

Swallowing the lumpy ball stuck in his throat, Severus eyed the carmine bow resting against his sleeved wrist. It still looked new. No frayed edges, no signs of being age – worn and the color looked just as bright as when Remus handed this bow to him to tie his hair. Normal hair ties or even hair clips would have done the job, but Severus decided back then to indulge him.

Severus took to wearing it proudly around the house, his hair tied up in a bun or high ponytail, sometimes he styled it as a side ponytail, sometimes he braided it.

Remus loved playing with his hair, especially after they were both tired and just wanted to feel comfort and warmth of each other. He gripped the bow in his palm so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He can still have that. Severus went into bathroom, contemplating what he was doing here and whether he wanted everyone to see him wearing a glaringly red accessory in his hair.

Since he started his strenuous tenure at Hogwarts, he never wore anything with color, period. To say it would be out of ordinary was an understatement.

But, in the end was the opinion of others so important to him? Maybe after Remus saw him wear it, he would soften toward him. Even a little bit would do. Having made up his mind, Severus carded through the raven locks, staring at his reflection as he gathered it on right side and tied it up securely and precisely.

Severus assessed himself, the overall look the tied up hair offered. A simple change was all it took for Severus to surmise that he looked – different.

While his facial expression stayed the same and his hair was still stubbornly oily in some places, his face overall looked a bit younger. Though it was probably lack of natural light tricking his sight. Severus has gotten so used to wearing his hair long, loose and hanging around his face like curtains that seeing him look so austere was just too strange.

After a few days of odd looks from students and staff, he’ll get acclimatized to his old – new look, Severus mused. Casting one final glance in the mirror, he set out toward his bedroom to pick up the tiny book with pictures. Severus thoughtlessly stashed it in his inner pocket, right underneath his breastbone. The extra weight of a personal item given to him by Remus brought Severus comfort he didn’t know he needed until this morning. As treasures went, it wasn’t expensive or extraordinarily impressive, but Severus found out (the hard way) that the biggest treasures one could have the pleasure of having weren’t expensive. Remus’ wide smile, his warmth, those expressive brown eyes, his touch, his voice.

He frowned at his own thoughts. He had a detention to dole out to his godson and the Weasley boy and on top of that, he had to talk with Filch. It wouldn’t do to delay either of the tasks now, would it? Maybe he could stop by infirmary and ask Poppy how he could prove himself to her.

Severus put on his shoes and cloak. He had two hour block of lessons to teach with third year Gryffindors and Slytherins in the afternoon. For once, he was kind of looking forward to teaching the (mostly) incompetent children the secrets of his craft.

He stalked the dungeons, taking his time to make it to his morning class where he would be teaching first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

As it were, no one was brave enough to comment on his altered appearance. Remus and Poppy were sadly absent from breakfast, but Rafe wasn’t. Severus caught his curious glances and he nodded at his son, acknowledging him. They would talk later; after he pulled off the two arduous tasks.

Severus had a plan in mind. He planned to assign every Slytherin with a Gryffindor to work on a project together. He didn’t often make the ‘bitter enemies’ mingle and when he tried it last time, the Potions classroom had to be renovated and his classes were temporarily moved to the other parts of castle while his preferred classroom was being restored.

Of course, none of them liked this sudden change and majority made their opinions known by yelling and insulting each other. Lovely, truly. Severus showcased one of his toothy smirks and everyone froze as he took points from both Houses. That shut up those competitive brats and Severus felt jubilant as he seemingly randomly chose the partners for their assignment which would take a week (give or take), depending on each pair’s willingness to work together.

With no small personal joy he assigned Potter and Nott together. Potter openly glowered at him with evident hatred. Severus reciprocated the stare of those green eyes with nonchalance, even though he felt a sting of regret in his chest. The latter pouted, but he accepted it nonetheless. Nott’s father was still a true believer of that phony propaganda Voldemort tried so hard to sell to his followers. Maybe being made to share a cauldron and same assignment with the boy who had slain the darkest dark wizard of this century will humble the Nott boy. Then he resumed, his gaze flew past the pale faces of teenagers, looking at him like he lost his mind.

Severus announced the other Gryffindor - Slytherin combinations as Potter and Nott had still not recovered from the shock.

Goyle with Thomas. Finnigan with Crabbe. Patil with Davis. Brown with Greengrass. Granger with Zabini. Longbottom with Parkinson. The remaining two teens who didn’t have an assigned partner yet had stared at him with fear in their gray and blue eyes. How interesting. Maybe there was something to Rafe’s theory. Fear wasn’t the emotion prominent of the faces of other students. They were livid, red – faced as they complied, one of them leaving their side to join the other.

Meanwhile Draco and the Weasley boy looked moments away from collapsing on the floor in a heap of limbs. Their complexions were completely ashen. Severus announced the last pair impassively. “Weasley and Malfoy.”

Weasley pinned Draco with a frightful, but obstinate look, huffing as he crossed his arms and stood his ground. Other pairs had long abandoned their friends and joined the Slytherin side or Gryffindor side of classroom.  Even Potter finally decided to grace Nott with his presence and now the two teens were scowling and glaring at one another. Severus glanced around to gauge the situation. No one was hexing anyone yet and it had better stay that way until he could trap his godson and Weasley into sharing adequate punishment. He was sure other pairs will mess up and even blow up a cauldron (he already felt a bit bad for Miss Parkinson, though her father was a nasty man, but that was hardly her fault), so he would be sure to give out similar punishments to those who made inevitable mistakes during this short – lived partnership.

Severus knew what could get those two moving. He stood in front of the teacher’s desk in front, keeping his expression schooled. “Unless you want to cost your Houses additional fifty points, then I strongly suggest one of you go and stand with your assigned potions partner. Now.”

Granger snapped a pencil in half, which got a reaction out of Weasley at last. He strode across the classroom and gazes of everyone were trained on him. When Weasley halted in front of Draco’s worktable, Severus noticed something infinitesimal. Draco looked pleased for a split second and then he put on his casual crowd – pleaser mask. One that Severus saw Lucius don a dozen times in the past when it was expected of him to put up a performance in public spaces. The air of arrogance wasn’t inborn; it was result of his upbringing. In the noble House of Slytherin, masks and fronting were encouraged by peers and parents.

Severus snorted. “Now that everyone is paired up, we can begin today’s lesson. We’ll be brewing antidotes for common poisons. We shall put them to the test near the end of today’s lesson. You’ll try them out on the vermin prevalent around dungeons. This assignment is important. Poisonings happen more often in our world than one would think. So I suggest you take this seriously. As failsafe, I have prepared a cauldronful of the antidote, just in case some mishaps happen. Be warned that if one of your fails, it’s a failure of both potions partners. The instructions,” he waved his wand at the blackboard, which filled up with neatly written down recipes, “are big enough to read for everyone. If you’re not sure you read something right, come closer to read steps of technical process. Even smallest mistake can spell unpleasant consequences in an instant. Now get started, you have an hour and fifty minutes to impress me.”

Murmurs and groans bounced around the thick walls and Severus glowered at the nearest pair, Patil and Davis who had perhaps taken his frown as sign of displeasure. They were quick to get to the shelves with ingredients. Others followed suit and Severus watched them like a hawk.

Minutes later, the duos started tending to their cauldrons, increasing the flames, putting in the appropriately cut (or whole) ingredients and stirring the bubbling concoctions with stirring rods. Severus’ eyes rested on each pair, though they had lingered the longest on Weasley and Draco. From where he stood, they weren’t doing so good. No one was doing anything good, except Granger and Zabini, which was more than a bit unexpected.

Severus abandoned his place in front of classroom in favor of spying on the messy contents. This school year he hasn’t given out T’s yet, perhaps that might change as the antidotes which should have had a viscous consistency and bluish color were too thin and colors ranged from charcoal black to a multi – colored mash resembling a mangled rainbow. Truly impressive how easily these children bungled up this so quickly. He passed past Potter and Nott and he sneered at the gooey orange paste that stubbornly stuck to the bottom of cauldron. It wasn’t detention worthy; Severus has vanished worse ‘creations’ over the years of this thankless tenure, but he had to start somewhere, right?

He gazed inside their cauldron and unpleasant smile settled on his face. “What is this supposed to be, Potter?”

“Antidote for common poisons, sir,” he replied promptly. “Is it? To me it looks like you forgot to stir anti clockwise six times after you added the fourth ingredient and this is the result of your negligence. Only Granger and Zabini have brewed their antidote exactly according to the instructions. You lot that failed are all getting remedial lessons until you get it right! No exceptions, even for quidditch players. Loss of limb will not excuse you.”

As soon as he finished saying that, bedlam broke loose. The closest students panicked as suddenly a cauldron overflowed, spewing hot, scalding liquid on the floor and it was multiplying at an alarming rate. Severus was impressed by Draco capitalizing on everyone’s existential dread as he slipped a volatile ingredient into his and Weasley’s antidote. The reaction was immediate and those unlucky students who had a brewing station next to green – faced Weasley and blanching Draco stood up their stools, suddenly forgetting they had wands.

He vanished the mess and he tucked his wand in his pocket. Finnigan, Crabbe, Brown and Greengrass had hopped down from their improvised perches, looking on, still spooked. Severus normally would have not tolerated sabotage (be it from someone from his House or not) of any kind, but Rafe wanted to play matchmaker for his friend, who was incredibly good at playacting. Draco must have had practice with his mother, then.

Severus pushed past the disheveled students as he made a beeline for his godson and youngest Weasley boy. Weasley looked like he wanted to jump out the window and drown rather than stay here. “Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?”

Weasley pointed an accusatory finger at Draco. “It was him! I saw him throw something inside!” Weasley said, incensed. “Do you have evidence? Did someone else see Malfoy’s alleged sabotage?” Severus inquired, staring intently from one boy to another. When Weasley rigidly shook his head and no one spoke up, Severus took as a sign that this task was halfway done; now all he had to do is assign them a lengthy detention.

“Whatever happened could have ended badly for your classmates, not to mention yourselves. I have told you that failure of one equals failure of the both of you. As such, you’ve given me no choice. Weasley, Malfoy. You’ll serve detention with me. Whole week, including weekends. Report to me on Saturday morning so we can get started on a fitting punishment. Hopefully that will teach you about responsibility and culpability.”

Draco looked like he won the lottery and Weasley hung his head in defeat, missing the victorious smirk on his potion partner’s face. No one else saw it, not even ever nosey Potter since he was still busy scrubbing off that orange ball and Nott wasn’t helping him at all. Granger and Zabini on the other hand were labeling their shimmering blue antidote, enclosed in a flask.

That was too easy, Severus thought. “Before I dismiss this class, let’s see if Zabini and Granger did it right. These mice,” Severus flicked his wand and a cage small rodents flew on top of an empty brewing station, “have been poisoned. Let’s give that antidote a try. Granger, Zabini. Come here and administer it.”

The two obediently came up to the cage and Zabini tipped some of the liquid inside the cage, not too far from the rodents. They drank from the small puddle and Severus narrowed his eyes. In just about twenty seconds, they were chipper and squeaking, looking for a way out. Alas, the cage was spelled to keep things in.

Maybe there was some hope yet for this generation. “Ten points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for an adequately brewed antidote. You’re dismissed.” Severus didn’t have to say it twice; the students left the potions classroom quick, as if a herd of erumpents were chasing after them.

Left alone, Severus slumped against the edge of a table. He was already thinking of the next task, which was convincing Filch to part with some old parchment.

That shouldn’t prove to be too difficult. He and Filch had an understanding only a few staff members shared with them. Filch was already a caretaker at Hogwarts while Severus himself was still a student. It was no secret that Filch was partial to Slytherins. Many of his fellow students (at that time) theorized he had family that got Sorted into the House of Slytherin. Other theorized he made some deal with Slughorn who used to teach Potions and was Head of Slytherin before Severus took up Slughorn’s role and post.

Whatever the truth may be, Severus maintained good relations with the man. It has been a few months when he last went to Filch’s office. If memory served, last time was around the time the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets was revealed and the real culprit – memory of adolescent Voldemort tried to gain a corporeal body. Filch’s cat was revived as Severus personally went to deliver the potion.

While Severus pondered, the door slid open. “Snape. There you are. I wanted to –“ Remus stopped talking as his gaze was drawn to the tied up raven hair. Severus felt self – conscious under scrutiny of those brown eyes. “You kept it?” The question hung in the air and Remus came to his side, seemingly unaware that he was staring and making Severus’ heart beat faster. He wondered whether Remus caught on it with his enhanced hearing.

“Yes, I kept everything.” He confirmed and Remus frowned and he smelled the air around him; no he smelled him. “That smell – the book, you kept it?”

Severus raised his eyebrow as he unbuttoned the top layer of his teaching attire. He pulled out the small book and he showed it off to Remus, who looked at like he saw a ghost from distant past. His eyes lost some of their light, as if he was lost in a memory. He snapped out of it soon though and then Remus shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We need to hasten our plans. I overheard seventh year students talking about a strange black dog sighting in Hogsmeade. It appeared to be listening to them. It might have been Black.”

The severity of Remus’ words hit him. If the students were right, then that meant they couldn’t afford to rest on their laurels any longer. They needed to act, catch him. Black was dangerous and he was within walking distance of Hogwarts.

Severus stashed his prized possession back where it belonged and he buttoned up properly his long overshirt. His mind raced. “We need to go. You’re coming with me, Remus.”

Remus whirled round and went to the door so fast Severus had to jog to catch up with him. When he caught up and fell in line at Remus’ side, maintaining the hurried pace, the two of them strode past many a student and even confused trio of female professors.

They vanished behind the corner and Remus abandoned all sense of propriety. He ran all the way to the corridor which housed the semi – forgotten office of Hogwarts custodian. Severus cursed under his breath as he broke into a sprint. Remus was still far ahead of him (Severus admitted that he never liked running very much in the first place) and as such he only heard repeated thudding in the distance.

What in Salazar’s name was Remus doing? Was he doing what he thought he was doing? A few moments later, Severus finally reached the corridor and with mild horror he found the door was barely holding together and it looked as if it was battered with a battering ram.

Severus often forgot that lycanthropy lended werewolves great strength even in their everyday human forms. He approached the door warily and peered inside. As he predicted, Filch was not in and Remus likely broke the door down with brute strength. He made a mental note to apologize profusely to the cranky old man and get his office door fixed.

He trotted in, joining frenzied Remus who had searched Filch’s desk, going as far as casting Alohomora on the locked drawers. Remus rummaged through them, but judging from his annoyed expression he didn’t find what he was looking for. He stepped away from the desk, shaking his head. “This is getting us nowhere!”

Severus had an idea. It might be a longshot, but it beat manually searching through hundreds of files of students that got on Filch’s bad side. “Wait! Remus, can the parchment be summoned? Did you enchant it with anti – summoning charms?”

Remus scoffed. “Of course not, we were young and stupid. With such stupidity comes lack of precautions. Unless Filch somehow became a wizard and charmed it, we should be in the clear.” Remus raised his wand. “Accio Marauder’s Map!”

The expected didn’t happen. No big sheets of folded paper flew at their heads, no dramatic file cabinet snapping open like jaws and spitting out a yellowed parchment. Nothing of that sort happened. Perhaps a bit disappointed (and reasonably miffed), Remus had lowered his wand. “I was so sure it was here!!”

While the map wasn’t in the caretaker’s possession, it didn’t automatically mean it was nowhere to be found on the school grounds. He was just about to present his theory to Remus when something swooshed over his head and it was set on collision force with Remus’ chest. He caught it with his free hand and immediately his eyes burned with recognition.

“It came.” He stated, dumbfounded. “Obviously. Remus, there is no time to stand on ceremony. Use it.”

Remus nodded as he approached a side table and he placed the age – worn parchment down. Severus was too intrigued by the alleged stalker map, so he drew near, watching from a safe distance as Remus pressed tip of wand to the paper. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

Severus would have rolled his eyes at that childish code, but as the parchment started expanding, spreading out and something was appearing on the previously empty space, Severus moved as close as possible to read it. Very soon, he learned why this map was a terrifying tool. Many small dots showed up everywhere. In classrooms, hallways, restrooms and Severus even found the Slytherin common room on the map, inked thoroughly to the smallest details, showing off every nook and cranny. It was incredible. Incredibly dangerous. If this item ever fell into wrong hands…

“Help me find him. It will be faster.”

Severus scooted closer so he could analyze the map with scrupulous vigilance. The tension was palpable as they began pouring over every centimeter of the map, starting ‘reading’ it from the very outskirts of Forbidden Forest. The map showed Hogwarts and its immediate areas – quidditch pitch, owlery and Hagrid’s hut. The small percentage of the forest it covered wasn’t enough to ascertain whether Black was hiding there or not. Remus didn’t seem very pleased as they moved on to inspect the castle itself.

They focused on different parts of castle. Severus started with dungeons and worked his way up. He didn’t find anything suspicious – Peeves was flying on and about the trophy room and possibly wreaking havoc. Closing in on the poltergeist was Filch, stirred on by his feline companion. Severus then checked all the professors accommodations, including Dumbledore’s. It was silly to even think he would hide inside a teacher’s apartment, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He checked out the various classrooms, starting with Trelawney’s knockoff tea shop hidey hole up the ladder and ending yet another fruitless search with Sprout’s greenhouses.

Then, his eyes found a dot labeled Raphael Lupin and he was standing next to Ronald Weasley. That wasn’t too strange, but the third name next to them had no business being displayed. He nudged Remus’s elbow, all the while keeping his eyes on the inexplicable dot. “What? Did you find Black?”

Severus wordlessly pointed out the anomalous discovery and Remus slanted. His expression showed surprise, shock. “Can this thing be broken?” Severus asked, watching Remus’ warm eyes darkening with unadulterated loathing.

“Impossible. We made it to outlast us. Even if we all died, it would remain perfectly functional. It would be ‘our legacy’.” The air quotes Remus added at the end of his impassioned speech spoke plenty of his old friends' group dynamics and Severus was pondering asking him about it, when his reverie was cut short by two heads peering in. Two ginger, identical heads.

“You must be Mr. Moony then! It all makes sense!” One of the trouble – making Weasley twins shouted in excitement. Severus scowled and their cheery expressions froze on their faces. Remus murmured something quietly and the map was blank again. He folded the parchment and haphazardly placed it in his pocket.

The fury showing on Remus’ face was so frightening that even Severus took a (tiny) step back. “Fifty points from Gryffindor! Each! I’ll deal with you two later. Get out of my sight and stay out of trouble.” Remus sent those two pesky menaces away and they listened, probably out of fear he would take more points from their House.

Once they were gone, Remus purposely strode out the dented door and onto the empty corridor. Severus’ mind was still processing the possibility that what the wizarding world has been told was a lie. One way or another, they will find out the truth. Severus trailed after Remus.

When they arrived at the location – right beside the statue of One – Eyed Witch, Weasley and Rafe were long gone. Severus heard a guttural growl beside him, coming from Remus. “I can smell him. The rat was here.”

“Rat? His form was – is a rat?” Severus couldn’t think of a more fitting Animagus form for that fawning cretin. Remus grunted in affirmation and his eyes shone with amber.

That wasn’t a good idea, full moon fell on tonight and the wolf wanted out a bit earlier, it seemed. While Severus was forevermore fascinated by Remus’ other side, the same couldn’t be said for rest of Hogwarts population. Students were walking about! He would scare them and then what? Lupins would be sent away or worse, Remus would be fired on the spot!

Severus grabbed his arm and dragged Remus along. He tried to fight him off, but Severus clenched down harder around the fabric of Remus’ shirt. “Let go. I need to find him. Him and Black. They owe me some fucking answers,” Remus shot back snappishly.

“No.” Remus needed to cool down. If they alerted the rat now, he could escape and who knows when and if they would track him down again.

“No? Who do you think you are, Snape?”

“Calm down, Remus. Think.”

Remus snorted, though he didn’t fight him anymore and Severus led him up the stairs to Remus’ rooms. Once they were inside and Severus performed a dozen of spells that blocked out sound from the inside, only then did he lower his guard. Which was a mistake, because Remus pounced on him and knocked him off his feet. It was pure luck neither of them hit their heads on anything. His wand landed under the shoe rack and Severus thought that at least it wasn’t broken by their fall.

Severus hissed as he was met with the eyes of slumbering beast, wearing Remus’ pretty face. He snarled and Severus touched his face, his fingertips brushed over the freshly shaven chin. Remus stilled, sitting upright as he kept Severus pinned on the ground with his legs.

“Remus. You’re not thinking straight. Think. Think. If we announce to Pettigrew we know he’s alive and he escapes to someplace the map cannot track him, then what? We still need to find Black, too. I know you despise them both, but you know that dead men don’t show up on stalker maps. Black might be a narcissistic son of a bitch and a shitty friend, but he didn’t murder Pettigrew.”

Remus looked thoughtful as he placed his hands above Severus’ head. The amber in his eyes fizzed out like bubbles in a bath, leaving behind only the normal human eyes. Severus slid his palms a bit higher. “You’ve come back to your senses.” Remus stared at him strangely for a moment, then he stood up and he even offered a hand up to Severus, who took it without any hesitation. Remus pulled him up to his feet and Severus stumbled into him. He held onto the collar of the slightly oversized dark brown pullover.

Severus wanted to kiss him, badly. But this wasn’t the best time. He reluctantly let go and he picked up his wand, then he ambled toward the living room area. Remus followed him and now they stood face to face beside the coffee table. Severus knew he had only one chance to change Remus’ mind about seeking out the rat and mutt unprepared. Severus hoped he could persuade him to wait.

“Remus, we cannot stay here long, so I’ll make this short. We will deal with this Pettigrew and Black fiasco together. No solo hunts. I know you’re more than capable to hunt both of them down on your own, but I cannot let you do it alone. If you were injured by them, how would Poppy and Rafe feel? Besides, I have assigned Weasley and my godson Draco to a detention. I might find out more through shallow surface Legilimency. I doubt the Weasley boy will notice anything.”

Remus didn’t look even remotely convinced, but he nodded nonetheless, albeit stiffly. “I loathe to say it, but you’re right. We’re no longer the people we were during our school days. I don’t know neither Black or Pettigrew as they are now. I never really knew them and they never really wanted to know me, either. They wanted to feel the thrills of running with a werewolf and they got it,” Remus stated wryly. “I’ll do as you say, for now. Was there anything else you wanted to say, Snape? If I’m not mistaken you have a lecture with fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors in –“ Remus checked the round clock hanging on the wall. “Twenty minutes.”

 “Yes, there was something else I wanted to discuss. You went to meet with that pack in Wales. Did they accept you into their ranks?”

Remus tipped back his head and laughed. “I got rejected. They asked me some personal questions. It turns out they have the ear of Greyback after all. The pack’s leader didn’t want a homosexual among them. He was afraid I would ‘corrupt’ more werewolves to be like me.”

Severus was upset as he grabbed Remus by his shoulders. “Don’t listen to that prick, Remus.”

“Did you think I would let it get to me? Homophobia is not exclusive to this dour isle. I got called faggot and worse creative names in Brazil. But we’ve gone off topic. Why does it matter to you if I have a pack to run with or not?”

He tightened hold on him. “It matters to me because I care about you, Remus. I know you said to not bother with it, but I had brewed the Wolfbane for you anyway, just in case that pack didn’t want to allow you to join them. Remus, I offer you the possibility of spending the night curled up in your apartment, in warmth and safety behind walls and with your sense of self completely retained. I would stand guard outside and make sure no one trespasses inside.”

Severus felt the full body shudder from the other man’s body. “You shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t want it.”

It was worth a shot. He’ll try again next month. “I understand your apprehension, but it’s safe. All side effects have been eliminated. Please, Remus. I just want to help you, to ease the pain of your suffering when the transformation begins. You know Wolfsbane affects the mind, it helps you stay in charge of your actions when you change. You don’t want to hurt innocents, Remus. I know that.”

The volatile reaction was expected, but Severus was still hurt when Remus wrested himself out of his hold. “We’ve been over this. You can’t convince me to take it.”

Maybe not tonight or even in the following months, but one day Remus will give in and accept his help. He just had to keep at it till it happened. “Surely there is something I can do for you?” Severus asked, shifting the conversation away from his unsuccessful persuasion.

Remus shook his head. “No, I don’t need anything.” From him. He didn’t need anything from him. Severus was disheartened, but not enough to stop trying. If he stopped trying, part of him would die.

“I know you’re frustrated at me and you’ve good reason to never trust me again, but at the same time you know my motives. At that time, I saw it as my only choice to ensure you’d survive the coming culling of our generation. More than half of people we knew are dead and we’re both alive.”

“The world has changed, Snape. Things are different now.” Remus reacted.

“It’s not the world that is cruel, Remus, it’s the people in it that are cruel,” Severus said, thinking of course of the bullies he met throughout life. Black and Potter were merely the first; the Death Eaters and Voldemort made them look like amateurs in comparison.

“Time’s up, Snape. Go back to your dungeons,” Remus retorted, his tone was testy. Severus clenched his jaw so hard he feared he’d cause some pretty bad damage to the bone structure. It wouldn’t do to argue with him, so he briskly sauntered to the door, pulling out his wand to lift the array of charms he set earlier. He was about to leave when he heard Remus speak.

“I’ll be transforming in my parents’ cellar. Poppy went to see if it still stands and it looks intact. I’ll spend the night there. If you really mean to help, then come after sunrise and bring potions and salves with you.”

Severus whirled around to stare, astounded at Remus, who held his gaze. He’s serious. Is this Remus’ way of giving him a chance to do something personal for him? “I’ll be there,” he promised, scanning Remus’ face. Remus turned his back on him, going to his bedroom.

That was his cue to leave then. Severus exited and hurried down the long corridors. He’d take a shortcut by climbing down the moving big stairs.

When he reached his classroom, five minutes later the students had filed in as they saw him approaching. “Dude, did you see that?” Jordan, the best friend to the Weasley twins muttered.

“Yeah!”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at the gossiping trio of Gryffindors and soon, their murmurs died down. “Professor Snape?” Johnson spoke up and Severus glanced at her. “What is it?”

“Um, you should check yourself out in a mirror, sir.”

There was a restroom close by. Severus hasn’t been in one of those since he was student, but surely the mirrors were still in place. He swished his wand at the blackboard twice, first time for erasing instructions about the antidotes and second time to fill the space with the potions fifth years should revise from their previous year. “I’ll be back soon. Get your ingredients and get started on the base potion.”

He didn’t need to threaten them verbally. Even the loudmouth, often chaos loving trio of pranksters kept quiet. He didn’t quite trust this complacent obedience this batch of O.W.L.S. lions and snakes were displaying, so he stayed to listen at the door for a few minutes in case they started wrecking the classroom in his absence.

Minutes passed and nothing exploded, so Severus concluded he could go and see what was suddenly so unnerving about his appearance.

As he made it inside the men’s restroom, Severus scornfully assessed his reflection. Besides the rumpled clothing (the fall when Remus tackled him to the ground caused it, maybe) and hair at the top sticking out in all directions, there was nothing out of ordinary. Johnson wasted his time for nothing! Some professors (especially Trelawney, Burbage and Sprout) go to teach their classes looking far worse and no one bats en eye!

He fixed his clothes and hair, which he braided and the red bow was interwoven within the braid. Sufficiently satisfied with his prim and proper look, Severus went back to teach his class. Fortunately, no one blew up their closest neighbor while he was gone. From memory, he began citing the contents of today’s lesson as he counted (in his head) the hours remaining till the new day dawned.

He was presented with a rare chance to show Remus he would attend to his needs and take care of him; and he was determined to grasp it and hold onto him.

Chapter Text

Murky mist clung to Hogwarts and its surroundings like a blanket. Very cold blanket. Morning dew covered what little remained of grass still not impacted with frost. Yesterday it rained cats and dogs, if his muddy shoes were anything to go by. Severus hated going out somewhere after it rained or snowed. But, he promised Remus that he would come to him.

While the student body slumbered in their commons and other professors were just waking up, Severus was already out and about, trekking to the edge of the anti - apparition wards. He was dressed in a thicker variant of his usual robes to ward off the cool air. Seasonal flu was a recurring problem and what a joke it would be if he caught a minor cold because of his own negligence?

Prevention, in combination with preparedness for any weather are the best immunity boosters. Though Severus knew the healers at St. Mungo’s and other such medical staff would disagree with his reasoning.

He arrived at the point where the wards didn’t reach, way beyond the gate. In the distance grayish smoke was rising from chimneys of the quaint houses. Hogsmeade was similarly hidden by fog, though denser. Soon, the store owners will rise and get ready to open up their shops. Maybe he should make a pit stop at Honeydukes and grab some chocolate for Remus, Rafe and Poppy.

Chances were they won’t accept it, but there was no harm in getting his family with penchant for sweets something small, as a gesture of kindness. In any case, Remus might just devour his share of sweets right there and then. Surely Remus’ tastes haven’t changed. Considering he lived abroad in Brazil and Honeydukes had no branch stores outside of Great Britain it was very unlikely. If he considered also the fact that imported goods were too costly and really not worth the galleons, then Remus hasn’t eaten any of his favorite sweets since he chased him off.

Since that day, nothing was quite the same, was it?

Severus pulled the folds of his thick woolen robes tighter around himself. He resumed walking down the road most traveled, hoping the owner would be amenable to sell him some goods before opening time. Severus used to be one of his most loyal customers back when he and Remus were dating during their seventh year and even afterwards he ordered chocoballs and Remus’ favorite mint flavored dark chocolate every month, until he made that disastrous decision.

The edge of town was held captive by Moros, nary a cat was out on the streets. Thunder clapped somewhere above his head and sure enough, droplets of water were spilling from the sky. They fell languidly at first, but gradually they built up on intensity. Severus wisely sought out shelter, long enough to take out his wand and tap it against his cloak and robes. “Impervius,” he muttered, unimpressed by the sudden downpour. He put his wand away and he continued the rest of short walk to the sweets shop, unhindered by the heavy rainfall.

It has been more than eight years since he stepped foot in town. While the proximity to Hogwarts was advantageous to some of his colleagues, Severus seldom joined them for drinks at The Three Broomsticks. Drinking would loosen his tongue unnecessarily and he didn’t feel comfortable letting down his guard around other people – other than the Malfoys. Remus and his, their (he corrected himself) family are in a special category. He’s done looking at the memory of himself running.

Only cowards cannot own up and learn from well-meaning, but heartrending misjudgments. Severus appraised the sign ‘Closed’ that hung at the front window. The ever ‘dancing’ treats never stopped their intricate dance routine, not even when no one safe for him was around to appreciate the rather impressive charm at work. Severus sneezed. Standing about in rain was not a good idea. He’s supposed to go to Remus, not ruminate!

Ignoring all social norms at this still very early hour, Severus knocked on the solid wooden frame. He didn’t stop until a man donning a pointy sleeping cap and dressed in simple light blue pajamas didn’t emerge from somewhere inside. Squinting, the man in his late fifties tiredly unlocked the door after deliberating if this disturbance was important enough. He invited him in with a gesture. “Look what the cat dragged in. Long time no see, Mr. Snape.”

Severus furrowed his eyebrow at him when the man let him cross into somewhat warmer space that doubled as cashier and goods display. The owner swished his wand and the candles on the chandelier lit up. It was perhaps a bit too bright now, but he was already in, wasn’t he?

“Whilst it’s highly irregular to visit my establishment before usual business hours, it’s not unprecedented. Why did you disturb my sleep if I might ask?” The owner hid a big yawn with the back of his palm.

Was this man trying to be sarcastic? For what purpose other than procuring this store’s merchandise would Severus even think of coming to Hogsmeade in person? “I know it’s too early, but it’s urgent. Can I get what I need? I won’t keep you. I’ll pay upfront, too.”

“Very well, since I remember the overly serious young man that used to come here every week like a clockwork to buy chocolate. Make your purchase, but next time come during daylight, Mr. Snape,” the owner chastised him and Severus angled his neck in what he hoped looked like meek conformity. Severus then scanned the shelves. He located what he was looking for fairly easily; the chocolates and related goods were in the front.

Severus nabbed the mint flavored chocolate, a handful of chocoballs and then he halted in his tracks, he was made aware of his blunder. What sweets did Rafe prefer? Did he inherit Remus’ sweet tooth? Did Poppy still like muggle sweets more than the wizarding sweets?

It struck him that he didn’t know what to buy for them. It would be better to ask Remus later than to buy stuff they wouldn’t want nor accept at the present time; especially Poppy would be reluctant to take anything that could be seen as gift (best case) or bribe (worst case scenario) from him. Severus made a beeline for the cashier, where the sleepy owner was half leaning, half nodding off as he stood next to the shelf filled with exploding bonbons.

The heavy-eyed owner personally ringed up the chocolate goodies and he stored the purchase in a medium sized paper bag with the store’s logo. Severus palpated for the coins in his pocket. He always carried around some cash, just in cases such as this rare splurge. He dropped a pile of sickles on the counter without counting, hoping it would be enough. The owner hummed, putting the coins away. “Goodbye. I’ll order by owl next time, Mr. Jenkins.”

He was already by the front door, his hand on the handle when the owner spoke up. “Wait up, Mr. Snape. You forgot your change.”

“Keep it as compensation for bothering you with my paltry needs so early,” Severus replied coolly and then he briskly walked out onto the street. He peered up at the sky filled with big, grayish clouds. At least it stopped raining, he mused.

The town was likewise protected with anti-apparition wards and charms, so Severus steeled himself for a long walk outside of the barrier’s influence. At the other side of town, he crossed the long bridge. He was free to apparate at will again and he really ought to go – Remus is waiting for him (presumably) and the last thing he wanted was to ruin this one opportunity he was given by being tardy. But, the freakish, tall and weather-worn Shrieking Shack was just a stone’s throw away.

Just staring at it was making the hairs on his neck stand up. There were no fond memories of that place. Not for him and not for Remus who spent many moons in that now shabby building,  kept under lock. Naturally, the werewolf then mauled himself every month. No creature likes being trapped, no matter how pretty it may look from the inside; a gilded cage is still just that, a cage with no way out.

Severus grimaced as he realized he made the same correlation, likening Hogwarts to a pretty cage with no way out. But, did he really have no way out of that enforced subjugation? Has he not paid a high enough price for his continued freedom?

One of his masters was dead (may his rancid spirit never find peace) and the other was unfortunately still very much alive. People would notice and be quick to point fingers at him – or worse at Remus if that old schemer died all of sudden. Chalking his unfortunate demise up to old age wouldn’t help lessen the suspicions. If anything, those fools would be inclined to single him and Remus out as murderers, despite the lack of concrete evidence. It would be far too easy to pin a murder on a former Death Eater and his werewolf accomplice. They would become prime suspects right off the bat. Aurors were a stupid bunch. Prejudiced and judgmental.

Severus turned away from the corpse of the past with boarded up windows and barricaded entrances. The issue of dealing with Dumbledore needed to be resolved peacefully. He’s a formidably shrewd man, but he’s not untouchable. Moreover, he has powerful, shrewd friends who’d be more than happy to see the headmaster fall from grace.

He resolved to sent a note to them requesting a meeting after he saw to Remus and his wounds.

Severus wondered in what state he will find him. The early ‘beta’ Wolfsbane Potion tests left him as weak as a newborn kneazle, unable to get up on his own without help. Remus had the advantage of youth on his side back then. Now they were in their thirties and while that age was considered ‘old’ by (most old-fashioned) muggle standards, in their world they were still seen as young men at the peak of physical and magical prowess.

He knew he was stalling; fear and eagerness battled inside him, two potent forces which had often triggered the fight or flight self-preservation instincts. It was inadvisable to delay. Severus walked a bit further away, minding his step as the grass beneath his shoes was a bit slippery. Severus took out his wand and he turned in place, thinking of the solitary cottage in the woods.

Coming back here felt like he stepped back in time. He was freshly nineteen again, bringing a bottle of firewhiskey as a gift for a highly anticipated dinner. Remus introduced him as his life partner. Hope and Lyall took the unexpected news better than Eileen and Tobias. Then, the truly unanticipated thing happened – Remus’ parents had liked him right off the bat. Severus recalled every interaction with them.

When he learned of their deaths, he was blindsided with encumbering culpability. Their blood was on his hands and Remus lost two wonderful people who loved him. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He had blamed himself all these years for that blunder. Perhaps it was time to allow their spirits to rest.

Severus hoped they would forgive him someday, wherever they were.

He never came here after the house burned down, so this was his first time seeing it in such a desolate state. The cottage as he remembered it was gone; only the foundations remained. Debris and ash were strewn over nearly every inch of the property. The adjacent garden was besieged by dried up, yet stubbornly clinging on weeds. Hope’s radiant garden where he helped plant forget-me-nots was utterly destroyed. The soil darkened due to the proximity of a rampaging dark spell that reduced the Lupin’s home to cinders and rubble.

A chilling breeze blew his way, from the forest and Severus felt the cold air perforate through all four layers he wore. He opted to just go in before he caught a nasty cold in the inhospitable Welsh countryside. Severus didn’t have to search for long, he saw the solitary hatch in the ground, just a stone throw’s away from the ruins of pantry. He bent down and immediately sneezed. Severus rubbed his nose tetchily.

He opened the hatch, peering inside. It was too dark to see anything expect a few stairs that led all the way to the bowels underneath. “Remus, I’m coming to you. Don’t move!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” came a strained, sarcastic reply spoken in Remus’ gruff sounding voice. Severus grew just a tad more worried that something was amiss.

“Lumos,” he lit up his wand to shine on his path as he clutched at the paper bag in his other hand. Severus briskly descended the stairs, but not before he closed the hatch on the inside to avoid chilly draft coming in.

What he saw at the bottom made him halt and stand on the last stair, frozen in unadulterated horror.

There wasn’t even a speck of ground left that wasn’t covered in blood. It looked like a murder scene, completed with Remus’ deathly pale visage. His modesty was preserved (barely) by a scrap of cloak. Severus spied tattered pieces of clothing scattered all over the smallish space. The werewolf’s fury and frustration must have been horrible, he surmised.

“Are you just go-going to,” Remus coughed, wetly, “to stare at me?” 

Severus shook off his apprehension and he dashed toward the felled man. “Are you hurt?” Severus touched his right forearm. “Aside from feeling like I was ran over by five Knight Buses? As you can see for yourself, I’m peachy.” Remus wheezed back a cross retort at him. He scanned the cellar for Remus’ wand, but it wasn’t anywhere on the floor, which he thought was both smart and stupid. The werewolf might have munched on it, snapped it in half with paws or jaws. The man, however could have used it to cast a few basic spells to help preserve strength before he had arrived.

This further proved his point that Remus was better off taking the Wolfsbane Potion rather than continuing down this one plank road paving premature death via excessive blood loss. It was hard not to notice the intensifying bouts of shivers that wreaked havoc throughout Remus’ battered body. Severus hastily shed off his thick cloak and he proceeded to wrap it around Remus to staunch off the worst of the cold.

Just as he expected, the daft man tried to unfurl the fur-lined cloak, but Severus wouldn’t have it. Would it hurt him to accept a little help every now and then? “Let me take care of you, Remus. That’s why I’m here. You’re not allowed to catch hypothermia because you were too proud to accept means of keeping yourself warm from me! Now let me help you sit upright so you can take the potions I brought.”

Severus made the wincing man sit up, all wrapped up and cocooned in the dark material. Severus took off the large satchel he looped around his belt, his eyes focused on the task at hand, though he knew and he was aware of Remus’ gaze. He brought up a bunch of vials, some were medium sized and others carried just enough liquid inside for one sip. He also brought a balm with dittany that should help accelerate the healing process and closing of wounds. One of the slightly larger vials contained disinfectant and he even brought with him a few cotton buds. Severus deposited everything on the floor, next to the Honeydukes purchase. “What’s that?” Remus asked, eyeing the package.

“Chocolate and other such goods. I brought them for you. You can have some after you let me help.”

“Bribing? I’m not a little kid going to the dentist’s, Sn-“ his speech got interrupted by a coughing fit. Severus shook his head.

“You can talk my ear off later, Remus.” He reproved any further attempts at speaking.

His hacking subsided and the tenaciously stubborn man wrapped up in Severus’ traveling cloak nodded. He shoot an inquisitive look at the lined up healing salves, muscle relaxants and even an oval jar, which he assumed contained something that would speed up the overall healing process of the damaged skin tissue.

Severus unstoppered the first vial and he put it up next to Remus’ lips, who showed no sign of wanting to cooperate. Until Severus told him what he was imbibing.

The distrust for an old fault; an oversight really, had still presented a seemingly unending chasm between them. But, he could recognize from where Remus was coming from. He’d ask questions about potions, liniment and other such medical supplies if this was him, lying injured in the basement of his long dead parents.

Exercising saintly patience, Severus held the sweetly smelling potion in front of those puzzled brown eyes. “As first, you’re going to take blood replenishing potion. You’ve lost too much blood and your regenerative abilities have been stalled.” He hoped explaining would make Remus more compliant and after a beat he opened his mouth. They held eye contact as Severus tipped the lime colored liquid down his throat. Remus’ Adam’s apple bobbed incessantly, confirming that he ingested everything.

As soon as the first vial was empty, he reached for the next, which contained rich yellow draught for stabilizing blood pressure. Severus assumed he would need that, too. If he fainted, it could connote some serious issues he’d rather avoid, if only to escape incurring wrath of Poppy. Severus couldn’t afford any setbacks in his effort to get the Lupins to trust him again. He presented the second vial with a calm demeanor. “This will make your blood pressure stable. I imagine it’s very low at the moment still, so I’m boosting it back to normal parameters.”

Remus nodded curtly and he accepted the second drink without further complaints. Severus continued pouring the medicine he personally made down Remus’ gullet. Outside of making disgusted faces at the sour and bitter taste, he took them all. Slowly, color was returning to his sallow cheeks and Severus huffed in relief and knowledge that Remus would be fine. Some food and rest would take care of rest.

“Give me some of that chocolate,” Remus demanded suddenly, snaking his right arm out of the tightly wrapped cocoon, but Severus was faster. He grabbed the Honeydukes package and put it further away, out of Remus’ reach.

“Not yet. I still need to make sure those wounds don’t fester. They need to be cleaned and then I will apply a healing salve on the bruises and cuts,” he retorted, half amused by Remus’ sulking as he hmphed, turning his head slightly away. He was being avoidant all of sudden. 

“I don’t know why I asked you to come. I can’t do this again,” Remus mumbled dully with severity of a man who was let down one time too many by exploitative people. Severus ignored the twang of shame that crept on his back, though the dread was much harder to ignore.

What if Remus decided to not give him even a tiny chance of righting his wrongs? All he wanted was to hash out their past and start anew, as a unit. A family. He craved for that sense of belonging – of true belonging to Remus, hoping there would be reciprocation of intentions somewhere down the line. Now, however, it looked very much like a distant, unobtainable daydream. Severus opened the jar, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Where are the most serious gashes? Those need immediate treatment, other minor wounds you can sort out by yourself. I am sure you don’t want to linger in here, especially with your heightened sense of smell.”

Remus sniffed. “The stench of blood doesn’t concern me as much as you. Your scent is intoxicating,” the last word came out as a semi growl and Severus stiffened, acutely aware of where he carelessly put his hand before, close to Remus’ crotch area. Even with the cloak acting as a separation barrier, it was impossible to miss the heavy length resting against his palm. Remus shifted slightly. He let out impossibly lewd, needy moan. Severus’ breath hitched when Remus moved closer and he began grinding his hips, undulating them even. He sought friction, biting into his lower lip.

Meanwhile, Severus berated himself for being so stupid. He should have known something like this could happen, after all most of these potions were highly reactive to one another and the doses, while in small quantities could still bind to a common agent and cause arousal as a side effect. He couldn’t believe he overlooked something! It was such an amateurish mistake, too!! Severus scorned himself for accidentally drugging Remus. Mockingly, an annoying voice sounding like Moody called him a Knockturn Alley quack peddler.

Severus stopped the delicious grinding before he stopped thinking rationally. He moved Remus’ hand out of the way, but then the other slipped between their bodies and Remus caressed his thigh with wanton enthusiasm. It took a great deal of willpower to not give in and let Remus take what he needed, but he needed to keep this interaction as pure and chaste as possible. Remus trusted him to keep him from worst of harm, not to be molested and taken advantage of by him.

He wasn’t quite so desperate he wanted Remus like this, not in full control of his faculties and still too weak. Predictably, Remus high on medicine was hard to turn down, especially if he kept flaunting those pretty eyes and batting those eyelashes at him. Severus was just a man like any other. It would be far too easy to take what he wanted, to make Remus his again, right here in this godforsaken cellar fouled up by decay and ruin.

It would be also immoral to have sex with an intoxicated partner (especially if that partner was Remus) and it would be going against his principles. He didn’t want to use dubious means to bed Remus. Severus fished for his wand in the front pocket and then he did what he had to, pointing it at rosy cheeked Remus. “Petrificus Totalus!”

The spell hit him straight on and he froze up, halfway sitting up as he tried to wrest his arms away and downward toward their nether region. “It’s for your own good. You’d be furious with me once you sobered up. I know you too well, Remus. I don’t want to destroy what may be possibly my only chance with you by using you like that,” Severus uttered softly, dropping his wand on the floor, having it slanting on the paper bag.

Body-locking charm kept the whole body immobile except the eyes. Remus looked at him pitifully. Severus remained firm, shaking his head in dissent. “Stop giving me that pitiful look. I won’t exploit your vulnerable state when you’re high as a kite.”

Remus woefully, frantically glanced at him. “I need to assess your wounds. I promise I won’t do anything untoward. I’ll make it quick,” he promised as he slid the now considerably warmer material off Remus’ broad shoulders. Examination of the upper body didn’t take too long; he had minor cuts on his arm and one bite wound, but it didn’t look too deep. There was also a gash on his chest, right below his left nipple, fortunately it was also shallow, superficial. Severus clicked his tongue, taking a mental catalog of the wounds. He surmised that the worst of Remus’ wounds must have been located further down.

Dabbing a cotton bud into the disinfectant, Severus quickly got to work on cleaning out the wounds, one by one with meticulous, practiced efficiency. He didn’t share Poppy’s gift of healing, but he knew the basics. Knowing first aid was a requirement for all Hogwarts staff, including likes of that nutty bint Trelawney and Filch. He made sure to not let his eyes linger on Remus’ body longer than was necessary, he kept touching to bare minimum. The whole time, those brown eyes observed him, he was sure of it just like he knew sun would come out soon and scatter the fog into nothingness.

As he was rubbing the balm onto the damaged skin, he sneaked a peak at Remus’ face, which proved to be a bad, bad decision. A spattering of auric coloring was taking over, making the irises give off the impression of melting gold. The wolfish side eyed him. Not warily, but with heat and intensity. Severus swallowed, feeling very much like a fawn caught between a gorge and jaws of a stalking predator. He averted his gaze, away from those temptingly suave eyes. Merlin have mercy, Remus was rock hard.

Severus tried clearing his throat, but what came out sounded like garbled noise. “I need to examine your legs,” he announced his intentions as he slipped the cloak further down, revealing a long expanse of scarred skin. Abdomen, hips, thighs, knees, calves, ankles, he critically scanned everything that could be the source of all that spilled, scattered blood on the floor. He tried to be as professional as he could, considering the circumstances they found themselves in, but inevitably he found himself spellbound on the beautiful cock, all hard and leaking, for him. Because of him.

No, Merlin had no mercy for the likes of him. No mercy for weak willed men. Severus was salivating at the sight of it, of the testicles he desperately wanted to suck between his lips, roll and tease in his palms. He knew (quite intimately) what prize awaited him just below those tantalizingly bursting, appealing testicles. If he dipped his hand just a tiny bit below –

He resolutely shook his head, to snap out of the dazed stupor and he reined in the inadvisable lust that would remain unheeded. Remus was just starting to trust him. It would be dastardly of him to act on his base impulses. Severus refused to hurt his ex like that.

With some divine providence and guiding hand of god (or whatever deity was spying on him) they wouldn’t remain exes for much longer. He tore his gaze away from Remus’ privates, doubling down on his search. It didn’t take him long to identify the long, beginning to swell wounds made by the werewolf’s claws and teeth. The claws left behind lacerations, deep cuts and one of them looked like it just narrowly missed a major artery. Severus’ lip curled in barely contained alarm.

Then, there were the bite marks with indentations, spread out on the backside of the left ankle. Even in the bad lighting of the one power source – a chandelier with one lit candle, Severus was able to notice a particularly jagged long scratch, stretched and puffy on the inside of the right thigh. The most worrying of all was the depth of it and how even now dark blood lazily dripped from the open, frankly disgustingly big wound. Severus knew he identified the source of the carnage around Remus. The blood flow has to be staunched and the wound needed some extra tending outside of the classic ointment treatment. He had foresight to stash a roll of unused gauze in his inner pocket, just enough to dress a tended wound until they reached Poppy’s office.

Perhaps one of his own spells could prove to be useful and efficient. Severus picked up his wand. He should undo the Body-locking charm first though. The last thing he wanted was to cause blood clots. He could handle a beautiful, hurt and very mulish werewolf. If Remus persisted in trying to act like a tomcat seeking a quick shag, he could always tie him up with a nifty little charm, another one of his creations. He remembered using it a couple of times on Black in fifth year.

He tapped Remus’ knee. “I’ll undo the charm and I expect you to behave like a model patient. We can explore that mutual exploration and venture at some other time, when your mind isn’t addled.” Unexpectedly, a rasping snarl that sounded like assent came out of Remus’ mouth. Severus curled his lip up in scholarly surprise.

Even immobilized, werewolves could speak – or growl as it were. He put away that particular piece of information for later, though. His wand gracefully floated through the air as he cast. “Finite Incantatem.” The rigid stiffness vanished instantaneously and Remus cocked his head to one side, stretching his limbs like he was a particularly overgrown feline, not a quasi member of the lupus subfamily (albeit only one night in a month), which made for an atypical comparison.

The wolf’s golden hues diminished and brown slowly made a comeback. Remus was back in control and he rolled his hips, lusciously, his length bobbed with every small movement. “Are you sure you don’t want to take advantage of a presented opportunity? Wouldn’t be the first time you used me,” Remus muttered those ugly, contemptuous words while he suggestively arched his back as much as his (healing) injuries allowed. The mere thought made him feel ill, subsequently quite glad he didn’t eat anything before he set out.

He frowned at Remus’ addle-brained tomfoolery. Overestimating the added up ratio of potions was a common mistake among apprentices. Severus ought to know better, so now he reaped what he sowed, until Remus was once more in control of himself. Though he seemed to be plenty ‘himself’ when he hurled that accusation at him like it was a pointy throwing knife.

“I need to concentrate. Stop squirming and be quiet,” he countered with rising annoyance at Remus’ ridiculous uncooperativeness.

Unexpectedly, for once Remus heeded his supplication, though that rebellious spirit of his was not to be extinguished. With torpid little movements the man shamelessly wrapped both hands around his cock. “Remus!!” Severus shrieked, watching how he began working his shaft up and down in a slow tempo from up close. His dick twitched in his pants with hope of getting some action. Severus tsked, angry at his body’s reaction.

Fine! He’ll let the maddening man get off then. Anything to speed up the process of clearing up Remus’ system.

“You’re-ah, en-joying the show, Sna-ah!” Remus moaned, speeding up with frantic need. Severus tore his gaze away, mustering every ounce of self-control to not pounce on Remus, whose pleasured voice took on an echoing reverb in the closed off, bare space.

One of them had to be the responsible adult in this situation. He’s not such a depraved bastard that he would do something without Remus’ permission. Besides, his job was only halfway done. Severus hovered his wand over the largest gash. This spell required complete concentration. Remus’ stifled whimpers grew stronger in volume, he tugged at his length with insistence and dogged enthusiasm of someone too intoxicated to care about anything else other than his pleasure.

His wand's tip drifted as Severus spoke the incantation, not even bothering to disguise the melodious cadence nor overpower the volume of moans Remus elicited with barefaced abandon. “Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur.”

The broken, bloody skin knit itself up, inch by inch and Severus was satisfied with how the mended skin looked pinkish now. It was an improvement. A few seconds later, the cries died down and Remus slipped off Severus’ lap, slumping next to him in a sated manner. His expression was entirely too blissed out.

Fortunately, it looked like getting off has cleared out some of the dazedness, because when Remus’ eyes found him, he was squinting, though his chest was rising rapidly still. Severus had a mind to ask him whether he enjoyed this pointless and painful stint when he could have enjoyed full benefits of taking the Wolfsbane Potion, but then he decided against it. It wouldn’t do to rub salt on a fresh wound, as it were.

Instead he raised his wand again, with intention of cleaning him up and transfiguring the cloak into a robe or something long that would cover his body, but Remus glowered at him, his expression was that of anger, shame and humility. A weird cocktail of emotions, for sure, but Severus remembered the quiet dignity Remus upheld, even during that year of one failed experiment after another, until they made that lucky break. Until that fateful night that was the crowning mistake of his life. Severus pursed his lips, banishing that memory from his mind, lowering his wand, questioning Remus’ intense gaze.

“Give me my wand. I can’t – ungh, move yet.” He said demandingly. How on Earth did he hide his wand? Where? There was nothing here except the thick four walls. Although Severus spotted something. Something horrible. Mounted manacles were on display on the far wall, like the ones found in Hogwarts custodian’s office, although these shackles were rusted, broken.

How horrible this must have felt for Remus, but also for Lyall and Hope. Keeping the little werewolf contained, year after year, until not even the shackles could keep their transformed son bound. Severus wanted to kill that son of a bitch who bit a little, innocent boy for petty revenge.

The grown up version of that little boy gave him a simpering look. “Save that gratuitous pity for someone who needs it. Get on – ungh, with it.”

“Very well, Remus. I take it your wand is somewhere in this room?”

“It’s here. Summon it.”

Skepticism aside, Severus did as he was bid to do. “Accio Remus Lupin’s wand!” Something flew at his head from the ceiling and he caught a long piece of wood – a cypress wand in his clutches. He glanced up and he saw rafters, rotted, but somehow still holding up despite the neglect.

“Give it to me.” Remus spoke in a commanding tone, demanding return of his possession as if he was trying to pocket it. Severus handed the cypress wand with unicorn hair core back to its chosen owner. Severus stood up; instantly his knees and shins protested as he stumbled backwards. He masked his stagger as an abrupt turn, holding onto a wall for dear life. Severus granted Remus a modicum of privacy as he saved himself from falling over his asleep legs. It was his good fortune the cellar was really small, barely big enough for two men, much less a hulking werewolf.

Severus heard faint sound of rustling and Remus’ annoyed ‘hm’ as he presumably vanished his come and transfigured the cloak Severus borrowed him. He didn’t dare take a peek, not even when his gut told him to sneak a quick glance.

Only when he heard jostling of the paper package did Severus face Remus. Severus inspected the alteration charm’s stability. The cloak was now snugly draped around his body, it took on form of a classical black wizard’s robe. There was enough material for it to cover him up from head to toe. The Honeydukes care package was being looted by Remus, who munched absent-mindedly at the big tablet of chocolate.

It was fascinating how fast the werewolf metabolism worked. Or maybe it was just Remus’ own commendable grit and strength of will that kept his feet firmly planted on the stone floor.

Remus quickly burned through the stash of chocolate goods, tearing into them with hunger. Severus watched as the frown on that handsome face morphed into delightful grin. The much needed injection of endorphins were doing their work, then.

Only when everything from the package was gone had Remus raised his head up to scrutinize him. “I – thank you. For the chocolate. Your potions.” The unsaid thanks for keeping his word, for being here might not have been said out loud, but Severus had practice at deciphering covered up sentiments, especially coming from people he liked more than just casual associates.

Severus bowed his head slightly. “You don’t have to thank me.  I had somehow bungled up the efficacy and I apologize for the additional discomfort I may have caused you.” He was of course referencing the undesired side effect. Remus raised a brow at him.

“So, that wasn’t deliberate.”

“No! I would never drug you!”

“If I had a knut for every time you drugged me, I would have two knuts. It’s strange that it happened twice. I remember a certain incident that happened not that long ago…” Remus smirked, crumpling up the paper bag in his hands. He put the crinkled paper ball in Severus’ unsuspecting hand. “Throw it away for me.”

Severus swallowed the words of telling him off, that he wasn’t a garbage can, but Remus’ shit eating grin put a halt to that thought. He stashed the rumpled ball in the side pocket of his robes, out of sight and out of mind.

“Do you need any further assistance? I can take you back if you’d prefer side apparition?” He made a tentative offer, studying Remus’ expression closely. Remus seemed to be considering it and then he just shrugged. “Alright. I can’t wait to lay down and take a nap.”

“Wait. I need to grab these. Just a second.” Severus bent down to collect the empty vials and the jar, which was nearly depleted. He made a mental note to restock his shelves, brew and make some new stuff for when Remus might need his help again. It was better to be prepared than sorry.

Severus put everything away. He didn’t like littering and it would be a waste to leave perfectly fine glass vials of highest quality behind. Once he made sure nothing would fall and shatter accidentally, Severus held out his left hand. Remus grabbed on whilst he tried to keep exultant feeling of satisfaction under wraps.

They turned in place and the world around them shifted, changed.

With Remus out cold, lying in his bed in his own private rooms, Severus left him to sleep. The handy stalker map was sprawled on the coffee table in the main area. He looked over it briefly, but sadly he saw neither Black or Pettigrew anywhere in the Gryffindor tower or near the bordering places.

Disappointment washed off pretty quickly when he spotted five dots nearing his classroom. Puzzled by the additional three names that had no business being there outside of their scheduled classes, he paused, puzzled. Were they fighting or just bickering? Why didn’t this stupid map show exactly what everyone was doing?

Severus blanched suddenly, putting the paperweight (Remus’ carved kappa statuette) back on top of the yellowed parchment. It was a good thing the map didn’t show such enhanced details to anyone who knew how to use it. Severus stormed out of Remus’ residence in the faculty tower, scowling already.

His job was never done. Preventing and breaking up fights was a teacher’s job. Back then, not one adult saw the wrongness of what Potter and his posse were doing. Well, he aspired to do better than those before him. Now Severus was a professor and Head of Slytherin House, he had some authority at this school and he intended to protect his students.

For Potter’s sake, Severus hoped he could remain impartial long enough to just send him and Granger away with points deduced. Severus wondered what in seven hells was his son doing down in the chilled dungeons so early in the morning. He sped up, increasing his walking tempo.

Once he was in the familiar environment of his ‘territory’, Severus slowed down. He halted deliberately, hiding from the five thirteen year old teens. His back was glued to the wall. They were just around the corner, standing in the corridor that led toward his Potions classroom and the office in the back.

He peeked at them. Potter was pulling at Weasley’s hand, drawing him further from the other duo, Rafe and Draco. Granger was failing miserably at playing the mediator, talking their ears off about propriety and rules.

Severus chose that moment to make his presence known. He appeared before them, rounding the corner. As he approached them, Severus sneered at the Gryffindors. Potter froze up and he let go of Weasley’s wrinkled sleeve. “I have been expecting you, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Weasley. The rest of you go back to your commons. Now.”

“Why did you assign Ron together with that - that smirking scoundrel! You knew they couldn’t work together!” Potter dramatically pointed at Draco, who looked completely unbothered. It only irked the other teen more, of that he was sure.

Teenagers were quick to anger after all, even more so than adults. Potter senior had more creative adjectives in his repertoire. Black was only eager to outdo him with his own set of cruel nicknames. Severus reminisced (not so fondly) of the times he was being attacked in this very hallway, simply for existing. Bitterness rose in him. He was tired, emotionally and physically. He was running on two hours of sleep (he brewed fresh potions for Remus the whole night) and he last ate sixteen years ago. How exactly he was still upright was a mystery even to him.

Was it spite?

“- and Nott wasn’t even trying either!” Severus blinked, the vision of Potter’s father laughing with Black and Pettigrew fizzed out. In front of him stood Potter’s son with his former friend’s eyes, looking at him crossly, all red in the face.

Severus took a moment to ground himself. He was a thirty-three year old man and one of his tormentors was smelling the nightshades and violets six feet under, the other two were a nationally wanted criminal and a reportedly dead man. Severus felt like he got the last laugh after all.

“I don’t have to explain my reasons to a student, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger, if you would escort your friend back to Gryffindor tower. I have a detention to oversee.”

The girl nodded and she went over to literally fetch still fuming Potter, who continued to glare at him, Draco and Rafe like they they were all scheming together behind his back.

In truth, the mastermind schemer was his son, who for some reason only known to him wanted to matchmake Draco with Weasley.

Severus was tasked to arrange a place and setting for the youngest male Weasley and his godson to get better acquainted without their friends breathing down their necks.

Potter’s voice echoed in the empty halls, magnified by the acoustics. Once he was sure they were gone, he whirled around. “Mr. Lupin, I suggest you head back, too and catch up on some sleep.” How he longed to bury his face in a pillow and sleep for straight ten hours, without any interruptions or social obligations like showing up to eat in the Great Hall.

Rafe looked on, doubtfully. He probably knew from where he was coming and whom he left to rest and recuperate in the faculty tower. Doubtlessly, he had questions.

Questions that could wait. This task – a favor really was carried out at Rafe’s behest, so he’d better not hinder it with that notorious Hufflepuff nosiness. “Actually, can I talk to you… professor?” Rafe asked, his voice had a hint of nervousness, which was uncommon for the outspoken teen.

Was he really that worried about his father? Or was this about something unrelated? Severus resisted the creeping impulse to discreetly peer into Rafe’s mind. Invasion of privacy – especially that of someone bearing his beaky nose and lanky mop of raven hair didn’t sit well with him. Rafe had a right to keep his secrets and thoughts safe.

Feelings of emotional safety, fairness and that he mattered was denied him; Severus didn’t want the same for his own flesh and blood.

“Very well. Wait in front of my office. I will be by shortly, after I assign Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley their fitting punishment,” he said slowly, enjoying seeing Weasley’s profile, his brows knit together with unwarranted worry. It’s not like he would set the boy on a torture rack! Those practices were long outlawed (Filch was still inconsolable about never getting to use his unused collection of whips, fireplace pokers with Hogwarts logos emblazoned on the pointy tips, chains) and no matter what the students whispered behind his back, Severus was not a fan of rough play. Torture was not one of his pastimes, the malicious tongue wagging individuals should find a better hobby. Surely making him the villain at all costs had gotten old after so many years.

The spitting image of his younger self (except Remus’ eyes) beamed at him and he turned to leave the startled duo. Rafe waved at them, nearly skipping with joy. Severus never skipped in his life. Not even as a child. One could imagine how comical was the sight to Draco and the youngest Weasley boy.

“Let’s go. I have other appointments pending,” Severus uttered tersely.

The most pressing appointment was the one with his bed. Not even spite could keep him alert and up for much longer. Despite the unkind rumors that made the rounds around all four houses and even the staff, Severus wasn’t a vampire.

Draco and the Weasley boy dragged their feet toward the classroom, not even sparing a look between themselves as they trudged along, keeping sizable distance, too.

What was up with that entirely too forced coldness all of sudden. Severus narrowed his eyes at the suspiciously acting teens. What exactly did he interrupt before he sent Weasley’s friends off? Maybe Granger caught on to Rafe’s stratagem and she told Potter who reacted as Severus expected him to react, caustic and antagonistic.

Severus scowled harder as the world slightly swum and he had to hold onto the door for a moment longer than he would normally to clear up his swimming vision. Morgana, he needed some fucking sleep.

However, forces that be demanded he arranged this stupid detention, not to mention Rafe was waiting for him. Severus didn’t know how to be a father (yet), but not showing up when he was sought out wouldn’t endear him to his son.

He realigned himself, straightening his somewhat slumped posture. Severus whirled around and faced the pair, who wore matching expressions of creeping anxiety. They stood expectantly at their usual stations on either sides of classroom.

One would think he had devised some particularly vicious torture technique or something. Severus drew closer, but not too close. This detention was meant to bridge the gap between his godson and Weasley. The sooner he left them alone, the better. “Let’s get down to business gentlemen. You’re here because you’ve made a catastrophic mistake of Longbottom level disaster proportions. I think you need to be caught some discipline and patience. You’ll be working together on this and you’re not allowed to leave until you’re finished. I need fresh brains for tomorrow’s morning lesson with your Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff peers,” Severus brought out his wand briefly and a door in the back abruptly swung open. A whole army of frog heads (sealed in a huge jar) sailed through the air until it stopped directly on top of Draco’s workstation.

Both teens gaped at the jar, then at him as if he lost his marbles. Maybe he did. Or maybe he was just too exhausted to give a shit about finding them a less disgusting task for their first night of detention. Weasley’s hand shot up as if a lesson was still in session. Severus glowered at him. “Put your hand down you silly boy.”

Weasley stuck his arm out higher. “But sir, this is unsanitary. We don’t have gloves or tools. What if we contaminate the ingredients by accident?”

“Did you forget this is a punishment, Mr. Weasley? You’re to work on removing the brains with your hands and they must be intact. If you use magic to help with your tasks, I will know. I set up alarms around the classroom. Only I can undo them.” Severus lied smoothly, his eyes flitted between them as they looked at one another. They didn’t make a move to open the jar and get to working side by side on their joint arduous task. “I won’t be personally overseeing your detention on this evening. I am sure you can manage extracting brains on your own without me having to check your work periodically. However, if you choose to abscond and frolic around the castle without doing your assigned work, there will be further consequences for that dereliction. Once you’re done, you can leave and go back to your commons. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, professor Snape.”

Severus squinted at the teens some more moments before he turned on heel and marched out of his own classroom like his robes were set on fire.

He could only hope Weasley and Draco wouldn’t murder each other while he was away. Severus briskly walked further down the long corridor, trying to not stumble over his own feet.

By the door, Severus found him. Rafe had his hands stuffed in his pockets. He must have picked this habit up from Remus, he mused. When Rafe saw him approaching, he grinned mischievously.

Seeing his smile reminded Severus of his thirteen year old self, smiling at something funny Lily said to him. Sometimes, he still missed it. His childhood friend was no saint, neither is he; he knows that. But she didn’t deserve to die so young.

A hand was waved in front of his face. He blinked, disoriented at seeing the palm. “Are you alright, professor Snape? You look like you’re moments away from collapsing. Should I call for my grandma?” Rafe shot question after question, worry etched onto his youthful face.

Was he alright? When was the last time someone asked this silly question of him? It has been a long, long time, he thought sourly as his gaze fell on the concerned boy in front of him.  

“I’m fine.” He offered a fib so obvious that even a deaf person would call him out on his bullshit.

Rafe sighed. “You two are truly experts at dodging questions,” he muttered under his breath exasperatedly. Severus raised a bemused eyebrow at his son’s remark. Would it be so bad to show some vulnerability in front of Rafe, he wondered. They were still father and son, even if they were estranged. If he wanted to close the gap between strangers and becoming someone Rafe could trust and turn to when he needed help, advice or just a shoulder to cry on, Severus realized he had to stop hiding and just show him that he was just a very foolish, overworked and entirely too stressed out man in his thirties.

“I rescind that earlier statement. I am – not well.” Admitting to this felt like he jumped over a gaping, bottomless ravine with barely sticking the landing. His stomach churned with unease as he watched Rafe’s expression twist from doubt to panic.

“Did you get bitten?!” Rafe exclaimed deafeningly loud in the corridor swathed in silence, his worry made his voice a few octaves higher than usual as he came up to him. Rafe frenetically looked him over for any obvious puncture wounds, he was searching for cuts and tears on his clothes. Severus would have been touched by the sudden care if it weren’t for that wrong assumption.

“No, your father – Remus was himself when I found him. I helped him and then we came back to Hogwarts. I am not feeling well because I’m exhausted. That’s all,” Severus told him the unbridled truth and the teen’s hands dropped down.

“Oh, I see. That’s great that you’re both alright. I uhm, I just wanted to discuss something with you regarding a potion, but it can wait until later. Can I stop by your office in the afternoon?” Rafe asked him, sounding all polite and somewhat nervous out of the blue.

He made no plans for today outside of having a long date with his pillow and soft mattress. Severus had done the mental mathematics. If Rafe wanted to see him, he would make the time for him. Though, not in this very moment.

Severus reached out and he touched the soft raven hair. Rafe looked up at him with those big doe – like brown eyes. “I’ll have tea ready around 4 pm in my living quarters. I will provide refreshments.”

“A hangout! That would be awesome! Thank you fath- professor.” The mess – up  and subsequent correction were hard to miss, even when he was on the verge of an very unpleasant collapse. Severus’ lips formed a smile inadvertently.

“There’s no need to get so excited. Many other castle occupants wouldn’t look forward to tea time with someone like me.” He remarked, tousling the black locks of hair and Rafe huffed, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he looked flustered. Was he embarrassed by the show of affection or was it because of that almost Freudian slip? It was anyone’s guess, though Severus hoped that at least one Lupin was ready to open his heart to him.

Rafe shook his head. “But you’re brilliant! You’re one of the best brewers in Britain, hell, maybe even worldwide. I have read your publications, though don’t tell dad about it. The first collaboration with that Belby fellow was extensive, but concise. I liked your witty explanations of the experiments and the final result on the study of Wolfsbane Potion helped werewolves worldwide. You’re a living legend among brewers!”

Severus was by no means (too) prideful, but the enthused rant from his son made him pause. If these were his real feelings toward him, then why did Rafe keep up the hostility on their first Potions class of the school term?

No, it had everything to do with his major mistake committed all those years ago, when Rafe was still just a bunch of cells inside Remus’ stomach.

He knew that earning back trust once squandered would take time. Severus awkwardly lifted his right hand from the thoroughly messy bird’s nest of his own making, though Rafe didn’t seem to mind his hairstyle was ruined.

“I have wanted to talk for a while, too. You can tell me about your life in Brazil and more about yourself, about your hobbies and friends you made there. I will answer any questions you might have if it’s within my capabilities and within reason.” Severus suggested, his tone tinged with optimism.

Unexpectedly, the teen’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas. He tugged excitedly at his sleeve and Severus’ heart ached at the thought of too many missed holidays with the Lupins. He’s missed so many great and small events and moments. He vowed that he will never again spent Christmas alone in his cold chambers.

“I’m looking forward to 4 pm suddenly,” Rafe chuckled, rubbing his neck in the same fashion as Remus did whenever he was too excited about something. Severus caught himself smiling fondly at the memory. He wiped the sappy look off his face before Rafe could spot it (thank Merlin, what would become of his reputation otherwise) and he confirmed the spontaneous tea appointment with a simple nod.

“Likewise. I didn’t have many reasons to invite someone over for tea and cakes before after I became a member of the staff here,” Severus admitted to himself and to his son, who continued to gawk at him like he grew another head. Rafe, however cleared his throat abruptly, as if something large was stuck there.

“I hope you’ll have us over frequently.”

He acquiesced to that notion with a somewhat wistful stare, looking at a spot on the wall behind Rafe’s shoulders.

“One can only hope. But I digress. Rafe, do you want to floo back to the Hufflepuff common room? I can open the network for you. It’s no trouble.”

Rafe looked unsure, but then he shrugged after he gave it some more deliberation. “Sure, I don’t wanna bump into those two making out somewhere,” he made a snarky comment.

How odd that Rafe didn’t want to witness the fruits of his labor with his own eyes. Although, Severus had no desire to see Draco and Weasley mimicking dementors (clumsy ones at that) sucking at each other’s faces without restraint.

Severus unlocked his office with a nonverbal charm and the two of them slipped in, the nippy, chilly air made them both shudder involuntary. He walked up to the fireplace (Rafe was right behind him, still shaking from the cold) and he relit the flames with a flick of his wrist. It was a useful trick Minerva taught him in the first year of teaching.

Reaching up on the mantelpiece, he pinched some of the whitish powder from the dispenser. Severus threw it into the flames which turned green. “Hufflepuff common room, Hogwarts!” He spoke clearly and Rafe stepped right in, minding his head. The flames swallowed up his frame. About two seconds later, Rafe was gone from Severus’ cool office.

Green gradually dyed back into oranges and reds. Severus let the flames burn for now. Tiredly, he shuffled outside of the stuffy, too cold office and he locked the door again, though this time with a key.

The small keychain rattled while he walked the short distance to the fork in the hallway. Three minutes later, Severus crumpled on his bed, fully dressed and uncaring. He pulled the covers over himself, turning to lay on his side facing the wall lined with books.

What a tumultuous day has it been! It’s not even time for breakfast yet. As he (at last) lay in his bed, Severus mulled over the events of this very hectic, psychologically draining morning. It came to him (rather belatedly at that) that he forgot to sneakily do a surface read of Weasley’s mind. Nor did he ask Rafe about the ‘pet’ he might have seen. Hopefully that ratty individual will stay put; so far they have done nothing that gave away he and Remus knew of Pettigrew’s continued survival.

Severus groaned into his pillow.

He still needed to see Poppy and Severus just knew that she would be most opposed to forgiving him. Severus didn’t blame her for the lingering animosity. The devastation he caused that day wasn’t over yet. Not for Poppy and Remus. They had lost their old lives on the night of that alumni party. But, by stroke of serendipity, Severus was given a chance to fix the mess he made.

He closed his heavy eyelids, sighing softly in the darkness. His hair spilled on the pillow around him, keeping his neck protected from the worst of ever present chills of the dungeons.

Severus’ family came back to him and while shadows of Pettigrew and Black loomed nearby, hiding in the shadows, Severus wasn’t overly concerned about what their reappearance could mean for his semi – peaceful life.

All the players were assembled on the board; the lethal game of guile and wills could start in the earnest.

Chapter Text

Remus awoke, startled by the insistent knocking on his door. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, so he didn’t bother getting up. He knew they would come, but he didn’t know when. Judging by the darkness permeating from the windows, Remus estimated he missed out on most of the Saturday.

How much did he sleep? Over twelve hours, possibly more, he estimated dourly as his ears picked up on two pairs of shoes clicking along the floor, trudging close to his bed.

Blearily, Remus squinted as the duvet was lifted off him. Fortunately, his modesty was preserved as he was dressed in his pajamas, he even had socks on.

So, Snape had seen him bare, thought at this point it hardly mattered. At the very least Snape didn’t leave him wrapped up in that transfigured cloak.

He sat up, noting that for the first time in over twelve years, he woke up without any pains accompanying his post-transformation. Remus wiggles his fingers and toes.

The potions and salves worked better than expected. Bones and muscles didn’t break nor hurt when he moved his limbs, so Remus assumed that there wouldn’t arise any additional complications such as fractures nor pulled muscles.

It was such a surreal feeling, to not have to worry about accidentally dislocating his shoulder or Merlin forbid throw out his back with a simple movement. Poppy’s aid has been invaluable over the course of their stay in Brazil, but the fact was that she wasn’t primarily a professional brewer and other potioneers had paled in comparison with Snape’s brewing skills and expertise.

If it wasn’t for his potions, Remus would be bedridden for the whole weekend, maybe even Monday, too. He owed Snape a great deal. Even if he volunteered his help and time for making all those potions for him, Remus felt like he should…thank him. For caring, in spite of how he behaved when the Lupins came to Hogwarts.

Gratitude would inevitably force him to swallow his pride and make an attempt to… to what? Try being with him? Throw caution to the four winds and hope that Snape won’t devise a cruel scheme to ‘spare him from pain’ at the earliest sighting of a little trouble, again?

He couldn’t handle another fallout.

Poppy suddenly reached out and pressed her palm to Remus’ forehead, measuring his temperature. She clicked her tongue. “You’re not running a fever. That’s good. How do you feel Remus?” She sat down on the bed next to him while Rafe went to the kitchenette.

“I feel fine,” he replied off-handedly and Poppy raised a brow. “Really. I slept like a log.”

Rafe poked around in the kitchen isle, but that didn’t stop him from chiming into the ongoing conversation. “I’d say! You missed breakfast and lunch, dad. It’s actually almost time for supper. Grandma and I have come to fetch you.”

So, he slept definitely more than twelve hours. Remus rose up and he ambled to the kitchen isle to grab a glass of water from Rafe. He thanked his son, who had in the meantime retreated to stand next to the door.

As Remus was drinking the freezing cold, but oddly refreshing water, Poppy and Rafe had excused themselves, saying they’ll wait for him outside so that they could go to the Great Hall together. Remus noticed the split second hesitation on Rafe’s face before he backed out of Remus’ room.

Remus knew his son had something weighing on his mind; and he also knew that Rafe will tell him whenever he’s ready, which could be as soon as he left his private dwelling.

He placed the empty glass on the kitchen counter, scurrying in haste to the wardrobe to change into a more fitting attire.

Immediately after Remus got out from his rooms, Poppy pinned him with a critical look, assessing him like he was a highly uncooperative patient. “Your cheeks aren’t gaunt and you’re not slouching. I suppose Snape is Hogwarts Potions Master for a reason,” she commented flatly.

Remus bit into his tongue to stop himself from defending the man. Poppy had encouraged him to ‘follow his heart’ and see how it goes, but her stance on Snape hadn’t changed. If anything, Poppy’s dislike of Snape had only grown deeper.

He wondered what Snape did to upset her so much in the short span of time when he was out of it.

“Dad, I’ve something to tell you.” Rafe piped out of the blue and Remus looked at him.

“Surely whatever you want to tell me can wait after dinner?” Remus questioned his nervous son, who kept throwing glances at Poppy, who in turn scoffed.

“Don’t look at me young man. You got involved in this mess, now you’d better come clean on your own,” Poppy chided him, and then she started walking. She glimpsed behind her shoulder, addressing them both: “I’m going ahead. I need to have a chat with Dumbledore.”

The way she said ‘chat’ implied it won’t be pleasant; but then again there was nothing pleasant about being polite to that old coot.

Remus and Rafe watched her vanish behind the corner with differing expressions of discomfort. “Well, your grandmother left. It’s just us here in this corridor. What’s so urgent it cannot wait?”

“I don’t know where to start,” Rafe mumbled, looking flabbergasted.

“Maybe start from the beginning?”

Rafe looked at both ends of the corridor before he conspiratorially moved a bit closer. Remus, now wondering what earth-shattering news could be troubling him so much. He was starting to worry, too.

“I had tea with professor Snape in his office. We had talked about potions for a while and our shared interest in, well, brewing. Our conversation shifted into our family situation and my friends I made here since we came. Uh, look dad. I know this may sound weird, but professor Snape asked me about Ron’s pet rat. He asked about its whereabouts and I told him that I had last seen that rat when I was with Draco and Ron. I was teasing them and – that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that I overheard Ron and that girl with crimped hair arguing loudly during breakfast this morning. Apparently the girl’s kneazle killed Ron’s rat. Only a bunch of hair and bloodied sheets were left behind as the only proof.”

Remus listened to Rafe’s frenzied story, locking into the particulars of the traitor’s supposed death. Pettigrew wouldn’t let himself get eaten by some magical cat; he’s not that dumb. He would transform back to his human form, if only to save his sorry hide.

If he was to guess, then the rat faked his demise so he could keep a low profile. Black was coming for him; Pettigrew had to know that. The whole country and even the muggle world were on high alert because he escaped from prison. What if Pettigrew had learned somehow that he got hold of the stalker map? Right now, he may be hiding behind the bound of the map’s enchantment, somewhere where Remus couldn’t see him.

This didn’t bode well. If Pettigrew truly was hiding, what hope did they have of finding him now? Their only lead to learning the truth was Black himself, until the rat emerged from his hidey hole.

Remus wasn’t thrilled by the news Rafe broke to him, but he recalled how mad Poppy was at Rafe and Snape earlier. He crossed arms and sternly looked down at his son. “That can’t be everything. What else happened?” He inquired.

He was a tad shocked when Rafe gazed at him somberly. “I know the rat is Pettigrew, he’s the backstabbing sycophant. Professor Snape said the biggest part aurors found when he had been ‘brutally murdered’ by Black was a finger. Last I saw the rat, his front paw was missing a finger. It’s really him. But if he’s still alive, then Black is coming back for revenge.”

Poppy was right to be mad at Snape for telling him too much. Rafe was smarter than the average wizarding child; and twice as much prone to snooping around. He held onto Rafe. “If the Weasley boy ever asked for your aid in finding his missing pet, I want you to deflect and lie. Tell him the rat is dead. The less he knows, the better. Pettigrew and Black are dangerous on their own, but if those two ever meet face to face, they won’t care who may be in the vicinity. Last time twelve innocent muggles died just because they were crossing the street. Rafe, promise me you won’t get involved. Promise me.”

He felt sick just thinking of those scenarios where Rafe got caught up between those two deranged assholes, just because he was loyal to his friend.

“Alright! Alright. Dad, I promise I’ll stay away from Black and Pettigrew. I’ll keep my nose out of that sordid business and I’ll leave it to you and my other father. Now, can you please let go? My arms are going numb,” Rafe exclaimed sheepishly, glancing downward. Remus had unconsciously squeezed Rafe’s arms.

He immediately let go, aghast and mad at himself for losing control over his emotions. The full moon might have passed, but the beastly alter ego was still around, skulking in the dark corners of his mind. It, just like Remus worried about Rafe. Or, that’s what he liked to believe. Rafe was born of him and the werewolf acted on its primal instincts.

“Shit. Did I hurt you?” Remus cursed his strength.

Rafe moved his arms, demonstrating he wasn’t hurt. “Nope, I’m okay. I know you’re worried about me, dad. I’m also worried for you. We all worry about you. Grandma and I… and professor Snape is beside himself with worry. We all fear that once Black and Pettigrew appear before you, you’ll do something brash.”

“I want answers only they can provide. I may rough them up a bit, but I wouldn’t kill them.” A few broken fingers or cracked ribs wouldn’t get him thrown into prison, he mused.

“Dad, be careful. Many eyes are watching us, our family.” Rafe urged him to exercise caution and Remus reciprocated his worry with tousling Rafe’s hair.

“I’ll be vigilant. Now, what do you say we go and eat? I’m so hungry I could eat an Abraxan!” Remus performed advanced locking charms on the door leading to his rooms and then he sauntered over to the staircase, keeping up a brisk walking tempo, but not too fast, so that Rafe could catch up.

At the centrall hall, they were met with an obstacle. It was Mr. Filch and from the look on his face, Remus guessed he was pissed off. The caretaker approached them, with an accusatory finger poking his chest. “How dare you break into my office! Even if you’re a teacher now, you’ve no right to do that! Professor Snape had graciously fixed the damage you’ve caused, but I’m not so easily mollified. In all my years here, I’ve never been so disrespected! Apologize! This instant or –“

“Or you’ll do what, old timer? Tell on me? You think the old fart cares about any of his staff? Mr. Filch, I dare say that Dumbledore couldn’t care less about settling disputes. He’s here to maintain his influence over the british wizarding community.”

Filch humphed, crossing his arms over his chest in silent rage. His face was turning redder by the second. Remus didn’t want to deal with this anymore, especially since in his haste he had done something which he normally wouldn’t.

“I admit I did something I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry for breaking into your office by force. I won’t do it again and since Snape had mended the door and took care of the mess, there was ultimately no lasting damage to the property, was there?”

“Your apology lacks sincerity, but what can I expect from –“

Remus narrowed his eyes at the old man in front of him. “What can one expect from a werewolf? Was that what you meant to say, Mr. Filch?” He commented, his voice was dripping with scorn.

“I was going to say what can one expect from a former hooligan. You and that band of misfits made me go gray prematurely!”

Well, he was right; his ‘friends’ were infamous for their often malicious pranks on the staff, particularly Filch and the herbology teacher were their targets when they were younger. Then, their pranks shifted toward students, toward Slytherins.

Toward Snape.

Well, his train of thought took a sour turn. Those memories could stay locked away forever; he’s never again conforming to bullies just so he could stay in their good graces.

“Mr. Filch, what is going on?” None other than McGonagall was coming from the direction that lead to the greenhouses. She stopped in the middle, seemingly ready to diffuse the situation.

“It’s nothing, professor.” Filch replied sullenly as he stepped away and took off.

McGonagall sighed. “Are you two alright?”

Why wouldn’t they be? That small argument was already settled. Remus glanced at Rafe.

“If you’ll excuse us, professor,” Remus incrementally bowed his head, just enough to be polite in his dismissal. He had no desire to spend time with her. She had Dumbledore’s ear and she was most likely talking to him in the first place because of the headmaster and his worries that Remus wasn’t quite so easy to control anymore.

As he and Rafe swiftly took their leave of the Gryffindor House Head, Remus thought of the past, when he still thought no one harbored any ulterior motives when they showed him compassion.

Well, he no longer was a boy who idolized Albus Dumbledore for giving a bitten child the same opportunity as he would have given to anyone who wasn’t a lycanthrope. Remus’ eyes weren’t blinded by gratitude nor erroneous loyalty.

They came to the Great Hall and from the looks of it, most of the students and staff had long finished with the meal. Rafe immediately made a beeline for the Hufflepuff table and Remus continued forth toward the grand table. He noted that aside from Snape and professors Burbage, Vector and Sinistra there was no one else present.

The three female professors seemed to be locked into a fervent discussion and so they barely registered his presence as he walked past them on the way to his seat.

Snape greeted him with a nod and Remus took his seat, reaching for the spoon. He threw a side glance at his dining companion. The red abnormality woven into his long braid was still very much present. Seeing his old gift being put to use again by Snape was still weird, even knowing that Snape still loves him deeply.

Remus couldn’t keep his gaze off him for long; the beast in him ached to be close to Snape and Remus himself felt inexorably drawn to the man. He couldn’t forget that thanks to Snape’s expertise he’s not bedridden.

He swallowed the piece of bread and thick beef broth thoughtfully, knowing that Snape was watching him. This was ridiculous. Why are they acting like lovesick teenagers?! Remus was too old to be pining like a schoolboy with his first crush! He forced himself to look up and their eyes met; Snape’s onyx eyes burned with wonder, with want.

Remus felt his throat dry up from the intense, heated stare Snape was giving him. He reached for the cup with water and he chugged it down, wetting his parched throat. Why was he feeling so nervous?

Maybe now would be a good time to extend his thanks, Remus thought, getting distracted by Snape’s expression once more. He looked like he was moments away from whisking him away for a private rendezvous.

“Your help this morning was appreciated. Usually the lingering pain takes a lot out of me. That I’m up and about is a testament of your talent. I am very grateful for your assistance.”

There, he said it. It didn’t cost him anything and judging from the astounded expression on Snape’s face, he didn’t expect a vocal assertion of thanks, either. He had recovered quickly though, schooling his expression into a more settled version of his casual poker face.

“It was no trouble, Remus. You’re important to me and I won’t see you suffer needlessly. Which brings me to my next inquiry. Remus, I know you dislike the idea of taking Wolfsbane, but it’s safe and you won’t be dangerous to others nor yourself. Will you consider taking it next month? I will of course provide you with potions, to speed up your recovery.”

Remus thought about it, seriously considering the pros and cons. If it could prevent injuries altogether, then there was little to think about. Snape was a true master of his craft; he read about the Wolfsbane Potion being praised by the International Potioneer Association after Snape and his collaborator Belby have proven it was perfected and safe for consumption. Although brewing it was a bit problematic due to the scarcity and high cost of ingredients, not to mention actually making it required incredible talent. It wasn’t something that any apprentice could pull off and Snape is definitely the best brewer in Great Britain and possibly numbering among the elite potioneers worldwide.

Rejecting such a courteous offer, after he witnessed Snape’s ingenuity and ability for himself this morning would be quite stupid of him.

He believed him. Because Snape was trying and damn it, Remus was subconsciously rooting for him! Since he came back to England – to Hogwarts, Snape has shown him his sincerity.

If they were to reconcile, what would it mean for the Lupins? Did anything have to change? Rafe already spent some time alone with Snape and he didn’t seem uncomfortable. Poppy only wished for Remus’ happiness and she had obliquely implied that she would defer to his decision.

“Remus, did I make you uncomfortable? You’ve gotten quiet. I didn’t mean to pressure you,” Snape said in a low tone, which sounded incredibly intimate to Remus’ ears.

He shook his head, resuming with eating the hearty broth. Between bites, he slanted closer into Snape’s personal space. “The benefits outweigh my old misgivings. I read the paper; Rafe left it lying around the house. I think he did it to let me know you didn’t mean to use me as your baby machine. What I’m saying is that I agree to drink that foul, dragon piss and hippogriff shit tasting concoction. I’ll take the potion next month.”

Under the table, Snape had placed his palm atop Remus’ thigh. The gesture was gentle, but the feelings that casual touch stirred were of a more primitive nature. He smelled how the familiar, forceful scent of sexual desire was about to hit his sensitive nose, it emanated from Snape and from Remus himself.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t. Let’s finish up here. I want to speak with you.” Remus said, suggestively touching Snape’s foot with his own.

Snape almost coyly nodded and Remus, staving off his lust for as long as possible wolfed down his portion and the bread. In a few moments, they’ll be on each other. Remus vehemently ignored Renzo’s smug voice inside his head, telling him how he foresaw this happening.

His prophecies had 100% accuracy rate and Remus tried to convince himself it wasn’t going to happen. But now after he knew Snape’s real motive for that display of cruelty and deceit, it was becoming hard to stay indifferent and hateful.

Just like moon, the pitiless mistress would come and claim him once a month, Remus knew he was fighting a losing battle against himself.

He and Snape are getting back together. Remus didn’t think that he was capable of forgiving such a serious transgression, but here he was years later, about to forgive and move on with their lives; with Snape as his lover once more.

Remus glanced at him. “I can’t wait to get you alone,” he whispered and Snape choked on the apple juice he was sipping. His cheeks colored slightly, as Remus projected forward filthy thoughts of what he wanted to do for the night. There would be no sleeping allowed, not until they couldn’t move a finger.

Satisfied with the incentive (and ideas) he had given to Snape, Remus watched him sputter and cough until his airways were clear. Snape massaged his throat, glaring at the three female colleagues who giggled excessively. “Remus, let’s go back to your rooms. They’re more convenient and you won’t risk catching hypothermia in the upper level of castle.”

Snape was right; he was prone to getting sick after a moonlit night. Having a nurse godmother helped immensely, but so far not even magic had figured out an instantaneous solution to extremities such as insufficient heat or the opposite; overheating.

“Alright,” he acquiesced, standing up and the chair scraped the stone floor. Snape got up just as fast and the two of them went to the side door, which was less noticeable, but getting back to the staff tower would take them longer.

He didn’t worry about Rafe; he had left already with a large group of Hufflepuffs. The corridor they were treading through was dark and torches, positioned on the walls did little to keep them properly illuminated, borrowing the connecting hallway a dour atmosphere.

They were passing by big windows and Remus casually halted to peer at the night sky. In the great distance he could see the mass of blackness that was the Black Lake and a bit further away was the Forbidden Forest. The highest trees swayed precariously against the gusty winds.

A black shadow was standing under the giant beech tree. Snape, who was standing to his left gasped. Remus grit his teeth.

It was unmistakably Sirius Black. His suspicion was further proven to be right when his body shape changed to resemble a big, scruffy blob of darkness.

He wasn’t alone; some other animal was with him, but from such a great distance even Remus’ eyes couldn’t make out much. On top of that, it was too dark outside.

Snape suddenly grabbed his palm. “Let’s go, before he’s gone.”

“I need to face him alone.” Remus remarked somewhat coolly, but he felt anything but composed.

“No. I’m going with you. Black was a crazy bastard in the past, but who knows what prolonged exposure to dementors did to him? I’m going with you, Remus.”

His eyes were glued on the two shadowy animals. Who knew how long Black would stay in that spot? Arguing would get them nowhere and Snape was always excellent at self-defense. Black might have stolen a wand and while Remus was certain he could hold his own in a real battle, he didn’t want to underestimate his opponent. The results of such underestimation could be fatal and Remus had much to live for. Rafe. Poppy.

Also, he had him.

He looked at Snape, who was waiting for his response; the previous excitement had long evaporated from the both of them, it was replaced by foreboding tension.

Remus knew he shouldn’t tempt fate and just accept Snape’s offer of help.

“Let’s go then, before he’s gone!”

Snape surprised him momentarily when he took the lead, rushing past him at a startling speed. Remus took a deep breath and he trailed after him.

He hoped that Black would still be there when they arrived.

Several minutes later, they made it outside and they immediately slapped on warming charms so they wouldn’t freeze to death. The temperature was steadily dropping, bit by bit.

Remus brandished his wand, preparing himself mentally for a grueling fight. “Is he still there?” Snape asked.

The weather conditions weren’t favorable; a fog was rolling in from the south and it would cover most of the school grounds, including the area with the lake and the tree.

His nose was however much harder to trick. Remus utilized his sense of smell, sniffing the air for clearer clues. An acrid stench of an unwashed body and a wet dog permeated his nostrils. In was mixed a faint animal smell of a feline, probably male.

“They’re still there. Let’s flank him from both sides. If he has a wand, disarm him.” He suggested, watching as Snape accepted the suggestion without questions; he weaved through the school grounds, taking the leftmost route by the lake shore. Remus took the remaining path that cut through the grassy field.

He could smell the dog and the other animal stronger with each taken step as he was encroaching onto their meeting spot. He didn’t know whether Black could see him, but his nose must be still working. Surely he knows to expect them to crash that clandestine meeting.

Maybe he was even hoping Remus would come out and confront him. Whatever the case may be, he would find out soon enough.

As he drew closer to the beech tree, something cat-shaped leapt at him and Remus instinctually dodged the attack. From up close, he recognized the animal because he has seen it wandering around the castle. It was a kneazle, hissing as its fur bristled.

Behind the huge tree trunk appeared a fluffy, black dog. Remus aimed his wand at the dog, who regarded him for a few seconds. “Black.” He said, with as much hatred as he could muster.

The dog yipped and then it shifted to its real human form. The Black from his memory was a dashing man, whose looks could bag him any woman he desired. Now, Black could barely convince an alley whore to take pity on him. He was dressed in torn prison garb, too thin and unpractical for the charming British climate.

Black used to work out regularly and he was quite muscular. That muscle definition was all but gone now. He was so thin that Remus wondered if a stronger gust of wind would knock Black over.

It was Black’s face that took the brunt of the incarceration. There was gray now in his shoulder length hair and the unkempt, wild beard covered more than sixty percent of his face. He was undistinguishable from any other homeless man on the streets of London. Remus however didn’t feel any sympathy for this man, who had used him and then abandoned him at the earliest opportunity, when he stopped being a convenient monthly distraction.

Black and Potter made the choice to distrust him and they had both paid the price for that.

“Remus. Long time no see,” Black said amiably, extending a hand that he expected Remus to shake.

“Don’t be so disgustingly familiar with me, Black. Last time we met you've shown your true colors,” Remus retorted icily, hoping his tone conveyed all the accumulated hatred over the years.

Already pale due to the unrelenting winds blowing right at his face, Black’s face has gone completely whitish. “Moony, I’m sorry. Peter was the traitor. We thought it was you, everyone in the Order told us to be wary of you. If only James and I didn’t listen to their lies-“

Memories of that alumni party overflowed on the surface, bleeding into the present. His friends have never seen him as their equal, he was their pet project of sorts, he was their source of entertainment.

They had likely ‘adopted’ Pettigrew into their friend group for the same reason. Black and Potter didn’t need them as friends, they were accepted by them to make those seven years more bearable.

Remus, at thirty-three realized there was never any brotherhood between the four of them; he was their dangerous pet. It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if Dumbledore asked them to watch him closely. What better place to do it than from a close position of a fake comradeship?

He saw red, all reason was gone and Remus’ body moved of its own volition. His fist connected with that bastard’s cheek. He noted with satisfaction how the force behind his blow had sent Black flying a few meters before he crash landed onto the muddy ground, futher staining his prison attire.

That feline companion of Black’s leapt at him again and Remus growled warningly, the beast in him awoke from slumber. The meddling kneazle backed off and mewed in fright. It ran off toward the quidditch pitch.

A reassuring, grounding hand squeezed his shoulder and Remus looked at Snape. “Remus. Black is knocked out cold. We can tie him up and you can interrogate him, somewhere out of sight.”

All of that illogical ferocity dispersed when he saw Snape through the berserk-like daze. He stood calmly with him, unflinching and resolute. He must have looked beastly, but Snape didn’t falter. He moved even closer and Remus breathed in the old-new scent he had missed so much all those years.

Remus willed himself to calm down. The beast, once unleashed didn’t want to fade into the background again, but Remus pushed it back firmly, reclaiming the reins over his body and reason.

Snape’s expression softened, stepping aside.

Together they scrutinized the prone figure covered in grime and filth. There was no telling when he’d wake up and Remus would rather move him away from the vicinity of the castle. The dementors might have sensed something; they’d best move him quickly.

It was Snape who had immobilized and tied up the unconscious man and he navigated Black’s body with a handy Mobilicorpus charm. “Are we going to the Shack? The Whomping Willow is near.”

He felt like there was no better option. Dumbledore couldn’t be trusted and they could be spotted moving Black to either his or Snape’s offices. The place which he loathed and hoped to never visit again was their only safe hideout.

“It’s remote and derelict enough for our purpose. No one will look for us there,” Remus surmised unhappily.

“I hate that place, too, Remus,” Snape added sourly, moving his wand like a conductor’s baton, floating Black ahead of them. Remus glanced at the sky.

No dementors were in sight; but who knew when those depraved creatures would notice Black’s presence?

Remus and Snape hurried along to the lone Whomping Willow, eager to be out of sight. Black’s body was held up by the levitation charm, floating about fifteen centimeters above the ground.

The confrontation with the violent pugilistic tree was rather anti-climactic as Remus hurled a pebble at the bump located on its wide, gnarled root. The willow froze up, revealing a passage leading past its massive trunk. He exchanged a brief glance with Snape; then they delved into the darkened depths.

“Lumos!” Remus illuminated the path forward, minding his step as the passage was slippery, the walls were covered up in moss.

The form of still unconscious Black soared creepily in front of them both while Snape was in the middle, making sure he didn’t give Black a concussion.

They needed Black to tell them what happened exactly on the night the Potters died, if only to bring closure to their deaths.

Because, Remus used to love Lily and James, before they let him down so badly.

The tunnel was long; neither men said anything as the turmoil inside their hearts was so overwhelming. It felt like that turmoil had gained a gravitational pull of sorts, making them push on despite the unrest present in them.