WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.
Title: A Quiet Evening
Author: MusIgneus
E-Mail: musigneus@hushmail.com
Blog: http://www.livejournal.com/users/musigneus/
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Follows A Short Measure, Nightmare, A Cure for Dreams, Walk the Black Path, The Tilting Earth, and Water Therapy. A short interlude. Many thanks to tarnationawaits for betaing.
Category: Drama/Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters and concepts are the creations of J. K. Rowling. The following story is for nonprofit, entertainment purposes only.
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Severus picked up a bottle of firewhiskey, wondering if he dared drink enough to stop thinking. His hand clenched around the bottle as the couple in the photo on the front of the Evening Prophet waved, smiling cheerfully up at him.
He filled his glass. After all, he no longer had to worry about being drunk and unexpectedly receiving a summons from the Dark Lord. His hand trembled, and only the thought that he might want the remaining contents kept him from hurling the bottle into the fire. Yes, he no longer had to worry about being summoned - he could stay here, safe at Hogwarts. Safe, and useless.
He scowled as a knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. Setting the glass and bottle down sharply, he crossed the room and wrenched the door open, prepared to verbally flay the offender for disturbing him. The heated words died on his tongue when he saw who was waiting in the corridor. "Lupin?" he said.
He received a tired smile in reply. "Severus. Can I come in? For a few minutes?"
Wordlessly, Severus stepped back and let Remus pass into the sitting room. He watched as Remus dropped into Severus's favorite chair, the one closest to the fire, and leaned back, closing his eyes. Severus took the other chair, wondering what Remus wanted. "I thought you were meeting Potter tonight."
Tiny lines appeared next to Remus's eyes. "I was. He didn't want to talk to me."
Rage ignited in Severus's chest. "That ungrateful brat-"
Remus's eyes opened, and he managed a strained smile. "No, it's not like that, Severus. He just... he's just not ready to talk to me yet.” He sighed. "Actually, it's preferable to the yelling I expected."
Severus realized his fingers were white on the arms of the chair and forced himself to sit back.
"I don't remember seeing you drink before, Severus. Does this mean your day wasn't much better than mine?” Remus inquired.
Severus pushed the Evening Prophet across the table. Remus glanced down, then frowned. "He looks familiar..."
"Derrick. Slytherin Beater. He would have been unremarkable in your class. Married straight out of Hogwarts.” Severus didn't look down, not wanting to see the burly boy beaming at the heavily pregnant girl tucked under his arm, but Remus picked up the paper and scanned the article.
"Why, though?” Remus asked when he reached the end.
Severus sneered. "An object lesson in the consequences of refusal, I expect.” He snatched his glass off the table, then stared at the sloshing liquid. "Young fool," he said bitterly.
Remus laid the paper down, folding it to hide the photo of the dead couple. "Severus..."
"The Weasleys - Granger - I traded the Derricks' lives for theirs, Lupin. And I don't know how many more.” He set his glass back down and slumped, uncharacteristically, head resting on his hands. “It's over. I couldn’t convince the Dark Lord to accept me back now if I took him Potter's head on a platter.”
Remus waited quietly until Severus spoke again.
"However little I was able to learn, it was all we had. How many more have I condemned? Albus-" Severus's voice broke slightly. "Albus said he couldn't tell me if I had made the right decision, only the only possible one.” He laughed mirthlessly, then fell silent.
Remus watched Severus’s face, pale and drawn in the firelight. He thought he understood, in some ways, the turmoil the other man was feeling; Remus did, after all, have more experience than most at redefining his life when circumstances forced him to it. He only hoped Severus could adapt, unlike Sirius... Remus shivered once, then spoke. "Severus - I don't know if there was a right decision. Your information was invaluable, true, but you had already reported that Voldemort was letting you learn less and less. Surely the risk to you was becoming increasingly less worthwhile. And you did save several lives by acting as you did that night.” Honesty compelled him to add, “But I don't have an unbiased viewpoint, you know. After all, I'm not sorry to be alive."
Severus turned burning eyes on him. "No thanks to me, Lupin. If I hadn't slipped, you would never have endangered yourself coming after me."
"No, I would have been cornered in Arthur's shed, trapped and slaughtered like an animal."
"What?"
"I was there, Severus. I thought you knew."
Severus shook his head.
"Albus sent me to stay at the Burrow that night. For safety.” Remus's lips twitched at Severus's snort. "If you hadn't come to warn them - us - I would still have been locked in the shed when the Death Eaters arrived. Instead, Charlie let me out and I ran away.” He didn't know. Will he think I deserted him, or blame me for not rescuing him sooner, now that he knows? He swallowed hard. "I didn't know you... I only went back to make sure the Death Eaters were gone before the Weasleys returned. I smelled blood-"
Severus's face was white.
"I'm sorry, Severus! I should have come sooner," Remus whispered.
Severus shook himself out of a horrified vision of a massive wolf, sprawled bleeding on the ground, morphing into Remus, pale and still. "No... no. I'm grateful you came at all.” And suddenly, he realized, he was. "I am not sorry to be alive either. And I do not regret not having to go back to the Dark Lord. I simply cannot tolerate being a prisoner here, able to contribute nothing. I am now useless, just like Bla-” He broke off, looking apprehensively at Remus.
Remus's voice was very even when he replied. "I think perhaps Sirius is a topic we had best avoid for now, Severus."
Severus gave a tiny, stiff nod.
Remus continued, "But your situation is not the same.” He smiled grimly. "For one thing, you are only wanted by one side - only the Death Eaters want to kill you. So you are not completely restricted to Hogwarts, and even if you were, it is, after all, a larger and more comfortable prison than some."
Like Azkaban, or Grimmauld Place, hung unsaid in the air between them.
Remus continued, ticking off points on his fingers. "You still have your teaching duties, your potions, and your knowledge of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. No one else on our side understands them as well as you do. And for the first time, you can say anything you choose to your Slytherins. To all your students. You, better than anyone, can understand the pressures brought to bear on them to join Voldemort."
Severus nodded in acknowledgement, lips tight with the knowledge that "pressure" was not the only motivation he could understand. It had clearly not occurred to Remus that some of the students might want to join the Dark Lord, but Severus understood the lure of power, the attraction of the Dark Lord's promises, in a way Remus would never be able to fathom.
Remus ticked off another point. "You are a visible symbol of resistance now, Severus. People like Derrick will know where to get help, if they can't bring themselves to approach Albus."
Listening to Remus lay out possibilities, for the first time since the mark on his arm had begun to blacken more than two years ago and he and Albus had begun to plan, Severus felt a future take shape in which he was something other than a spy or a corpse. He began running over names of students he should speak to, discreetly - ex-students, too. How best to approach them. Arguments. Examples. Choices, and consequences...
Realizing suddenly that Remus was no longer speaking, Severus looked up. Remus's head was tipped back; his eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even. Severus watched a moment, then stood, intending to wake him. His fingers closed on Remus’s shoulder, and Severus felt the comforting heat of Remus’s body even through his robes. His throat tightened as he remembered breathing blood and desperately wanting something very similar to this - to be sitting quietly in his rooms, across from Remus. He had almost lost the chance, more than once.
Severus sank back down in his chair, still watching Remus's face, quiet and calm in sleep. He still didn't know why Remus had come to him tonight, but it was oddly warming to think that he might have desired nothing more than he had taken and given - quiet companionship.
Severus watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Remus's chest, feeling strangely content. He would rouse Lupin in a few minutes...
The house-elf who woke them in the morning threw away the untouched glass of firewhiskey when she cleaned Severus's rooms.